When I Was Yours, When You Were Mine

by Evie Sinclair

  “You’re not drinking?” he asks. I shake my head. “Neither,” he says.

  “On a cleanse?” I joke.

  “I do stupid things when I’m heartbroken and drunk,” he chuckles.

  “Me too!” I say, a burst of energy. “Extremely silly things!” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Are they here tonight?” I ask.

  “They were.”

  “Shit. I get it. It’s hard.” I can’t find comforting words for him.

  We stand next to each other, watching the city. Two heartbroken strangers lost in a sea of people.

  “Do you want to make out?” I ask on a whim. “Just kissing? Distract us from the mess.” Maybe kissing someone else will help separate me from Kingston.

  He barely flinches, shrugs, nods. I step into his space, his hands find my waist. I close my eyes, he finds my lips and we let our mouths do the talking.

  It’s nice. It doesn’t reach my heart, or my genitals, and I’m okay with that.

  I pull away, catching my breath. “How’s your heart?” I ask.

  “Still sore.”

  I laugh, and give him a knowing nod. I lean back in and kiss him, my tongue meshing with his.

  “Ummm, Mae?” I hear Sammy’s little voice pipe up.

  I glance at her to see she’s not alone - Kingston and Logan have joined. Logan looks unimpressed, but he’s working on his control issues so he excuses himself to the bar. Kingston doesn’t take his eyes off me, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

  Sammy mouths I’m sorry, a worried look on her face.

  I try to see the situation from an outsider's point of view - this stranger's leg in between mine, pushing my skirt up, his hands on my face as me make out.

  “Is this him?” The guy whispers in my ear.

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh.” He pulls his body from mine, I straighten out my skirt. “Thanks for that. Sorry about …” He glances at Kingston who hasn’t averted his eyes this whole time.

  I force a tiny smile and he offers me a small wave as he leaves.

  “That was weird,” Sammy awkwardly giggles, trying to cut the tension.

  “He’s going through a breakup,” I say quickly. “I offered to distract him.”

  “He looked distracted,” Kingston says, his body stiff, his eyes cold.

  “You looked pretty distracted last time I saw you,” I straighten, knowing I don’t have to apologize.

  “I’m going to take Logan downstairs,” Sammy says, leaving fast.

  “You said we can kiss who we want.” I look past him to make sure Logan is out of ear shot.

  “You also said I was single and made it glaringly obvious that you’re not going to do anything to change it …”

  “You know we can’t,” he says through gritted teeth.

  “Then don’t make me feel bad for kissing someone else! This is ridiculous!”

  “Don’t make a scene, Mae.” Kingston looks behind him.

  “We don’t want to ruin your perfect public persona,” I spit.

  “Wow. Nice.”

  “You know what … I don’t need this. I didn’t ask for you to come back into my life!”

  “Yeah. Well, neither did I. I was perfectly happy without you walking around with your - your - ” He motions to me. “Your body, and your hair and the way you smell …” He rubs his face with his palms and steps into my space. “I wish I didn’t know how you taste.” And the sincerity in his tone makes the corny line hit me deep.

  I look up at him, transfixed. “I wish I didn’t know what it sounds like to hear you cum with my name on your lips.”

  “Or the way you look when I’m fucking you with my fingers …” he continues.

  I breathe in sharply. “Or your tongue on my clit …”

  “Or your ass grinding into me in the morning.”

  “Or your hand holding mine.” Something breaks in me, my voice waivers, the strength gone.

  “Or that I want you so fucking bad.”

  He makes truth smell like beer and aftershave. Whenever I’m hearing the cold hard truth, I’ll forever connect the smell of him with it.

  “You want me?” I whisper.

  “You know I do.”

  “Because you saw me kissing someone else?”

  He growls. “Don’t remind me …”

  “I told him I was heartbroken and we offered to distract one another.” I stare at him, my hands on his biceps. “You want me?” I ask again.

  He doesn’t look around to see if we’ve gained eyes. At a place like this, where famous people mingle every night, most people don’t care.

