Kingsley

by Jenny Wood

  “I’m glad that you had her.” I tell him, wanting to say so much more but daring not to. This man has been through so much in his short, twenty-five years and she was a bright spot in all the dark.

  “Me too.” He smiled and fuck me, I didn’t want to just be friends with him anymore.

  Chapter 10: Morgan

  After I’d shown Kingsley my paintings and told him stories of some of them, we came back to the living room to the couch. He’d gone quiet after I told him the story of Mrs. Mabel and I’d worried that I put a downer on the fun mood we’d both been in but he seemed to shake himself out of it eventually. I’d had a record player in the room where we sat and he was looking through the music, playing different genre’s he’d come across.

  “You like The Beatles, I take it.” He smiled.

  “Who doesn’t like The Beatles?” I asked. We wouldn’t get along if he didn’t; the Beatles we’re a personal favorite. He smiled and shook his head, scouring the titles of each record. Nobody appreciated records anymore, I was glad that he did. His phone rang around ten o’clock and he excused himself to answer it, though he stayed in the room.

  “You’re up late, Half-Pint.” He smiled into his phone. He waited just a beat before he rolled his eyes and answered. “Yes, I fed Oreo before I left tonight and Jody is watching her while I’m out.”

  I figured it was his little sister; his voice and demeanor changed drastically when talking to her. She had every bit of his attention and he hammed up his already silly personality to make her laugh. He was a great big brother, that much I already knew. I tried not to eavesdrop but he didn’t seem to mind.

  “I’m over at Morgan’s house; remember him? We ran into him at the store the other day.” He reminded her and she must’ve remembered.

  “Kady says, “Hello Morgan, corndogs with grapes and cottage cheese are not a bad combination.”. He told me, from her.

  “Hi Kady, I’ll try those, next time I get a hankerin’ for corndogs.” I smiled and listened to him relay the message.

  “I dunno, Kady-bug. Ya’ll talk weird here, I don’t know what “hankerin’” means, you’ll have to ask your mama.” He says, earning a laugh from me as I threw a couch pillow at his squatting form at the record stack. It knocked his big body over onto his backside, making me laugh harder. I listened to him talk to her for a few minutes before I assume she had to get ready for bed. He told her he loved her and that he’d talk to her tomorrow night and then promised to be with Jody so she could talk to him as well. He agreed and they ended their call.

  “Sorry about that, she usually calls a bit earlier, but her mom let her stay up late tonight since it’s a weekend.” He shrugs.

  “You’re a good big brother.” I tell him, honestly.

  “I try to be.” He smiles, walking to the couch and sitting next to me, closer than he had been earlier.

  “I’m glad we’re friends.” He suddenly says, looking intently at my face.

  “Me too.” I tell him; disappointment in my gut. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad we’re friends, grateful even, but I won’t lie and say there wasn’t a small part of me wished for something more. I know it wouldn’t be fair to him, me being sick and all, but being with him tonight almost made me forget that I was. He’d made me laugh and have fun and for just a little bit, I didn’t feel alone.

  “Can I ask you something personal?” He asked, looking unsure. I nodded and waited for him to work out how he wanted to say it; or maybe he just didn’t want to ask.

  “You mentioned the other day that you had to have surgery,” He points out. Had I told him about that? I didn’t remember.

  “Yes.” I confirm, wondering where he’s going with it.

  “Will you tell me what’s going to happen?” He asks quietly. I swallow the lump in my throat, I don’t like thinking about it, much less talking about it.

  “Well….” I think where to start, “I mean, I guess…. OK well, the tumor is in a complicated part of my brain. It’s right up here.” I point to the front, right side of my head, in the general area of where my tumor is. “See, to root around in there, would be too dangerous. There are a lot of things in there that could mess me up if they go too far or do something wrong. So, they’re going to take as much of it as they can and then I’ll do chemo for a little bit to get rid of the rest and hopefully… I’ll be good as new when I’m done.” I try for a hopeful smile but I don’t think I manage it.

