by Kyra Fox
“You were an accidental pregnancy?” She places her hand on my arm in a tender gesture, beckoning me to open up to her, and I nod. “And your dad, he didn’t want a child?” Her thumb is stroking my skin, and I shake my head. “Is that why he left?”
All I can do to stop myself from telling her how far off mark she guessed is avert my eyes.
“Mac…” Zoe lets out a sigh before going on her tiptoes to plant a soft kiss on my lips. “You can talk to me, I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”
“I know.” But in my head, all I can think is that she can’t uphold that promise, not really. No one ever does.
“We’re still on for tonight, right? 7:30 pm?”
I feel sick to my stomach for making her think I would ditch her because of a stupid condom malfunction.
“Of course, we’re still on, Zo.” I cup her cheeks and close my eyes with a self-reprimanding sigh. “Jesus, I’m such an ass. I’m so sorry.”
“Okay, then.” She runs her fingers through my wet hair and tugs me down for another tender kiss. “Apology accepted. Now, no more wallowing!”
I laugh. “So bossy, my little goddess is.”
“You know it.” She gives me a slap on the ass, which has zero effect through the fluffy towel.
I laugh again, though I can see the pain in her eyes every time I put up a wall, and I summon all my will power to push down the panic that’s trying to claw its way back out from my gut, roaring at me that I’m getting too attached too fast. She’s too good, too caring, and will eventually get sick of me pushing her away every time she tries to get in. But it’s better than the alternative; having her see the broken pieces and leave because I’m not enough for her to want to stay.
Either way, the day will come when she’ll walk away like everybody else does, leaving me to bleed my heart out on the cold floor of my apartment.
But I don’t want to wallow in that today. Today I just want to keep feeling the way I do when Zoe looks at me with her laughing eyes, lighting up every corner inside of me and making me feel like I can breathe for the first time in twenty-seven years.
Chapter Nine
MAC
I know the way from Zoe’s place to mine so well I don’t need to concentrate on the direction I’m driving, so instead I let my mind wander to my mini-meltdown earlier and the strange way Zoe had looked at me when I overreacted. Replaying it all in my mind, an overwhelming need to talk to someone who would understand comes over me.
The phone rings twice before Philip answers, his cheerful voice filling the car through the Bluetooth speaker.
“If it isn’t my favorite brother!” I smile and roll my eyes.
“Hey, Phil. How’s Cali treating you?” I can hear him typing on his computer in the background.
“God, Eric, you’d love it here.” Philip sighs in content. He’s the only other person, other than our mom, close enough for me to let them call me by my first name.
“I bet I would.” I smile ruefully, though California means no Zoe, which means I would probably hate every second of it. The thought just pops into my head out of nowhere, alarming me but also reminding me of the real reason I called Philip.
“So, to what do I owe this spontaneous call?” Philip asks as if reading my mind.
“I need some perspective,” I say, choosing my words carefully. “About a girl.”
“Calling your little brother for advice about girls?” Philip lets out a low whistle. “Must be one hell of a girl.”
“Yeah.” I know Philip said that last part to take a jab at me. There hasn’t been anybody worth mentioning or discussing in my life since high school, so the admission takes him by surprise.
“Wait. Seriously?” I can hear him jump up from his desk. “How long?”
“Three weeks.” It feels like longer—like Zoe had been in my life for years.
Philip lets out a low whistle again.
“Eric.” I can hear the wheels whirling in my brother’s head, trying to decide which question to ask first. “Do you need help to get rid of her or to make her stay?”
I laugh at the simplicity of the question. What I had expected of a nineteen-year-old, I don’t know, but Philip is the only one who could possibly understand why I reacted the way I did, maybe make me feel less like shit.
“I guess more the latter, though I don’t really think she’s going anywhere yet.”
