I Hate to Stand Alone

by Casey Winter

  I do as he says, opening my eyes wide and pouting my lips in the way he likes. Luke grabs his wallet from his pocket, flips it open one-handed, and then takes out a condom with his teeth. He quickly pulls his trousers down, freeing his huge, hard length.

  “You’re driving me crazy,” he whispers. “Jesus Christ. Suck your fingers. But keep playing with your tits, too.”

  I love how captivated he looks, how he can’t look away. Anything could happen outside this room right now and he wouldn’t be able to turn away from me. His jade eyes sear into me hungrily. Every hellish inch of him is aimed at me, pre-come clinging to him, glistening.

  He growls as he slides the condom down to his balls.

  He collapses atop me, guiding himself to my wanting hole.

  As he drives into me, our lips find each other again, kissing frantically as he slides into my eager pussy. His tongue got me ready for him. Luke is so big, there’s usually at least a few moments where I have to adjust.

  But now, he slides right up to his pommel, filling me completely.

  I dig my fingernails into his shoulders so hard I snap one. I don’t care. I can’t even feel it through the haze of ecstasy. Luke arches his back, going somehow deeper, and then we fall into a feral union of lust that drives both of us closer and closer to the edge.

  “Oh, hell,” he whispers, staring down at my breasts. “You’re so sexy. You’re so damn perfect.”

  “You like this, Luke?” I moan, pinching my nipples, pulling on my breasts.

  His expression changes. He bites down. I can tell he’s close. I can tell he’s trying to hold back. I let go of my breasts and grasp his face in my hands, crying out, “Come for me, baby. Come for me, Luke. Oh, baby, come for me.”

  “H-H-Hannah,” he roars.

  “I’m coming, baby,” I yell.

  Our shared climax takes hold of us. We kiss aggressively.

  We can’t get enough of each other.

  I angle my hips, taking every inch of him, still coming as he begins to wilt inside of me, my orgasm only ending when he’s gone soft, sliding out of me slowly.

  I place my hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat pound like a thousand drums. I feel emotional from the sex, from the wine, from the closeness. “Your heart, Luke.”

  He grins banteringly. “My heart, twinkle toes? What about it?”

  I laugh, feeling a little foolish. “It’s beating like crazy. I thought SEALs were supposed to be fit, huh?”

  He kisses me on the cheek. “Oh, I am. But my heart isn’t beating because of the exertion. It’s beating for you. It’s beating for us.”

  “You’re so cheesy these days.” I giggle.

  “Just for you,” he growls, kissing me again. “Only for you, Hannah. You make me this way. And you know what?”

  “What?” I sass.

  “I’m not even ashamed anymore.”

  “Good,” I say meaningfully. “I don’t want you to be. Now kiss me, Luke. I don’t want to sleep tonight.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Luke

  “I’ve never heard you like this before, man,” Morgan says.

  I’m talking to him on the Bluetooth headset as I open up Family Roller, disabling the new alarm I had installed and doing a quick patrol of the place, and only then getting on with the regular day-to-day stuff. Hannah teases me about this headset, saying it makes me look like a wannabe secret agent.

  It might be strange, but goddamn I like it when she teases me. It’s been half a week since the dinner at Penny’s place. And, unbelievably, things are still going well. But I’m not about to tell Morgan that. I’m sure he’d just bust my balls.

  “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie, with a private smile.

  Morgan makes a noise that, for him, is the same as a chuckle. “Sure, min bror. Whatever you say. But you sound smitten.”

  “Smitten? Are you joking, Morgan? Me, smitten?”

  “Yes,” he says. “I’m deadly serious. Don’t play games with me, brother. You care about this girl.”

  “I’m shocked you’re even interested, truth be told.”

  “I’m just surprised,” Morgan says. “It’s like finding a new species of rhino or something. I thought I knew you, but this Luke, sounding like he just walked off the set of a Hollywood romantic comedy, hell, he sounds like a new man. Next you’ll be cooking her dinner and even doing the dishes.”

  “I have cooked her dinner,” I say. “Twice, actually. But she did the dishes.”