  “Do you want me?” he asks, his cold eyes giving way to vulnerability.

  I nod.

  “Good.” And he captures my mouth with his, holds my face in his hands.

  “Please never kiss another man like that unless it’s me.” He breathes against my lips.

  I choke out a laugh. “Shut up.”

  And I kiss him hard, with meaning and missing, and a fervent need to be entangled with him.

  CHAPTER fifteen

  “Pink or navy, Loges?” I yell out the door as he power walks past.

  Within seconds his head pokes in. He assesses the dresses I’m holding.

  “Which one shows less skin?” he asks. I raise an eyebrow. “Pink,” he decides and leaves.

  More skin it is.

  I fix my makeup in the mirror. Distracted by thoughts of Kingston’s hands on me. Wondering what he’s going to be wearing today for Lily and Tara’s wedding.

  “Mae!” Sammy yells.

  “In my room!” I holler back.

  I hear her feet on the stairs and I’m already grinning at everything that makes up my best friend.

  She catwalks her way into my bedroom.

  “You look stunning,” I say. She’s in an emerald green maxi dress.

  I slip off my dressing gown and step into the dusty pink halter dress, loose fitting fabric that outlines my body as I move in it. My back is bare.

  “Soooo? Sammy probes, following me down stairs.

  I reach the front door. “I’m wearing nipple covers.”

  She tilts her head like a dog. “Yes. I just saw.” She checks her face in the mirror. “Soooo ...” she says again.

  “Soooo?” I feign ignorance.

  “Is there an outcome?”

  “We’re joining the church.”

  “Fabulous decision.” She winks at me.

  “We’re not sleeping together.” I check my face once more. “Until we decide what this wanting is, my legs are closed.”

  Sammy nods, completely on board with my decision, as we slip into the car with Logan.

  The ceremony is beautiful. Lush and rustic. Full of humor and romance.

  Lily and Tara look more in love than ever before.

  As I’m blowing bubbles across the aisle, and Lily and Tara walk down hand in hand as wife and wife, I catch eyes with Kingston standing with his family.

  He claps along with everyone, the smile on his face beaming with pride.

  He grins at me, a different smile, one I came to know in our intimate mornings on the road.

  We enter the reception in the middle of a field, under an enormous white sailcloth tent covered in fairy lights. White cloths drape along the roof of the tent, dramatically hanging at the edges to blow wistfully in the wind.

  Kingston sits at the long wedding party table, making it difficult for me to concentrate with him constantly in my field of vision.

  Sammy, Logan and I sit at the singles table, kept entertained by Logan’s antics.

  I’m roaming the large wooden circular bar, trying to decide if I want to hit up the bloody mary making section, or the array of charmingly decorated beer kegs, when I feel a hand stroke my lower back.

  “You are driving me crazy in this,” Kingston mumbles, idling up beside me. He pulls on the material that hangs on my lower back.

  I drink him in. “I’m also enjoying you in that suit.” I control my
urge to reach out and touch him. “This wedding is …” I look around.

  “It’s immense.” Kingston laughs.

  “They’re so happy, King. It’s perfect.” I let my gaze fall on Lily and Tara.

  “It’s inspiring, that's for sure.” He watches them.

  “Inspiring ... “ I murmur. “Aspiring?” I ask, feeling dumb the moment the word leaves my lips.

  His head tips, he licks his lips as he considers my one worded question. “You know I want to get married, Mae.”

  “Kingston, man, sound guy wants to talk to you.” A guy I’ve never seen before breaks us from an awkward situation that’s beginning. “Hey. Who are you? Why have I never met you before? I absolutely should have met you before. It should be illegal that I haven’t!” He trains his attention on me.

  Kingston grabs his arm. “She’s off limits.” He winks at me as he leads the nameless man away.

  My core tingles at his caveman type brute.

  I want to be off limits to everyone but him. I want him to be off limits to everyone but me.

  After dinner, speeches, and the cake cutting, Kingston steps out on stage ready for the first dance. His voice fills the tent as Lily and Tara slow dance, eyes fixed on one another.

