The Cuddler

by Liv Kingstown

  Kevin: Not joking.

  I scroll through our previous messages. Have I been leading him on? Surely, he’s not still interested in dating me after all that drama in the parking lot at the mall. I also figure he was feeling sorry for me after my father called him, which is why he came over.

  I was sad when he left this morning. I pretended to be sleeping. I wasn’t sure if I’d hear from him or not, now that he saw me.

  Kevin: I’ll take your silence as a sign you’re totally beside yourself because you’re so high on the thought of me between your legs that you’re unable to respond.

  I am unable to respond. He’s so beautiful and I’m so—

  Kevin: ?

  * * *

  Kevin: Btw, did I mention my mother had breast cancer?

  I’m intrigued.

  Me: Say what?

  * * *

  Kevin: Yeah, she went through cancer treatment for nearly ten years. Her boobs are fake. Your father mentioned this morning your mother passed away from the same type of breast cancer you’re undergoing therapy for now

  * * *

  Me: I’m finished with chemo. We shall see if I need another round

  I’m going to kill Dad! How is it Dad has fallen in love so easily with Kevin and spilled the beans on everything when it took my father over a decade to warm up to Delaney?

  Kevin: I’m sorry you lost your mom and that she can’t be here for you.

  * * *

  Me: You don’t have to be sorry. I’m happy your mother is a survivor

  * * *

  Kevin: Me too

  * * *

  Kevin: I want you to meet her

  * * *

  Kevin: I’d like to take you to meet her

  * * *

  Kevin: I want to be there for you

  * * *

  Kevin: I want to be *with* you.

  * * *

  Kevin: And I won’t even hold it against you that you can’t type fast enough to respond between my texts ;)

  With each message that pops on my screen, my bottom lip is getting sorer as I bite into it. I’m so anxious but so hopeful at the same time. It’s amazing how easy is it to fall in love with Kevin—again. I believe we are all in love with him. Delaney could’ve blocked him from calling her but she didn’t. She let Kevin irritate the hell out of her for months on end. And, although Dad did block Kevin, it was Dad who was the one to reach out to the young man afterward. And after I left that man because I believed we were in no way good for each other than for one night (or two or three), I’ve easily let Kevin back into my life.

  I want him back in my life.

  Underneath the sexy swag and cocky attitude is nothing but a physically tender and deeply affectionate man.

  Kevin: Lee?

  * * *

  Me: Ok. I’ll take a turn

  * * *

  Kevin: Turn? At what?

  * * *

  Me: Last night, you mentioned you wanted to switch. I’ll be the cuddler tonight

  * * *

  Kevin: YAAASSSS! But I’m not cuddling the dog. I don’t care how much you like that fleabag. No more threesomes.

  * * *

  Me: Ok :( No more threesomes. I’ll get the dog his own bed.

  * * *

  Kevin: Ok. Never mind. I see the sad face. If you want to sleep in a threesome with the dog...

  My heart skips a beat every time my phone dings with a new message throughout the day. For the most part, I feel like I’m floating on cloud nine until I remind myself that Kevin has yet to see me completely naked since we were last together.

  I go to the bathroom to inspect myself. I lift up my shirt to stare at my breasts, which are not really breasts but small, smooth mounds. Dr. Fleur, my surgeon, had left some breast tissue but my breasts have been reduced to the size of an anthill. And I have no nipples. In time, Dr. Fleur says he will be able to make nipples for me (although they won’t feel the same and I’ll have to have the areolas tattooed on). He says he’ll use my own tissue and local anesthetic with numbing medication, so I won’t have to be sedated. Sedation is not an option for me and neither is breast implants as the risk is too high, considering I flatlined during surgery the last time and we still don’t know why.

  At some point, Kevin is going to want to get a look and I’m scared to death about what he’s going to think. In truth, I’d rather risk full-blown surgery and even death then let Kevin get a look at me like this.

  When he gets home after seven in the evening, the three of us—my father, Kevin, and I sit down together for dinner. Poor Kevin looks exhausted after having driven two hours each way to and from the city, so my father insists that Kevin shower and relax as my father does the dishes. They are both laughing at the fact that I don’t do dishes, but it’s me who really has the upper hand. It was my mother’s best advice, “Love your man, but let him do the dishes.”

  I talk with my father for the time that Kevin is in the shower, which seems to take forever. I search for him and I’m not surprised to find Kevin sleeping in my twin-sized bed. He’s in such a deep sleep, he has no clue he’s cuddling the dog. I slip myself between them, allowing myself to be spooned by Kevin. I doze off, thankful I did not have to reveal my body to him just yet.

  But regret funnels its way into my listless mind as I’m awoken in the middle of the night to fingers that have found their way under my tank to fondle my chest. When a hand, Kevin’s hand, palms what I wish so much could be a full breast, I notice something poke me from behind. My mind becomes fully alert but I remain still as I let Kevin explore what is left of me while his erection gets harder, pressing against my backside.

  A kiss lands hot and wet at the back of my fuzzy skull and the hand that was at my chest glides down my front. Kevin leans up to tug my underwear down and when he lays back to spoon me, he grabs my leg, wrapping it back over his thigh, to spread my leg over him. With a lick of his finger, he finds my clit and rubs me as his erection enters me.

