by Hazel Kelly
“What’s that?” I asked, my insides cartwheeling. “I can’t hear you over those pedestrian clothes.”
She scowled.
“Now go change, and you can tell me all about it over dinner,” I said, tucking a wisp of hair behind her ear. “And again while I’m having you for dessert.”
She blushed at me until her body jerked with another hiccup.
And just when I thought it wasn’t possible, I fell even further.
F O R T Y S I X
- Brie -
I knew before we reached the restaurant that we’d turned a corner in our relationship. Or rather, that I had.
James hadn’t wavered. Not even for a second. He’d been loving me, supporting me, and cheering me up and on since he moved in. But for the first time, I finally felt like maybe our relationship wasn’t doomed. After all, who’s to say we shouldn’t be together? Our parents? They clearly believed it didn’t matter who got steamrolled as long as your heart kept singing.
Not that I admired that about them.
But I did admire James. So much. For so many more reasons than the superficial ones I first admired him for.
Best of all, he wasn’t treating me weird because of what I’d been through. There was no pity lurking in his blue eyes. Only warmth and respect. As if I were still the girl who once blushed over the attention he paid my corsage. Then again, maybe I was.
My feelings for him certainly hadn’t changed since then. I still found him intimidatingly attractive with a disarming sense of humor. He was still the man in my life I could count on most. And he was still my dream guy. I’d just never had the guts to admit that last part before.
But I’d learned my lesson.
Good feelings shouldn’t be taken for granted because they aren’t a small deal. If anything, they’re all that matter. And I felt better with James than I felt with anyone. Regardless of what we were doing. Regardless of whether my clothes were on.
He was so much more than a childhood crush. He was the reason I wasn’t curled up at home feeling sorry for myself, the reason I was out. Feeling beautiful. Feeling loved.
Yes, he was too charming for his own good, but he didn’t even know the half of it. He was far more wonderful and gallant than he even realized. And if I squandered my chance to love him back, I wouldn’t get to be the woman who spent the rest of her life enjoying his unique brilliance. And I wanted that. More than anything.
Even more than I wanted my writing to matter, which was both terrifying and exciting in equal measure. Because while I still dreamed on some level that writing could be my legacy, loving him back seemed an equally inspiring and worthwhile prospect.
“Penny for your thoughts?” he said, the candle between us flickering.
“I thought you were going to take me somewhere fancy,” I joked, looking around like the restaurant was a dump. In truth, it was the hippest venue I’d been to in some time, all black wrought-iron furniture with dark green seat cushions and light fixtures that doubled as industrial art. My favorite detail, though, was the black lace curtains, which lent an unexpected softness to the place that was almost imperceptible.
“Are you kidding?” he asked. “They brew their own beer here and everything. If that isn’t the height of elegance, I don’t know what is.”
I laughed. “Relax, I’m kidding. I love it. Anywhere with cheese curds on the menu is right up my street.”
He rolled his eyes.
Even the candles were cool. They were stuck in antique gin bottles and the melted wax had formed a mottled, multicolored mountain that trickled down to the table. It was the kind of organic sculpture that never would’ve been able to materialize in the company of the antsy students I usually hung out with.
“Is that what you want?” he asked. “Cheese curds?”
I nodded enthusiastically.
“What about for your main course?”
I dropped my eyes to the menu, my heart fluttering under the weight of his gaze. “Steak?”
He laughed. “Why so tentative?”
“Well, is it going to be one of those massive ones that hangs off three sides of the plate?”
He cocked his head.
“Because I’m not up for that.”
“We could share the brisket,” he said. “It’s their specialty, and I bet you’d look adorable with sauce on your face.”
“Don’t be filthy.”
“You’re the one who asked me what meat you should put in your mouth.”
My eyes flicked up to the dimly lit, bare bulbs overhead. “I’m sure those weren’t my words.”
“Did I mishear you?” he asked, bringing a hand to his chest. “I apologize. It feels like I’ve had something in my ear ever since you said you loved me without choking on the words.”
I scowled at him. “You might’ve said it back.”
His gaze narrowed. “A clever girl like you doesn’t need to be told things she already knows.”
“Not true,” I said. “Not when it comes to that specific phrase.”
“I’ll try and remember that for the future.”
My lips curled towards a smile. “Do.”
“In the meantime,” he asked, “why the change of heart?”
“There hasn’t been one,” I said, my lashes batting. “Just a change of attitude.”
“Brought on by…?”
I shrugged. How could I explain that in a world with so much bad, I didn’t want to waste my energy fighting off things that were good?
“It was those photos, wasn’t it?” he asked. “It was that sick bowl cut I had.”
I bit back a laugh.
“I don’t know what I was thinking.” He cringed as he shook his head. “That haircut did not make me a more convincing skateboarder.”
“It wasn’t your sick bowl cut.”
“No shit. If anything, that haircut’s probably to blame for you not coming around sooner.”
I laughed.
“All that time lost.” He slumped against the back of his chair. “If only I could’ve admitted to myself that I cared more about you than being the next Tony Hawk. What a waste.”