  My eyes brim with tears at the joy emanating from them - they deserve this all encompassing love.

  People begin to join them.

  Logan and Sammy dance together, she’s laughing at him and I’m not surprised. He’s never been much of a dancer.

  As usual when Kingston is on stage, his eyes fall on me.

  “M’Lady, may I have this dance?” Someone steps into view. I look up to see Gerald James, Kingston’s Grandfather. His cheeks rosy, his smile bright.

  “I would love to.” I take his hand and follow him to the dance floor. Kingston has a grin on his face as he watches us.

  “He has a captivating voice,” Gerald states. I pull my eyes from Kingston to catch Gerald watching me. I nod. “He says the journey with you helped him move through his injury.”

  “He told you about the trip?” I ask.

  “He’s mentioned you at length.” Gerald nods at me, a glint in his eye.

  I blush and focus my attention to our feet. “He’s a good man,” I say. Emotion rises from my chest to my throat, trying to give my secret away.

  “I won’t tell a soul, if that’s what you two are wanting.” My mouth forms an ‘O’, ready to say something, anything.

  The look on Geralds face tells me my secret is out.

  “Did Kingston tell you?” I ask.

  “He didn’t have to. I’ve held that boy his whole life. I know his feelings before he knows himself. The moment he walked through the door, before mentioning your name, I knew something had changed.”

  I smile at Gerald. “We don’t know what this is, or what we are. I think we’re still trying to figure it out,” I admit. “I’ve always cared for him.”

  “Young love. Trying to keep yourselves from heartache,” Gerald tuts.

  “Love?” I stammer. I watch our feet as we dance.

  The song comes to an end, Kingston wishes Lily and Tara his best wishes and everyone applauds.

  “If that’s not the look of love ...” Gerald muses as Kingston approaches us with his mom, Fleur and Dad, Mitchell.

  My knees tremble, I shake my head, a laugh forming. Kingston silently passes me a champagne flute.

  “Oh, Gerry, what are you saying to the poor girl? She’s blushing.” Fleur breezes into the conversation, her smile warm and inviting.

  “He’s giving me a lesson on love,” I quip, my cheeks feel flushed.

  Gerald does a hop step backwards and excuses himself with a mischievous wink.

  “I’m terribly sorry, Mae,” Mitchell frowns in Gerald’s direction.

  “Oh, no, it was fine. He’s a wonderful man,” I say.

  “You remember my parents?” Kingston asks, changing the topic.

  “Yes, of course. Mr and Mrs James, it’s so lovely to see you.” My lip quivers, giving away my nervousness.

  “Oh, please, call us Fleur and Mitch. We insist.” Mitch takes a gulp of his beer.

  “Kingston has been telling us about your road trip. It sounds divine. You two must make it over to California to visit us.”

  I choke on champagne. Us. My cheeks are growing hotter and redder by the second.

  I mentioned, Mom, it was an unexpected trip. Mae helped me out.”

  “Well, yes, of course, but you still must come and visit us. Goodness me, fly if you must.” She winks at me and ruffles Kingston’s hair.

  I stifle a laugh. “Kingston has shown me photos of your house. It looks beautiful,” I say.

  “It’s been a labor of love.” Mitch and Fleur share an adoring glance.

  “You must paint us something for it, Mae!” Fleur pipes up. She extends her arm around me. Neither of them have lost the joy and love I remember as a kid.

  “Paint you something?” I blanch.

  “Kingston says you’re an artist!”

  “Oh. Well, I’m trying to be, yes,”

  “She’s an artist. She just needs to get her confidence back.” Kingston smiles across from me.

  Before I can burst into flames from the heat emanating off my cheeks, Fleur and Mitch are pulled away by Lily.

  “You’ve told your parents an awful lot about me,” I say, shocked.

  Kingston takes me in. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Because we’re a mess?” I can’t help but laugh. “I can’t kiss you in public. Wait. I’m not even sure I can kiss you in private. Did we discuss that properly? We sure as hell can’t …”

  Kingston leans forward, waiting for me to finish the sentence.