  Kevin groans as he penetrates me, filling me with ecstasy, but the dog begins to whimper, so I lean over to place the dog on the floor. I figure Kevin takes it as a sign that I want more and before I can argue, Kevin has pulled out, rolled me to my back, and is on top of me, nudging my legs apart with his knees and his hands.

  He attempts to lift my tank top and I resist, keeping it pulled down. He tugs at my fingers as he whispers hot and heavy. “I want to be naked with you, Lee.”

  My body trembles as a tear escapes my eye. His eyes remain fixed on my face with his hand pulling on the fabric in a gentle tug-o-war against me. Realizing, he’s not going to let up. I let Kevin lift my shirt. I let him do it even though I still don’t want him to see. I let him because if there’s any way for us to have a chance, I know I need to let him see what he has to work with. Kevin doesn’t just enjoy giving physical affection, he needs affection as well. Eventually, he’s going to want to get physical with everything.

  Once my shirt is off, he leans over, turning on the light to look at my body. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much. You’re so cute and adorable and beautiful.”

  What is wrong with him? Does he not see what’s missing?

  Kevin comes down hard to lay on top of me and he grips me by the back of the neck. His eyes beam with need. “I need to be inside you, Lee. Can I come inside you?”

  I nod and without warning, Kevin slams into me. My hips buck as I yelp with the invasion of his prick, prodding. His mouth lands against my ear. Pressing his hot lips, he speaks. “You don’t ever leave me like that again. Do you understand?”

  Kevin slams into me. Again and again, he plunges hard. Deep. The repetitive knock of his groin against my thighs and my center makes me hungry for more but also tense with anticipation of what is escalating.

  “Mmm. Fuck. Yeah.” Kevin growls.

  Mmm. Fuck. No! We’re making too much noise! The bed is shaking. The headboard is also knocking.

  “Kevin, shh,” I try to soothe him. I don’t want my fat
her to hear us. But, of course, as if I should expect anything less, Kevin pounds me harder.

  He grips me. I feel so frail in his hands as if I’m at the mercy of the full power of his affection. The ring between my legs through which his erection is repeatedly penetrating me falls to his mercy as well and I feel a tingle, an itch, a yearning in my core. “Kevin, I’m going to come.”

  “Ah, yeah.” He leans up, on his knees. As I watch him—his muscles working, his hair flopping, his grip tightening with his eyes focused on my own—I come.

  Kevin grunts, getting deeper. His body convulses between stills of release, bringing my own climax to reach an epic peak.

  He falls with exhaustion. Flat and crushing. He’s so heavy.

  “Oh fuck, baby,” he mutters. “I’m tired.” Kevin lifts his head to kiss me and gives me a puppy dog look as he rubs my fuzzy head. “Will you cuddle me, tonight? You said you would.”

  My heart is so full. “Yeah, sure.” I bite my lip.

  We maneuver so that I’m behind him. He grabs my hand, yanking on my fingers to wrap my arm around his ribcage. My lips move in to kiss his neck from the back and I notice those fuzzy tiny hairs at the nape, some of which curl, and I love them. I rub my lips across them before I plant one more kiss that makes Kevin moan.

  We hear another moan and the dog plants his head on the edge of the bed to look up at us with a whine.

  “No,” Kevin barks with a point of his finger. “You’re not coming in the bed.”

  The dog whimpers.

  “I said, no,” Kevin growls again.

  The dog howls in a begging tone.

  Kevin lets out an annoyed sigh before he pats the bed in front of him. “Fine. Come here.” In less than two shakes of a dog’s tail, Kevin is pressed against me, the dog is curled against Kevin’s front, and we are in another uncomfortable threesome. Kevin lays his arm at his own side. I don’t blame him for not wanting to cuddle the pup. “Lee, what’s your dog’s name?”

  I give Kevin a squeeze and let my head fall to the pillow.

  I’m afraid to tell him.

  “Lee, what’s the name of your dog?” he repeats.

  I swallow. “Honestly, you do not want to know.”

  The bed shakes with the rumble of Kevin’s laugh. “No, you didn’t. Did you miss me that much?”

  “I did,” I smile and we both laugh as I introduce them both. “Kevin meet Kevin.”

  Kevin reaches forward and grabs the dogs paw to shake it. “Nice to meet you, dog, but just so you know and to be perfectly clear, you’re her dog. I did not pick you.”

  I nip Kevin on the shoulder. “But you love him already, don’t you?”

  “Mmm,” Kevin grunts, nuzzling his head into the pillow and closing his eyes. “I do.”

  24

  Kevin

  Ten months later...

  I stop to smell the flowers.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Masters.” A woman in a short, lime-green dress chuckles. “Those are fake. They are just for display.”

  “I knew that.” I grimace.

  “And here we go,” sings another woman, also in a green dress but in a slightly darker shade, coming out from behind the corner. Both women blend well into the magnolia printed wallpaper of the bridal boutique. I see the woman coming forward has a few dresses. Four white dresses and a fifth in off-white.