  “And let me guess. When she cooks, you do the dishes?”

  I grin as I restock the bar. “You’re getting to be a real pain in my ass, man. Did you call just to bust my balls?”

  “Pretty much,” he says. “I told Oliver I’d call to try and persuade you to come back. He’s been on my case about it. I told him you wouldn’t and nothing I said would change that.”

  “He should be careful,” I laugh. “If he keeps ordering you around, maybe you’ll leave, too.”

  I hear Morgan wince. “Yeah, he’s been trying to sign me onto a two-year contract. I think you’ve made him nervous. I told him if he kept asking I’d finally write this damn book I’ve been thinking about. That’d soon shut him up.”

  “I was just talking about that last Friday,” I tell him. “Morgan Gunnarsson, soldier turned Shakespeare.”

  “I could say the same for you, Luke,” he says. I can tell he’s smiling. Or doing his version, anyway. “Luke Nelson, soldier turned … roller rink owner? And lover? Maybe lover most of all, ja?”

  I pause as I slide another beer into the fridge. And then I keep going, with a sigh. “Maybe,” I mutter.

  “Woah, min bror … I didn’t expect you to admit it.”

  “It’s complicated,” I growl. “Nothing’s changed there. But Hannah, man, she’s … we went to the movies the other day. Just sat there holding hands. Like a couple. That sort of stuff usually scares the hell out of me, because then the woman will start thinking we are a couple, and I’ll have to set her straight. But with Hannah, I don’t want to set her straight. She’s different.”

  “Then I don’t see what’s complicated about it.”

  I snort, standing up and wiping my condensation-damp hands on my pants. “You wouldn’t be saying that if you were in my position.”

  “Fair point,” he says. “What about this fire? Any more leads?”

  “The Hanlons have got an alibi,” I grunt, striding toward the front desk to unlock the skate cupboard. “They’re on security footage at the hardware store, working all night. But I’m certain they hired someone. Jock showing up like that, it’s not a coincidence.”

  “Didn’t he say he heard it from a deputy?”

  I get the key, unlock the door. “Yeah, so?”

  “And he came to gloat?”

  “That’s his story.”

  “It’s not impossible, Luke,” Morgan says. “You might have to ask yourself if anybody else has a motive to do this to Family Roller.”

  “But nobody does,” I say. “The only people who’ve got a problem with me in this town are the Hanlons, Teresa Ortiz, and my old man. Teresa is a kind woman, a law-abiding woman. My old man would die before disgracing Mom’s memory by vandalizing Family Roller. So that just leaves the Hanlons.”

  “I know you’ll do what’s best,” Morgan says. “But just try not to get too fixated on them. Let the police do their job.”

  I grunt out a laugh. “You and Hannah are as bad as each other, talking like I’m some wild animal. I know how to control myself, Morgan. I got pissed when Jock showed up here, sure, but since then, I’ve kept my distance from the little prick. I plan on keeping it that way.”

  “Good,” Morgan says. “Anyway, I suppose I’m telling Oliver that you refused my very persuasive case to return to Sun-Disk?”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  “For now or forever?”

  “I don’t know,” I mutter, the question throwing up too many additional questions. “For t
he foreseeable future, at least.”

  “I thought that you were going to set up the business, get a decent manager, and then return to work.”

  “Yeah,” I say, walking up and down the rows and rows of hire skates with the anti-bacterial spray, wiping some of them down, adjusting laces, just like Mom used to do once upon a time. “I thought that, too. But plans change. Not that it was ever a concrete plan, but …” I trail off.

  “The girl,” Morgan notes.

  “Hannah, yeah, maybe,” I sigh.

  “Okay. Take care, brother.”

  “And you. Talk soon.”

  I hang up and go to the main desk when I hear somebody out there. It’s Alexis, putting her dyed pink hair up in a bun as she walks around the desk. “Morning, boss,” she says.

  “Morning,” I reply. “Ready for a busy day?”

  “Wednesday night at Family Roller, hell yeah,” she beams. “Those fliers I handed out seem to be working. I know for a fact at least five families are coming down tonight just for the promotion.”