  I stare at him.

  “Mae. I have had you in positions that could make me cum just by thought. You’ve ridden my face multiple times. Don’t tell me you can’t say the word sex …”

  I clamp my hand over his mouth. He grins and runs his tongue along my fingers.

  “Kingston,” I hiss, pulling my hand away. I glance around the tent, everyone’s sufficiently drunk by now and there’s no sign of Sammy or Logan.

  “We are definitely allowed to kiss.” He tugs me by my arm, leading me out of the tent and into the darkness.

  Luckily the moon is big enough to light our way down to the lake. I sit by the edge and watch the reflection glimmer on the water.

  “What are you thinking about?” Kingston asks from beside me.

  “How lovely your Mom and Dad are.”

  Kingston’s lips pull into a small smile. “They like you.”

  “Did you tell them what’s going on between us?” I ask.

  “No. But my Grandfather says I shouldn’t take up poker.”

  “Yes. Gerald was very set on us being in love.” I raise my eyebrows at him, attempting a joke. Kingston’s forehead forms into a frown. I’m about to ask him if he’s okay when his mouth lands on mine, his hands find my waist and tug me closer to him.

  I whimper against his lips.

  “What was that pact we made about sex?” he mumbles against me, his breath warm on my lips.

  “I can’t remember …” I lie, and climb on top of him.

  “Well that’s a shame.” His eyes glimmer in the moonlight. I straddle him, my hair already in disarray.

  “You’re beautiful.” He watches me. “If someone had told me when we were teenagers that I’d get to hold you and kiss you … and have you …” He focuses his attention to his hands on my waist.

  “King?” I ask delicately.

  “I don’t want to mess this up, Mae.”

  “You won’t.”

  “I want to be good to you. And good for you.”

  “You are both.”

  He sits up, catches my lower lip between his teeth. I feel him rock-hard against my core.

  All of a sudden we hear giggling and the crunching of leaves, the sound getting louder as it gets closer. Voices. Logan’s laugh barrels th
rough the silence of the lake and the music drifting down the hill from the tent.

  “Shit,” I curse, pulling myself from Kingston. We straighten our clothes out, I brush my hair through with my fingers.

  “Mae?” I hear Sammy chirp, just making out her silhouette.

  “Hey!” I prance up the small slope away from the lake.

  “What are you two doing?” Logan asks.

  “Taking a breather,” Kingston states effortlessly behind me.

  “What about you?” I ask.

  “Sammy was sure there was a tree around here with her initials on it,” Logan chuckles.

  “There was! I came here for some renaissance fair when I was a kid!”

  “Renaissance fair?” I laugh.

  “My parents went through a phase,” Sammy confirms.

  We slowly make our way back to the tent. Kingston lagging behind, adjusting his pants.

  “Did you find it?” I ask.

  There’s silence. “Huh?” Sammy finally asks.

  “Did you find the tree?” I ask.

  “Yeah!” Logan exclaims.

  “My S was backwards.”

  I take Sammy by the arm and drift toward the dance floor with her. Glancing back at Kingston, I hold his gaze which has set itself on me.

  Is this what love is? Can I love someone this soon after such a messy breakup? Can I love someone when it’s a messy secret?

  Next to Kingston, Logan throws his arms in the air caught up in a dramatic story, unknowingly pulling him from our moment and back into a conversation.

  Sammy watches me, a smirk on her face.

  “What?” I ask over the hip-hop song playing.

  She doesn’t reply with words, her smug smile says it all.

  CHAPTER sixteen

  The next morning, I wake alone in my bed. We got home late and Logan sat at the end of my bed chatting to me until early morning.

  By the time I have a coffee in my hand it’s midday and there’s a note sprawled across the mini whiteboard next to the fridge - Gone to shoot hoops and sweat alcohol with King - L x

  I hear Kingston’s cell ring from the table by the couch. His obnoxiously loud ring tone that sounds painstakingly like an alarm clock. I check it. It’s an area code and number I don’t know.

  I unlock the large glass sliding doors and pull them across, allowing breeze to fill the house.