“Actually, your skateboard was one of the first things I noticed about you.”
His brows jumped. “What?”
“It’s true. The first time I saw you, I was playing tetherball with Maddy, and you kicked it up and caught it.”
He beamed. “Are you telling me something good came out of all that time I spent in the Centennial Street skatepark? Because I can’t overstate what that would mean to me.”
“I’m telling you the skateboard caught my attention.”
“Brilliant,” he said. “And then I kept it with that bowl cut.”
“And here I thought your powers of seduction were a recent phenomenon.”
“And here I thought it took you a decade to realize what a catch I am.”
“Oh, you’re a catch alright,” I teased.
“Catch of your life,” he said, his eyes smiling.
“So humble pie for you and cheese curds for me then?”
He leaned forward and folded his hands on the table. “I’ll eat anything you ask me to.”
My cheeks burned, and my belly clenched at the intensity of his unflinching gaze. “James.” His name came out like a breath. A plea. Not here. Don’t make me want you like this now, before we’ve even ordered. Before we’ve even gotten our drinks.
“But I want you to do something for me.”
I blinked at him, my imagination running wild with all the things I hoped he’d ask me to do, all the things I hoped he’d command me to do.
“Come see my new place.”
I let out the breath I was holding.
“After dinner,” he said. “It’s not too far from here.”
Light filled my chest. “Let me guess, there’s something in your room you want to show me?”
“Yeah,” he said, his lips twitching towards a smile. “Something like that.”
F O R
T Y S E V E N
- James -
I didn’t realize how nervous I was to show her the place until we were walking up the concrete steps.
“Which floor is yours?” she asked, her eyes sweeping up the brown brick façade.
“All of them.”
“Really?”
“Of course,” I said, sticking my key in the door. “If I’m going to sink my life savings into a place, I can’t risk having neighbors bowling on the floors above me.”
She clasped her hands in front of her. “You must be better at gambling with other people’s money than I thought.”
I shot her a disapproving glance before pushing the door open for her. “That’s not exactly what I do.”
“Sure it’s not,” she said, walking past me. “I’m sure it’s all totally above board.”
I could tell she was trying to get a rise out of me, but she forgot her teasing as soon as she stepped into the entryway. And when I saw how wide her eyes had grown, I felt eight feet tall.
“It wasn’t like this before,” I said, stepping around her to paint the picture. “There was a door here for the downstairs unit, a door here for the first floor, and the stairs were much narrower than they are now.”
“This is gorgeous.”
Her compliment floated towards the high ceiling and my heels nearly floated after it. “It means a lot to hear you say that.”
“I didn’t think it would be so big.” She wandered into the living room, which was empty apart from an industrial vacuum cleaner in the corner.
“All the fireplaces work,” I said, walking over to study the newly sanded mantelpiece. It would soon be painted the shade of white my mom chose as I couldn’t bring myself to care about the nuances between basic eggshell, brilliant eggshell, and brilliantly basic eggshell…or whatever the heck they were called. “The last tenants boarded them up, but—”
“Is the basement finished?”
“Is that your way of asking if it’s fit for rollerblading?”
She struggled to suppress a smile. “Maybe.”
“It’s not, I’m afraid. It’s a standalone unit, though. So I can rent it out if I want.”
“That’s so clever. So it has a full kitchen and everything?”
“Yep.” I took a few steps back, my eyes drifting up to the wires where the light fixture I chose would soon be. “Everything except mold.”
Brie turned to look out the curved bay window at the front of the house, and a lump rose in my throat. Suddenly, it seemed so obvious. She was the throw pillows the place was missing. She was the warmth.
It was surreal. She was only standing there, but I had chills all over. Because for the first time, I could see myself living there. Feeling at home there. Being happy there.
She caught me staring when she spun around, and her eyes smiled.
“Ready to see the kitchen?” I asked.
“Definitely,” she said, her enthusiasm bouncing off the walls and making them feel less hollow. Making me feel less hollow.
I stole a deep breath when I stepped around the corner, feeling nervous and excited all at once.
“Wow,” she said, dragging out the word as her sparkling eyes danced around the kitchen.
The whole place still smelled like sawdust. Logically, I knew that. But her expression made me smell pot roast and pancakes and…potpourri.
“I love the cabinets.” She reached up and dragged her fingertips across one.
“Think you’ll love them in twenty years?” I asked. “Because I’m not putting another cent into this kitchen for at least that long.”
She smiled over her shoulder at me, her blonde hair falling over the back of her peacoat. “Did you pick all this stuff?”
I nodded. “For the most part.”
She studied the double oven before sweeping her attention up to the crown molding I had restored. “Your attention to detail is almost surprising.”
“Almost?”
Her eyes found mine. “I’m not sure anything you do surprises me anymore.”
“Bullshit.”
She bit back a playful smile.
"Wait till I get you upstairs.”
“Is the surprise a bed?”
I laughed. “If there’s a bed up there, you’re not the only one who’s going to be surprised.” I tilted my head towards the entryway. “Come on.”
She nibbled her lip and followed, removing her coat when she saw me hanging mine on the bannister at the bottom of the stairs.
