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American Sweethearts

Page 11

by Adriana Herrera


  He tightened his arms around me, a deep sigh rumbling on his chest. “If you’re good. I’m good. We can figure out the rest later.” The gentle kiss he planted on my forehead made the last of my reservation seep out of my body and I settled in.

  “Okay. Later.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Juan Pablo

  “You know what’s wild?” Priscilla asked, as she cut off a piece of the omelet I’d made for her. Spinach and feta, her favorite.

  “I’m sure you’ll tell me,” I teased as I wiped down my granite countertops trying to keep my cheesy grin under control. I was feeling pretty fucking good.

  We’d laid in bed, messing around and talking until her stomach growled, making us both laugh. She was always starving after sex, and that usually meant I cooked while she kept me company. I was sort of blown away by how not freaked out she was. I almost didn’t want to tempt fate by getting too deep. But this felt good. To have her here like this. Not just making love, although that had been great. But us opening up to each other after so much hurt. I wanted to keep this going forever.

  “I don’t even believe in soulmates.” She lifted a shoulder and shook her head, still clearly baffled by this fact. “I’m one hundred percent sure there are hundreds of people out there I could be happy with. That I could have hot as fuck sex with and feel satisfied by in real ways.”

  Okay that’s not where I thought she was going, but I tried hard not to scowl. She knew me too well not to know what was going through my head.

  She held a hand up with a grin on her face, as I stood there confused. “It’s just...they’re not you, and that’s why I’ve stayed away.” That was said with her looking at the plate. And fiddling with the sleeve of one of my hoodies which she was now wearing.

  I nodded again, a sharp brisk movement, and really tried to figure out why she’d told me that. Why now? Did she want me to know that what happened tonight was a one-off? Did she feel compelled to stress the point that this hadn’t mattered to her as much as it had for me?

  I’d been working hard at not making assumptions, so I would take what she was saying like I thought she meant it. That things with us were never simple. That we had hurt each other a lot over the years, so it was best not to tempt fate.

  She was right about all of it, and I had to tell her I knew that.

  “I’m not going to say I never meant to hurt you, because that’s not true. I’ve done it too many times to not take responsibility for it.” I ran a hand over my mouth and pulled on my beard, hard. Looking for words that could work right now. Words that could allow me to tell her I’d discovered that losing her was the one thing in my life there was no safety net for.

  That the Priscilla-sized void stayed empty and aching no matter how hard I worked on filling it back up.

  “I talked to my therapist about this.” My mouth always did me dirty at the most critical moments.

  Her eyes went comically huge. “Your therapist?”

  “I have a therapist.” I wasn’t going to make a big deal out of it, but a little sense of pride puffed up in my chest at how surprised she seemed.

  She leaned back, her arms crossed over her chest, and grinned. Okay so that fun fact landed better than I thought it would.

  Her smile was devilish and I had to remind my dick that this was not the time. That motherfucker never learned.

  “So after all those years of you shutting me down, you finally started going to a therapist. I’m gagged that you finally got your stubborn ass to find one.”

  I did laugh then, because I should’ve known. “Okay, so basically all you needed to hear was that you were right all along to get all relaxed and shit.”

  She laughed again and leaned closer, her hands gripping the edge of my breakfast counter, but whatever she was going to say wiped the smile off her face. By the time she opened her mouth her eyes were as serious as I’d ever seen them. And just under that seriousness I saw a flicker of the small flame of hope that was burning in my gut. “What are we going to do, J? Did we just ruin our chance at being friends?”

  She looked scared and it carved out a hole in my chest.

  “Can we start by trying to be friends again, Pris?” I swallowed, having trouble believing I was actually saying it. “I mean you know my dick and pretty much every part of my body is always up for whatever with you, and after what we just did, I’m gonna need a dick cage or something when I’m around you.” That at least made her laugh, but I wanted to say this next part. “I’m not going to lie. I’d love to keep exploring this,” I explained, as I came closer so that I was standing in front of her. “But I don’t want anything that stresses you out. I want to be a good part of your life again.”

  She closed her eyes and I had to squeeze my fists hard to keep from reaching out for her. But we needed to talk this out. “This doesn’t have to happen again. We can go back to just friends, no benefits.” My heart was galloping in my chest, my vision blurry from the fear that Pris would walk out of here today and that would be the end.

  But when she opened her eyes they weren’t sad anymore. “I don’t know if I can do a relationship right now, J. Or maybe ever again.”

  Okay that hurt, that really fucking hurt, but I wasn’t going to fight her on that, so I just nodded, resigned.

  “But.” She tapped a finger on my chest, and gave me a sad smile. “Tonight was good, so thank you.”

  “I’m not gonna ask if I can get some of that good good again,” I said, as I sucked my teeth, flexed my biceps and generally acted up. “But you know I always, always want it. And now that you know where I live, you know where you can get it.”

  “You’re a fucking clown.” There was no malice in her words, just the familiar helplessly amused tone Pris sometimes got when we were together and I goofed around on her.