Yet. Talk about a Freudian slip. I think about it all the time: when will the other shoe drop and Zoe becomes another name on a long list of people that left me behind. But I don’t want to voice that fear to anyone, definitely not to Philip. Though he doesn’t seem to notice how loaded that three-letter word is for me.
“Okay, that’s good.” Philip is still a bit hesitant. “Care to share her name?”
“Zoe.” The mention of her name alone makes me smile.
“Damn.” Philip chuckles. “Just the way you say her name, bro, you’re in deep, aren’t you?” I don’t answer, and after a couple of beats, Philip realizes I’m not going to.
“Right, so what did you need my perspective on?” He can’t keep the petulant annoyance out of his voice.
“Something happened today.” I feel the sickening feeling creep up on me again. “The condom broke.”
“Oh.” I can hear the shift in Philip’s tone.
“And I freaked out, big time.” I wince at my own words. “She told me she was on the pill and I didn’t believe her. I mean, I did, but I sort of got caught up in freaking out, and she had to show me her actual box of pills.”
“Wow.” Philip exhales. “That’s messed up, man.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“I mean, I get why you freaked out,” Philip offers. “I would have probably freaked out too, but if you really want her to stick around, you have to trust her.”
“I trust her.” I’m not lying, I really do trust Zoe. I’m just jaded when it comes to certain things.
“Well she doesn’t know that right now, does she.” I groan in frustration at how unhelpful Philp is being. “You have to show her that you trust her.”
“And how do I do that, oh wise one?” I’m being defensive, I know it, and so does Philip who lets out another exasperated sigh.
“I don’t know, Eric,” he half snaps. “It’s your relationship, she’s your girl. Tell her the truth about why you freaked out or do something that proves to her you trust her despite what she’s thinking right now. Whatever constitutes leaving your comfort zone.”
“You should be a psych major, Phil, you’re wasted in law,” I tease, hearing the roll of his eyes through the receiver.
“Shut up,” Philip grumbles, but he sounds less pissed off. “And you’re welcome.”
“Thanks, little brother.” We hang up, and I mull over Philip’s advice.
Telling Zoe the truth is out of the question at this point. The little I’ve already revealed was more than I was ready for and delving deeper is too far out of my comfort zone, so I’ll have to go with a grand gesture. By the time I reach my apartment, I know what I have to do.
Chapter Ten
ZOE
It’s 7:35 pm, and I’m sitting at my dining table waiting for Mac to pick me up. He had sent me a text earlier saying to wear something comfortable and warm, so I opt for fleece-lined yoga pants and a chunky-knit turtleneck sweater with a pair of Doc Martens.
I wonder if we’re going to talk about what happened, about Mac’s little freakout around the broken condom. I understand there’s a reason he reacted so strongly, deeper than what he told me and one that had nothing to do with me. But it still stung that he hadn’t trusted my word.
Ten minutes later, a knock on my door startles me out of my musings. Mac gives me a warm smile when I answer, looking so handsome in his Timberlands, form-fitting jeans and evergreen sweater which makes his green eyes look even more piercing than usual. And, of course, his brown leather jacket. He hands me a bouquet of purple, pink, and white flowers.
“Thank y
ou.” I feel a blush creep up my cheeks and Mac’s gaze drifts over the trail of heat down to my chest, causing me to blush even deeper. “I’ll go put these in water.”
I take my time snipping the stems and arranging the flowers—roses, lilies, prairie gentian, and sweet peas, in a vase. The fragrance coming from the arrangement is sweet, almost intoxicating.
“I like how happy it makes you when I get you flowers.” Mac stands behind me, barely touching my back with his chest. “Seeing you glow like that is the best part of my day.” I’m starting to feel lightheaded from more than just the flowers, I spin around and grab the lapels of his jacket, pulling him into a kiss.
His arms circle my waist, pulling me closer for a short minute before removing his lips from mine.
“We should get going.” He rubs the stubble of his chin over my neck, and I wonder if he’s just teasing me about leaving because he’s engaging in some very successful foreplay at the moment. “We have a bit of a drive.”