  “So…. too dangerous, huh?” He says thoughtfully.

  “Yeah, I mean, they’re cutting into my brain.” I say and he flinches.

  “Sorry.” He whispers. I feel bad immediately; I just hate talking about it, I didn’t mean to be so blunt. His much bigger hand envelops my much smaller one and I feel it’s warmth spread throughout my fingers. “Are you scared?” He asks. The lump in my throat has grown in size, because it’s almost impossible to swallow around. I don’t want to lie to him.

  “I am.” I whisper hoarsely. He closes his eyes and squeezes my hand gently.

  “Do you know when the surgery will be?” He asks. Of course, I do. I have the dreaded day marked on my calendar and like a ticking countdown, it’s embedded into my brain.

  “The 27th.” I say, voice wavering. His head jerks in surprise.

  “That’s two weeks.” His voice is tortured. I don’t want him to sound like that. I don’t want my illness to affect him like that; we’d been having such a good time tonight.

  “Yes.” I say, anyway.

  “Will you let me be there?” He asks and my eyes fly open to look at him. I wasn’t even conscious of closing them but that wasn’t at all what I expected him to say. His hand that held mine, squeezed again as his eyes bore into mine.

  “It won’t be much fun.” I say, why? I don’t know. Why was I trying to talk him out of it?

  “I bet it it’ll be less fun for you.” He comments. “Do you have anyone going with you?” He asks. I don’t. I shake my head “no” and he takes a deep breath.

  “As a friend, I want to be there for you; you shouldn’t have to go through that alone.” He says. My eyes well with tears and I feel silly. I can only nod.

  “I’ve been alone for a really long time.” I say softly, losing hold of the tears, again. He was going to think I was so weak. I couldn’t help it though, the thought of having someone there with me, someone to care whether or not I made it out a vegetable or made it out at all, was making me emotional. I closed my eyes and tried to stop the onslaught of emotions. I feel Kingsley’s hands cup the sides of my face; warming me from the outside, in. He runs his fingers under the wetness of my eyes, wiping the proof of my gratefulness, fear, relief and appreciation away. He puts pressure on the back of my head, pulling me closer to his body, tucking me under his chin so he can hold me. The rest of my body folds into him and I wrap myself around him, longing for the comfort his big, body is allowing.

  He’s holding me so tight. I’ve never felt so held together; that’s what it feels like, that he’s holding me together. It’s comfort and safety; the smell on his clothes is the same smell that I had wrapped around me in the blanket I used when I was sick. I’d missed it since it wore off. I don’t even care anymore that it might me creepy or insane; I felt like I’d needed this for so long and I was finally getting it. I would hate to ever let it go. Friends…. I thought to myself. I needed to chant that and not forget it. It would be hard; next to impossible because right at this moment, curled into Kingsley’s side, head on his chest, I’d never felt less alone in my life. I finally felt… safe.

  Kingsley kept his arms around me as I got myself together. Once my breathing evened out and I could breathe without the hitches in my throat, he started rubbing my back. His big hands were warming me, giving me comfort but also turning me on like nobody’s business. His right hand made its way to the back of my neck and massaged the tension that’s been building there for so long.

  “You okay?” He whispered. I could feel his breath, brush my skin. Again,
this was torture; how could I handle him touching me like this when I wanted it so bad, I would gladly beg for it. “Hey.” He whispered when I didn’t answer. I leaned my head back and looked at his gorgeous, brown eyes. He slowly blinked twice before some kind of emotion rolled over his features. His brows were set in a furrow and he looked pained; still, I wasn’t expecting him to lean into me and press his lips to mine.

  They were soft as velvet, yet firm and warm. He held them there for several seconds before I closed my eyes and melted into him. That seemed to be all the encouragement he needed because his other hand, still at my back came up and cradled the other side of my head; he used his thumb under my chin to tilt my head so he could slide his tongue over my closed lips. I opened immediately, tasting the flavor that was all, Kingsley. I couldn’t stop the moan that left my throat, halting him only a breath away from my still open mouth. Our mingled breath was loud in the quiet of my living room. I opened my eyes to see him looking back at me; unsure and questioning.