  “This is true, but I am a clown that’s been in therapy for a while now and I don’t want to fuck this up. I want you back in my life, Priscilla. I miss you.”

  She nodded once and then leaned all the way over the table to kiss me once, gently, on the cheek. She looked content, if still a bit reserved. And something that had been cold and dead in my chest for years, pulsed with warmth.

  “I can’t promise anything beyond knowing I don’t want to close this door. That’s the best I can do right now. And I’m not gonna lie, this place is pretty swank, I wouldn’t mind dropping by every once in a while.”

  I pounced on that in a hot second. Even though neither of us would say it right now, we both knew her taste and the things she’d always said she liked were present in a hundred different ways all over the apartment. “Tu sabes que mi casa es tu casa. Siempre.”

  “Okay, Imma eat my food and get back into that bomb bed of yours for a nap before I head home. I can’t show up at dawn with my parents there, but you wore me out.” A shy smile, a nod, and it seemed like we’d sealed the deal, and started a new page.

  I looked at her for a second and held my tongue because I wanted to say all kinds of reckless shit. But I wouldn’t fuck this up. No, I’d slowly show her that I could be the person she leaned on, who got her. Who could hold it down when she needed it.

  That I wanted to be all of that for her. Not because I was her soulmate, like her I knew that there were probably other people I could be happy with. But still, Pris was the only one I wanted. And if tonight had proved anything it was that we still worked a hell of a lot better together than we did apart.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Priscilla

  I got to the Uptown Center about thirty minutes before my first ever workshop there was about to start, feeling a hot mess. I saw through the glass doors that the place was still busy almost at 7:00 p.m. and despite my foul mood a small frisson of excitement ran through me. It was scary to blend my two worlds like this, but being able to do one of my workshops in my old hood felt special. Things with J had been...in
teresting since that night we hooked up. I’d expected salacious texts at midnight or other suggestive behavior pushing for more. But nothing came. He’d been more than clear about what he wanted, but the ball was in my court when it came to taking it further.

  So far I’d resisted the temptation of showing up at his house. Not just the sex, and I would be a liar if I didn’t admit I wanted it, all the time. I wanted what we’d had that night, the ease, the comfort. But it almost felt like a mirage. Like that night had been a fluke to trick me into believing in something that wasn’t really there. But I wasn’t here to agonize about J on the sidewalk. I was here to work.

  I leaned against the cold brick wall of the building and took a couple of breaths, trying to let the tension of the day seep out. Just as my breathing was getting back to normal my work phone buzzed. The dread swirling in my stomach over a simple call from work should’ve been indicator enough that I needed to rethink my career. But that was yet another topic that would need to stay in the “Avoidance” shelf for a bit longer. I sighed, hoping it wasn’t more bad news and pulled it out of my jacket pocket. As soon as I read the first few words of the message from Bri, I knew it wouldn’t be good.

  Hey, babe, I hope you don’t get this until after your class AND I don’t want you to worry, but looks like April didn’t come home last night or to school today. Sanchez is on it. But since you asked me to let you know if anything happened with that case I’m giving you a heads-up. Good luck. Call me later.

  Fuck. This was one of the cases that was keeping me up at night. A twelve-year-old who in the past year had gotten pregnant and miscarried and, not surprisingly, had been acting out since. She lived with her mom and stepdad and the story was that she’d been hooking up with some thirteen-year-old who’d only been in town for the summer, and had gone back to Georgia. No one could give any details on this kid, who he was staying with, even a last name. None of it added up.

  But that was the story, and she was still sticking to it. Something about the stepdad gave me the creeps. But since he seemed to have his shit together, no matter how much I pushed about it, the rest of the team—other than Bri—didn’t think anything was happening there. I’d been keeping tabs on her, certain things weren’t good at home, but I couldn’t do much if she didn’t give us much to go on. Except now she was starting to stay out all night.

  Dammit, Bri. Something is seriously wrong in that house.

  I gripped my phone, trying hard not to get all worked up. This was technically not even my domain yet. Not until she gave us more information. And that was not happening just yet. I was looking intently at the dots indicating that Bri was working on a response when I felt someone tap my shoulder.

  Before I could even think about what I was doing I turned around, my fist in the air.

  “Jesus, Priscilla, chill.” J looked startled and a little pale as his chest heaved up and down, but I was too on edge to think him sneaking up on me on the street like that was cute.

  “No, you know better than to run up on a cop like that. I’m PMSing too, you’re lucky you still have all your teeth. What the fuck, Juan Pablo?” I was yelling at him, full-on screaming, and something about my face must’ve been really scary because he didn’t say a word. I was expecting to see the vein on his forehead that usually popped out when he was really heated make an appearance.

  I expected him to walk into the center and leave me there seething, but instead he took a deep breath, fixed his face and lifted the paper bag in his hand.

  “I got you a burrito bowl.” He didn’t snap his words or tell me I was acting like I had no home training out here in the street. In front of his father’s center where everyone on the block knew him.

  None of that. Cool, calm and extremely fucking collected, he handed me the food. “Since you texted saying you were running behind, I walked over to Chipotle and got you something to eat.”