  “You can put the off-white dress back,” I instruct.

  “Well, we don’t have a lot to choose from,” says Melanie, the employee who is helping me. She hangs the dresses on a rack. “The size specifications you’ve given me are quite accurate, but I feel the need to inform you, again, that most women—”

  “No, all brides,” interrupts the other employee.

  “Yes, all brides,” repeats Melanie, “are present when their wedding gown is being chosen. It would be in your fiancé’s best interest to try the dress on before making a purchase. Once any alterations are made, we cannot refund your money.”

  “I’m an expert in women’s sizing,” I say firmly. “If these dresses fit my specifications—women’s size six with a 30-inch bust, 26-inch waist, 36-inch hip, length to fit five-foot, nine-inch height, including 2-inch heels, then we shouldn’t have any problems.”

  “And price?”

  “I understand the average spent on a gown is fifteen hundred. So, nothing over two thousand dollars.”

  “Unless the dress is exceptional,” interrupts Lee’s father. “Then, I’d be willing to chip in.”

  “Ah, gentlemen.” Melanie smiles widely with a nod. Stars twinkle in her eyes. “Perhaps we should’ve discussed price first. I have just the dress for you.” Melanie disappears behind the corner and returns shortly with a snow-white dress that has a few sparkles at the waist. “This dress is a Marcella satin, A-line gown with thin shoulder straps,” she flips the gown over, “plus, a crystal-beaded sheer back embellished by hand that extends across the front waistline.”

  I hear Lee’s father, “Oooh.”

  Melanie flips the dress again to show the front once more and she waves her hand down the front to demonstrate. “This plunging V-neckline, which extends one and a half inches below the sternum, is a perfect for a small bust and petite frame.”

  The simplicity of the dress mixed with delicate details against the white—like a mildly embellished white canvas—makes my imagination run wild. I can certainly imagine Lee and how she would look in that dress. I can also imagine what she’s going to look like as I tear it off her. “How much?”

  “Six thousand.”

  Hmm, maybe I won’t tear it.

  Melanie hangs the dress on a hook up against the wall and fluffs the bottom, spreading it open.

  I can’t wait to see Lee walk down the aisle in that dress.

  “I pick that one.” I look at Lee’s father.

  “Excellent choice, son.” He nods. “Excellent choice.”

  Lee’s father attempts to pick up the extra cost for the dress, but I don’t allow it. I listen to him lecture me on the way home about how I need to be more frugal with my money. He also doesn’t like the idea that I’m still paying rent for my apartment despite the fact I sleep in his home daily.

  I was able to get my boss to let me work from home, so I only need to make the four-hour travel days to and from work two to three times a week.

  Lee worries about it. Lee worries about everything. Worry is yet another reason I figure I didn’t keep a girlfriend. Chicks always seem to have so much anxiety about random shit. But I like that Lee worries about me. I know she’s not thinking about anyone else but me. I just wish she wouldn’t worry so much about our wedding, which I’m starting to believe might never happen. She won’t set a date. She won’t pick a cake. She won’t talk to any of the venues I’ve picked out.

  I believe it all came down to the dress. She’s afraid to even look at them much less try any of them on.

  She was eager to take my ring though. After ten months, I still catch her eyeballing the one-carat solitaire diamond in a platinum setting that sits on her ring finger.

  It makes me feel good to see her gawking at that rock, but I’m ready to get married. I’m ready to move us out of Lee’s dad’s house so we can get a king size bed and be a family of our own—me, her, and the other Kevin. That dog has gotten so big, somebody almost always ends up sleeping on top of the other because there’s no room.

  Walking into their farmhouse, Lee’s father and I pause to look at each other when we both hear a familiar voice chatting with Lee.

  Ugh. Delaney.

  “What’s up stalker?” she says as I walk in.

  “What’s up two-timer?”

  “Hey, shut up!” Delaney squawks with a wide-eyed blink.

  “Two-timer? What’s that about?” asks Lee.

  “Nothing,” snaps Delaney as Lee’s father strolls in behind me.

  “I don’t understand how my boyfriend and my BFF share secrets between them,” Lee scoffs. “And neither of you will spill on any of the
details.”

  That’s because Delaney was experimenting in a threesome in the days that Lee was in my apartment and Delaney needed advice, which I gave her over the phone. Of course, I tell Lee everything, but I’m not sharing that. I don’t want Lee getting any ideas. She seemed too curious during those threesome inquiries.

  Lee’s mine and mine alone.

  As the girls continue to chat, Lee’s father and I unload the groceries from the Jeep, which was a cover to give us time to shop. I carry the fifty-pound bag of dog food into the house and Kevin is at my feet with a wag of his tail.

  Opening and then emptying a few morsels of kibble into his bowl, I bend down behind the kitchen island to finish pouring the rest of the dog food into a large plastic bin we use to keep Kevin’s food sealed from country critters and I tighten the lid.

  When I stand up, Lee has the large green box that holds her wedding dress open on the counter. “What this?” she asks, flicking the tissue paper so the dress is fully exposed.

  Damn! How’d the dress make it in here? How’d she get to it?