  “Is this okay?” He asks. I’m nodding before he finishes the question. His smirk is all-knowing and I can’t find it in me to care. I don’t care if I look desperate or easy; I want him to kiss me again.

  “This isn’t the same, you know.” He said, cryptically. I have no clue what he’s talking about and I decide that I’d ask questions later. I feel alive, right now; amazing, I don’t want him to stop.

  “I need you to know that this isn’t the same.” He says, again. I stop and think what he can mean but he must read my confusion on my face. My mind is still clouded by his wet lips though and I don’t really care what he means. I just want to feel him again.

  “Just listen for just a second okay? Then we’ll carry on.” He’s smiling, laughing at me, no doubt. Again, I don’t care. I nod and wait for him to elaborate. “I hesitate to bring him here, since we’re doing good with what we’re doing right now but I need to know that you get me, okay?” He tries again and I’m even more confused than before. Bring who here? “Baby, focus.” He whispers, lightly kissing my bottom lip. “I know that the way we met and what we’re doing right now, probably makes me look like a little bit of a…. well, somebody who gets around.” He says. My body stiffens as I realize what he’s saying. I hadn’t even thought of that. “No, no” He says as he feels it, pulling me back into him.

  “I’m trying to tell you that what that was and what this is, is not the same thing.” He looks directly into my eyes, looking deadly serious. “I did go home with a stranger and we did mess around a little bit, I’m sorry to give you that mental image.” He says, looking remorseful. “Still, I’d never done that before or since and I can’t say it ended badly because it got me to where I am, right now.” He squeezed me, gently for emphasis. “Now, I know we’re friends and if that’s what you want, I’ll be the best fucking friend you could ever have and that’s what we’ll stay; but I’m telling you right now, I want more than that and I want it with you.” He says and my body is back to stiff.

  “What has you tensed up, baby?” He says softly and I close my eyes at the endearment. I want it, want it like I’ve never wanted anything else in my life, ever. Mabel used to call me “darlin’” or “darlin’ child” and I always loved it. It showed affection, something I’d never had before. Stephen called me honey but it always sounded… I don’t know, empty. No one had ever called me “baby”, it made me feel precious, as silly as that sounded. He was gentle with me; this strong, hulk of a man, he was gentle and easy. Man, how I wanted what he was offering.

  “I’m sick.” I reminded him. I had finally found someone who wanted me; someone who made me feel wanted and I had two weeks to enjoy it before surgery; maybe longer if I was lucky and came out of it okay. Still, it wouldn’t be an easy road and I’d learned firsthand how the stress of an illness can cause strife. I was currently sitting with the proof of it.

  “You’re going to get better.” He said confidently and I prayed, I prayed right then that, that was so.

  “I might not.” I had to warn him. “I might not get better, Kingsley and I might even get worse.” I say, thinking of all that could go wrong during surgery or after.

  “I don’t accept that.” He said firmly. It surprised a laugh from me, it was so final. He didn’t accept it and that was that. If only it was that easy. I closed my eyes and dropped my forehead to his chin and prayed.

  I woke up sometime later, warm and snug against the back of the couch. It was dark in the living room and I could hear the record player still turning, though no music was playing. Kingsley and I had at some point, leaned back and got comfortable on the couch, him probably, not so much. His legs were dangling almost halfway off the end of the couch; he was way too tall to be snuggled up here like he was. My feet came to about his knees, that’s how much taller this man was than me.

  “Kingsley.” I whispered, head still on his chest. I gave him a little shake with my hand that rested there, although it didn’t budge him an inch. “Kingsley.” I tried again, causing him to stir. “Let’s go get in my bed, it’ll be more comfortable.” I offered. His eyes sprang open and he lifted his head to look around.