“I’ll take that,” I said, hanging her jacket before gesturing for her to lead the way.
She laid a foot on the golden-beige carpet, which was only installed a few days ago and still smelled factory fresh. “This is gorgeous,” she said, letting her fingers trail up the wooden bannister. “I can’t believe it’s all yours.”
It isn’t, I thought, my eyes clinging to her hips as she ascended the stairs in front of me. Not all of it. Not yet.
Her steps were torturously slow and with every stair she climbed, my heart pounded faster.
“What’s your favorite thing about the place?” she asked, her eyes following the blank walls up to the high ceilings.
We were almost at the top when I answered her. “You.”
She spun around on the stairs and looked at me.
“You’re my favorite thing in this house.”
Her head fell to one side, and I slid my hands around her hips, her soft dress bunching under my fingers as I tightened my grip.
“James.”
I fixed my gaze on hers. “I need you here.”
“I’m here,” she said, her hands sliding over my shoulders.
“You don’t understand,” I said, my fingers fisting the fabric of her soft brown dress. “I need you now.” I leaned forward and kissed her, parting her lips with mine until we melted together, her hands dripping down my chest until her fingers curled and clawed against my shirt.
I reached between her legs, teasing the thin fabric of her tights until her breath shallowed.
“Invite me in,” I whispered as her desire dampened my fingertips.
She shoved her tights and panties down, which was all the invitation I needed.
I brought two fingers to her slit, cursing under my breath when I discovered how wet she was. “You must really like the house.”
She started to laugh, but I interrupted the sound by sliding my fingers inside her, eliciting a moan that made her hourglass body shake around my hand.
Soft pants escaped her parted lips, warming my face like sunshine.
And even though she was as ready for me as I was aching for her, I needed to make her understand that I would never stop surprising her. “Turn around,” I growled, pulling my hand from between her thighs and spinning her around. Then I fingered her from behind, hugging her against me while she writhed with pleasure, my mouth watering as her legs inched apart.
And when her tights were stretched between her knees, I circled her swollen clit with my fingers and buried my face in her hair. “Bend over, beautiful.”
She leaned forward on her hands, glancing over her shoulder as I pushed the fabric of her dress up around her waist. Then I went down on her like I was starving, and she gasped and gushed for me in turn, my hunger stoked by the sweet taste of her silk.
She whimpered my name and sank to her knees, but I kept hold of her hips, burying my tongue ever deeper into her molten center. And with every buck of her body, I licked her harder, lapping at her liquid pleasure as I sculpted my hands over her perfect ass and willed her to give me everything.
Because she tasted better than heaven. She tasted like home.
F O R T Y E I G H T
- Brie -
I fell forward, desperate to catch my breath and all too aware that my ass was once again suspended in James’s face. With my tights bunched around my knees, I flipped over on the stairs and looked up at him.
He licked my silk off his glossy lips, and I swallowed when I saw the hunger in h
is eyes.
A sly smile tugged at his mouth as he knelt in front of me and began peeling my tights off.
I watched with bated breath, still reeling from the way he’d made my body gush. And when he spread my legs apart, I watched him drop his face between my weakened knees to drink from me again.
My head fell back at the first brush of his tongue, and I slid my fingers in his hair, moaning as he lapped at me, his skilled tongue setting my insides on fire and sapping the strength from my limbs. Soon the heat was overwhelming, and everything melted away except my boiling core and the mess of blond hair buried between my useless legs. “Don’t stop,” I said, bracing myself against the steps.
A growl rumbled up his throat, sending vibrations through my sensitive bud that made my lashes flutter back and then…
I meant to warn him, but my body was already shaking on the stairs like I’d fallen across an active faultline, my greedy hips bucking against his face as he tightened his hold on my thighs. “Oh god!” I cried, reveling in how light I felt, how filled with light.
When I finally stopped shuddering, he crawled over me and kissed me hard, letting me taste my sweetness on his fevered lips. To my surprise, I tasted good. Like strawberry water, and I moaned to let him know I liked the way I tasted on him.
The weight of his hips sank between my legs then, and I felt his hard length against me, the outside of his pants soaking up the puddle between my thighs. I sucked his tongue, my smiles like aftershocks interrupting how badly I wanted to kiss him back everywhere. “Your pants are ruining everything,” I whispered.
He laughed and straightened his arms, looking down at me with wicked eyes.
“Whenever you’re ready,” I joked, knowing there wasn’t a bored bone in my body.
He pushed himself up and shoved his pants and boxers down, his swollen length bobbing to attention before my eyes.
I licked my lips, admiring the way his thick shaft ached for me. Then I leaned forward and grabbed him with both hands.
He watched as I swirled my tongue around the rim of his cock like I was tending to a melting sorbet, and I flicked my eyes up to his, enjoying the look of tortured satisfaction on his face. On my next pass, he inhaled sharply and ran a hand over one side of my head with a tenderness that took me by surprise. But as soon as I sank him to the back of my throat, his fist tightened around a clump of my hair, and I knew the tender moment was behind us.