  “Fliers?” I say, confused. “Promotion?”

  She narrows her eyes at me. “You know, the ones me and Hannah made? A free soft drink and plate of fries for every kid under ten?”

  “She didn’t tell me,” I mutter, smiling, thinking of Hannah skating through town with her onyx ponytail whipping behind her, fliers stuffed into her hoodie’s kangaroo pocket. “But that’s great, Alexis. Really great.”

  She lets out a breath. “Good, I thought I’d overstepped the mark there.”

  “Hannah would make a good manager for this place, wouldn’t she?” I muse as Alexis sets up the desk. She might be only eighteen, but she’s a very conscientious and reliable employee. “Everyone loves her. She wouldn’t just be a manager. She’d be the face of Family Roller.”

  “She would,” Alexis says cautiously. “But what would you do, boss? And would Hannah even take the position? She has her own career, don’t forget.”

  “I know,” I say, reflecting on how Hannah has confided in me about finding the nomad lifestyle tiring, about how much she has come to love Little Fall since she’s returned. “I’m just thinking aloud, I guess.”

  “Well, I’d love it if Hannah never left. I’m going to college in the fall, but having her around until then?” She smiles warmly. “Yeah, that’d be sweet. And plus I’ll be back for the summers. Hannah’s the bomb. She’s so funny, friendly, kind. I mean ... She’s really awesome.”

  “Yeah,” I agree, with more feeling than I anticipate. “She is.”

  A moment later, she mutters, “Mr. Nelson, can I ask you something?”

  I nod. “Sure.”

  “I’ve got this friend. She’s sort of gone viral with her rapping career, like Soundcloud-style stuff.”

  “You just made me feel very old, Alexis, because I’ve got no idea what that means.”

  “Like Lil Pump, sort of.”

  I think. “The one with the rainbow hair? He was in the news for racketeering, or something?”

  “No, that was Six Nine.”

  I shake my head. “Then I have no clue who that is or what a Soundcloud rapper is, I’m sorry to say. I might only be thirty one, but you just made me feel about three hundred.”

  She giggles. “Well, it doesn’t really matter. The point is I’m looking to record a music video for her. I really want to do it here, at the rink. I think it’d be awesome with the neon and everything. And I want Hannah to be in the video, with her light-up wheels, doing some of her cool slalom stuff. She’s getting here Wednesday the twenty eighth, so I was wondering if we could record it on the Thursday?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “I don’t see why not. As long as Hannah’s game.”

  “Yes,” she cries, jumping up and down, giddy. “Thanks, Mr. Nelson. That’s great. It’s going to look sweet, I just know it.”

  —

  I spend the rest of the day in the office, working on Nelson’s Nails stuff. After a few weeks, I’ve finally managed to get everything into some kind of order. Lately I mostly communicate with Andy, Dad’s main supervisor, since these days it seems like my old man isn’t taking that much of an interest in his own business.

  Around six in the evening, lots of people begin to arrive to the rink, most of them clutching the fliers that Alexis and Hannah made. I stand at the window—just one of the things that has been repaired and renovated this past week, due to fire damage—and look down to see Hannah leading a group of children through her slalom cones.

  She looks up, giving me an okay sign and questioning shrug. I smile, and give her the okay sign back.

  I go to my desk and open the top drawer, looking down at the gift I ordered online for her a few days ago. I felt like a bit of a prick as I wrapped it, wondering what it said about me that it’d be the first gift I’ve given a girl since high school. I pick it up. Is this a good gift, or a reminder, a responsibility? It’s not the same as getting her a pet or something like that. But it’s still more interactive than a piece of jewelry.

  I’m saved from having to go down there when Hannah walks into the office, taller in her skates, breathless from the rink. “Why are you hiding up here, bad boy … wait, what’s that?”

  I gawp like a damn fool. “A gift,” I say. “For you.”

  “Okay,” she says. “Why so nervous? Hang on a sec—is this gift really for another woman? And now you’re gonna have some crazy awkward situation where you give me another woman’s gift? Like a sort of sitcom situation or something?”