  I knew I had to look like I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me. He dropped his shoulder and stepped back, both hands in front of him. “Don’t get mad, but I forgot to get you the Tabasco sauce you like.” His mouth twitched and my face was so hot I wondered if it was making steam when the cold December air hit it.

  I deflated as I looked inside the bag and saw that he’d gotten me a side of the corn salsa I loved.

  “You’re a fucking cheeseball. Thank you.” I sounded tired and a little flustered—which dammit, I was.

  He just shook his head and hiked a thumb over his shoulder. His head angled toward the center. “You can eat in my mom’s office. She went home already.” He looked at his watch, then gestured to my duffel bag. “Take a few and eat, so you don’t get all hangry. I’ll start setting up.”

  There was zero judgement in his eyes, and mine were almost filling up with tears, because I could not remember the last time someone did something like this for me. That someone saw I was close to my limit and just took some of the load from me.

  I clutched the still-warm bag to my chest and nodded as I tried to get my shit together. I didn’t need to burst into tears over a burrito bowl.

  “You really came in clutch, J. I was going to be ravenous by the time we finished.” I lifted my phone, which was still in my hand. “I just need a second. See you in there.”

  He didn’t comment on my obvious disheveled state and smiled. “Okay, just let Jenny at the front desk know who you are and she’ll show you where the office is.” With that he walked in.

  I really needed to think about the state of affairs of my job and life. This was not like me, I didn’t fall apart. I didn’t cry on sidewalks.

  When I looked down at my phone Bri’s message managed to at least get me out of my previous mutinous state.

  Sanchez just texted. She’s at her aunt’s. We’re going to have to figure out what happened, but that’s more on us and CPS, not you, not right now anyway. Go teach those sixty-year-olds how to get freaky and we’ll hold down the fort over here. And EAT something.

  I had no words left, so I just sent him a long row of heart emojis. After one last deep breath I walked into the center, ready to do my workshop and determined to not let things I could not control take away from this night.

  * * *

  By the time I’d polished off the entire bowl and had something to drink, Juan Pablo had all my stuff set up in the room. There were chairs in a semi-circle facing the front, and a projector was ready to go with the first slide of my presentation already up. He had the packing cube I used to carry my demo toys on top of the desk sitting next to the handouts, and was looking very pleased with himself.

  I had to admit that the food had gone a long way to bolster my mood and with just under ten minutes to go before our class was supposed to start, excitement started bubbling up inside me.

  “Thank you,” I said, as I admired the room. It was well lit and roomy. There was also a door, so we’d have a private space to discuss whatever came up.

  He pushed his lips out and I knew he was trying not to smile. “I love the title of the presentation.”

  I turned my attention to the screen as if I didn’t know what was there.

  Keep Coming: Great Sex at Any Age

  I chuckled and started unzipping my goodies bag to make sure I had everything I needed. “My friend Mirna came up with it. She and I usually co-facilitate this, but she’s visiting her grandkids on the West Coast.”

  He made a noise that sounded like he approved, and was considering something. “You’ve got like a whole network of people holding it down for you when it comes to this stuff.”

  I nodded, considering his comment, when I heard voices coming from outside. My heart started racing when I realized those were probably my workshop attendees. I turned and tried very hard to keep a straight face as I lined up tubes of lube, dildos, cock rings and vibrators on a towel. To his credit J didn’t even crack a smile.

  I talked as I worked. “I
’ve met a lot of people through the online store and trade shows. I’ve also been doing those toy parties.” I leaned against the desk and kept an eye on the door in case anyone came in. “That’s where I got the idea for the workshops. I kept going into these different spaces and got really mixed groups. I mean you know how it was in our communities, the sex talks were not happening. And when we did get them it was like three words.”

  He nodded knowingly and offered them up. “Don’t do it.”

  I laughed without any humor. “Right. So just the lack of education was enough to get me thinking. But I also got a lot of non-binary folx and older people, and they all had questions, had things to say. Then Bri and I started talking about his experience and how things were for him during transition and after. How he dealt with intimacy, the changes, good, bad or unexpected, et cetera.” I shrugged, not wanting to go on for too long. “I noticed there was a need there, in our communities, you know? There is so much to unpack for enby folx, and for black and brown bodies in general about pleasure, and our right to it.”

  I waved a hand at two women standing by the door. They were both Afro-Latinas, and could’ve totally been someone’s abuelitas, but they had a pep in their step as they walked in.

  “Come in, please.” I looked up at J again, who was already moving away from the desk. “You light up when you talk about this stuff, Pris. It’s a good look on you.” He fidgeted a little bit. I wondered if he was going to say something extra or try to be funny like he did sometimes when he was out of sorts, but he didn’t. “Can I stay? Listen in? I promise I won’t interfere.”

  This boy. He was really trying to ruin me, again.

  I dipped my head as I waved at a couple other people coming in. I looked at my watch and saw that we had another five minutes. “You can stay, J.” I winked and tried to keep my stupid heart from lurching in my chest. “I’ll even let you ask a question.”

 

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