  “What?” He groaned. I’m not sure how long we laid here, but I knew he’d be feeling it in the morning if we didn’t move somewhere, where he could stretch out.

  “We fell asleep on the couch, let’s go get in bed, you’ll be more comfortable.” I said. He nodded sleepily and stiffly tried to stand. Once he was up, he twisted and turned this way and that to pop his back and then rolled his neck to work out the kinks there. He took a deep breath and finished his stretch before holding out his hand to me. I grabbed it without hesitation and let him lead me to my bedroom.

  Thankful that I’d cleaned in there today, he’d never even noticed; he stopped beside the bed and pulled me to him. Before I knew what he was doing, he grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it up over my head. He unbuttoned my pants and shoved them down, telling me to step out when I’d stood frozen, wondering why the hell he was undressing me and being embarrassed that he was seeing my body on display. Mine looked nothing like his big, powerful body. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to be eyeing me, he was just undressing me, like he would a child. When I’d stepped out of my pants, he unbuttoned his and kicked them off before pulling his shirt off over his head as well. My mouth went dry, taking in his body; he was cut, he had muscles on top of muscles; he was the picture of health and virility. He had tattoo’s, both dark and bright all over his body, even that sexy as fuck “V” line that really hot guys had that made people stupid—me included. Though I couldn’t make out what it was, he had a small tattoo on his hip by that line that made my teeth want to sink into that flesh. He didn’t give me time to ogle, he flipped the blankets back and crawled in, closing his eyes before his head hit the pillow. I stood there, just watching him. He extended his massive, muscled arm to reach for me.

  “Come on, let’s sleep.” He murmured, softly. I crawled in after him and he pulled me into him, once again. He seemed to put me where he wanted me and he was big enough-or I was small enough- for him to just do it, whenever he wanted. That made me smile, I liked that. I lay my head on his arm as he pulls me deeper into his body and I can only enjoy it for a couple of minutes before we’re both, back to sleep.

  Chapter 11: Kingsley

  Waking up with Morgan tucked into my body was better than I imagined it would be. He was thin, much too thin, if I was honest and I worried about that, but every part of his body was beautiful. He was smooth and hairless, probably in large part by the treatments, but he looked like he’d not have much if any, anyway. He had to have been a foot shorter than me and at least 100lbs, smaller. I’d look like a bear next to him, for sure; still, he was everything that I’d wanted.

  I tried my hardest not to wake him, getting out of bed, but I needed to use the restroom and check the time. He didn’t have a clock in here or at least one that I could see. It was daylight, but I couldn’t guess a time. I needed to be at work at te
n, I had three appointments today and I couldn’t be late; the first one was traveling a couple hundred miles to be there.

  I used the restroom and tidied up the best I could with no toothbrush or deodorant and went to the kitchen to start coffee. It was a few minutes after eight, so, I had time. I rummaged through his refrigerator and started making egg-white omelets, slices of grapefruit, grapes and orange juice. I ate while I cooked, used to eating and running so I could get a workout in at the gym before hitting the shop. Unfortunately, I wasn’t going to be able to do that again today. I didn’t yesterday morning either, due to staying at the hospital so late and coming home to crash. I’d go in tonight for a couple hours before I went home though, so, I didn’t mind it. Plus, spending the extra time with Morgan would be well worth a skipped work-out.

  Looking through his cabinets and pantries I finally found a serving tray with foldable legs. I made Morgan a plate, a glass of orange juice and a bottle of water and walked it down the hall to his room. I also reached up on top of the fridge and grabbed his medicine kit on the way out. He was turned into the pillow I was using, wrapping his body around like he did, me. The sight made me smile. I sat the tray down on his nightstand and sat next to him; his back to me. I ran my fingers over his naked back and watched the chill bumps break out across his body. He shivered before blinking his eyes open and turned and noticed me behind him. I saw the blush, brighten his face as he looked down at his half-naked body. We’d both kept our boxers-brief’s on last night, but I could tell he was uncomfortable in just them, now. He pulled the blanket up to his chest and sat up to face me.