I nod in resignation and reluctantly let go of him. Mac takes my hand in his and picks up my tote, leading me to his truck outside. In the back, there are a few bags and a cooler.
“We’re having a picnic.” I realize with glee.
“Yeah.” Mac smiles at my enthusiasm. “We’re going to miss pool night, though. I texted Brian so he’d know we’re not coming. He said to have fun and that he’d sink a few in the hole for us.”
My smile broadens. I’m touched that Mac not only put together a picnic and is taking me on a romantic getaway for the night, but that he had also thought of Brian in the process.
We drive in silence for a while, making our way down Washington Boulevard, until we reach a wooded area I’m not entirely familiar with.
Mac takes a few turns until we reach a dirt path between the trees. I wouldn’t have noticed it on a second glance, but Mac seems to know exactly where to drive. We finally stop at a clearing sitting on the bank of a small stream and Mac parks the truck, so the open cargo area is facing the water.
“It’s beautiful here.” I take a deep breath of the fresh, crisp air and listen to the silence. Aside from the sounds of nature, nothing interrupts it, no cars or electric wires, just crickets, the rustling of leaves in the autumn breeze, and the gentle lapping of the water from the stream.
“It is.” Mac takes an equally deep breath, closing his eyes as the fresh air fills his lungs. “It’s been a while since I’ve come here, I forgot how peaceful it is.”
“You used to come here often?” I’m hopeful he’s finally going to open up to me, let me in.
“My mom used to take Phil and me to picnics here when we were kids.” I notice a ghost of a smile play on his lips at the memory, yet there’s something bittersweet every time he casually mentions her as if even the best of memories are somehow tainted. “Sometimes we’d camp out.”
“Must have been fun, those family getaways.” I try to sound casual, but I know the brick wall is just around the corner, and I wonder how much he’ll be willing to reveal this time.
“Most of the time they were, especially when Phil got older.” His eyes drift shut as he inhales the chilly air through his nose and releases it slowly through his mouth.
“How old were you guys when she’d bring you here?”
“Not old enough.” Mac drops his hands to his side. The calm seems to have vanished from his body as his shoulders tense, and he turns to the truck.
“You don’t talk about her much.” All he had told me in the three weeks we’ve been dating is that she had raised them alone, and then that slip this morning. And as much as I try to avoid it my mind fills in the blanks on its own, the sadness in his voice every time a detail of his childhood surfaces or all the things he’s had to do to help his family, but most of all how he always speaks of her in the past tense.
Mac stares at me for a few seconds before jumping up onto the cargo bed. “We should eat.”
I feel a pang of disappointment. On the one hand, he brought me to this place from his childhood, a place that holds great significance to him, but on the other, he changes the subject the second I try to delve deeper into his past.
“I don’t like talking about her.” He’s in the back of his truck spreading a thick blanket for us to sit on. His face seems tired all of a sudden, like the heaviness of the memories is starting to weigh him down.
“Okay.” I climb up and sit on the blanket opposite him, accepting a beer and taking a sip. It’s more than he’s admitted to me before and that’s also something. “I’m here to listen when you want to talk.”
“I told Philip about you today.” He’s changing the subject again, but I recognize that it’s just as important to him as talking about his mother. His brother is the only family he has, so sharing our relationship with him is a big deal.
“All bad things I hope.” I smirk and take another sip from my beer as Mac shoots me a dirty, but amused glare.
“I wish he were closer, so you guys could meet.” I feel my heart do a little leap, and I caress Mac’s jaw with my thumb.
“We could always go visit him if you’d like.” He leans his cheek into my palm and then kisses it softly, the intimacy of the act making my heart leap again.
“Yeah, I’d like that.” He starts unloading the cooler contents onto the blanket. I stop him by placing my hand on his arm.