  “No,” I say, serious even though she’s just teasing. I don’t want to think about another woman, even as a joke. “I guess I’m nervous about giving it to you, that’s all. I guess I’m not very good with this sort of stuff. But here, twinkle toes. I think you should have it.”

  I hand it to her and she unwraps it. I can’t explain the nerves that move through me as I wait for her response. But then she grins brightly when she sees that it’s a full sketching set. “Wow, Luke, thanks,” she gleams, putting it down and throwing her arms around me.

  I hold her, kiss her. “So you like it?”

  “I love it,” she says. “I know this set, too. It’s not cheap.”

  “You deserve it,” I tell her.

  “You know my birthday’s in October, right?”

  “I didn’t,” I admit. “But I do now.”

  “Luke,” she giggles. “I told you this.”

  “When?” I ask. “Because if it was just after we got done having sex, I didn’t hear a damn word. In fact, going forward, you ought to never tell me anything important right after sex.”

  “Ha-ha,” she says sarcastically. “I’ll let you off this time … but there will be a pop quiz. Very soon. But seriously, Luke, thank you. Are you gonna come down?”

  “In a little while,” I tell her. “But, honestly, I like watching you from up here. You’re the life and soul of this place.”

  She grins, a little embarrassed, but clearly loving the praise.

  “I’m gonna go and show Angelica and Joe-Joe how to balance on one leg.” She glares joyfully, a beautiful combination. “Try to, anyway. You know what Angelica said to me? She said, ‘Hannah, it’s not fair, you stand there like a flamingo but I’ll never be pretty and pink.’ Isn’t that just the cutest thing you ever heard?”

  I swallow, suddenly terrified at the thought that strikes me. Strikes me with the force of a fist with brass knuckles. “Yeah,” I say, trying to keep my expression steady. “That’s damn cute.”

  When she’s gone, I drop into my chair, unbuttoning the top buttons on my shirt so I can get some air. Things are spinning out of control worse than a gunfight now. The thought I had—the thought that’s making it hard for me to catch my breath—was …

  She would make an amazing mother.

  —

  Once Family Roller’s closed up, I head home to shower and get changed before going out with Hannah. We’ve planned on just driving around town together so that she can use her new s
ketching kit, but part of me thinks it’s just an excuse to be together. Not that I’m complaining. I purposefully don’t let myself return to the thought that had me white-knuckling my desk. It’s too huge. It’s too difficult to wrap my head around, thinking of Hannah in that way, not just romantic, but committed.

  Dad is sitting on couch when I get home, the laptop open on his lap. He slams it shut as soon as I walk in and I’m left with the horrifying idea that I might’ve just caught my old man in the act. I hold my hands up, grinning. “I’m not judging, Dad,” I tell him. “You just picked a strange place for it, that’s all.”

  “It wasn’t that,” he grumbles, picking at his scar like he always does when he’s nervous. Or excited. Or angry. Or anything, come to think of it. When he frowns, his cheeks look even gaunter. “What’s wrong with you, Luke? I don’t … I don’t watch that stuff.”

  “Why the secrecy, then?” I ask.

  “A man’s business is a man’s business,” he grunts. “Don’t see why you have to go prying. I don’t pry into yours, do I?”

  I shrug. “Okay, whatever you want.”

  But when I turn back to the door, he says, “It’s a ranch I’ve been looking at for a while. Evelyn—your mother and I—we used to talk about getting a ranch when we were older. I was gonna teach her how to run it. My days on the ranch as a kid and a teenager, I think they were some of the best of my life. I wanted to share that with her.”

  I turn back to him, but don’t look right at him. Dad is withdrawn when it comes to speaking about himself. He can go months at a time basically functioning as a ghost, giving no indication of what’s going on inside of him.

  Remind you of anyone? That’s Hannah’s voice, all sassy even in my head.

  “That’d be good, Dad,” I tell him. “She would’ve liked that. Would you sell the business?”

  “I’d have to,” he says, musing.

  “Is that why you’ve been so uninvolved in the hardware store lately? You’ve got one foot out the door?”

  He sighs. “Yeah, pretty much. But I’m not even sure the sale would cover it, anyway.”