“I’m not hungry yet.” Mac carefully places the containers he had pulled out back in the cooler and closes the lid. I set my beer aside and lean over, grazing my lips against his. “All those things you said you’d do to me? I want that.”
Mac groans from somewhere deep in his chest, and it vibrates through my entire body all the way down to my core. He pulls me onto his lap, pressing our bodies closer together. Though he doesn’t kiss me fiercely, rather he keeps massaging my lips with his with tantalizing tenderness until I grow impatient and prod his lips with my tongue. He lets me in, and I sigh, the faint taste of beer mixing with his distinctive flavor.
I can feel his erection through my pants, and I rub myself against it, causing Mac to break the kiss with a grunt and attack my neck. My movements become more urgent, but he’s still moving too slow for the burning fire rapidly building up in my body.
“Mac, please, I need you.”
“You have me, Goddess, all of me.” He takes my lips again, with more insistence this time, plunging his tongue deep into my mouth as he pushes my sweater up, undressing my top half before laying me down on the blanket.
My nipples are pebbled from the cold, and I rub my thighs together in anticipation for when Mac will have his warm mouth on them. He sets aside his jacket, sweater, and undershirt, his chest bare for my eyes and hands to roam freely. I scrape my fingernails over his tanned skin. His toned pecks and chiseled abs feel warm as they pulse under my fingers. He kneels above me, letting me explore while he undoes the laces of my Doc Martens.
“Your body is amazing,” I whisper in admiration, and he grins at the compliment, finally managing to remove both my boots and hooks his fingers into the waistband of my yoga pants.
“Up,” he commands, and I lift my butt so he can pull down my pants and underwear together, shivering when my hot wet pussy meets the cold night air. Mac makes quick work of getting himself undressed and is kissing me again, his large warm body covering mine, shielding me from the cold.
He leans on his forearm and starts tracing my forehead with the thumb of his other hand, caressing my cheek with the most intimate of touches, causing me to let out a trembling breath.
“It was your eyes,” he suddenly says, “that made me come sit in the front row that day. They always seem to be shining with joy. I couldn’t help but stay and wait for you, I had to talk to you, get to know you.”
“That’s sweet, Mac.” I run my hand through his black mane. I love feeling his hair between my fingers, seeing the contrast between my porcelain skin to his shocking black locks is fascinatingly erotic.
He’s running his thumb over my lips no
w.
“And the rosy color of your lips. I wanted to kiss you before I knew your name.” My lips part with a soft sigh, our gaze still locked, a storm passing between us as Mac continues tracing down my neck. “When you blushed that day, that adorable pink color spreading over your beautiful neck up to your cheeks, I promised myself I’d make you blush when I had you naked, so I could see how far down that mouthwatering pink spread.”
“Mac…” He chuckles softly as heat spreads from my chest all the way up to my cheeks. Mac trails down the path of the blush with his palm.
“And these.” His large hand covers my breast perfectly, and he strokes its side with his thumb, causing me to moan. “I couldn’t have imagined your tits more flawless.” He starts kissing down my jaw and neck.
“They feel so soft and fit so perfectly in my hands, my little goddess, and your nipples…” He finally flicks his tongue over my taut peak. “The exact same rosy color of your lips, it’s so fucking perfect it drives me crazy. God, Zoe, you drive me crazy.”
He takes the entire bud in his warm mouth and lightly sucks on it. I arch my back, trying to get him closer, but he lifts his head, and the cold air causes my nipple to go impossibly hard.
His hand keeps traveling south on my body, while his mouth stays on my breasts, alternating between taunting my nipples to kissing and licking my skin. I’m panting, writhing underneath him impatiently.
“Mac, please.” My body is aching with need for him, I try to rub myself against him, but he holds my hips firmly in place.
“Patience, my little sex goddess.” He sprinkles kisses over my stomach, following the trail of his hand with his mouth.
“I love it when you call me that.” I don’t doubt that nickname anymore, he makes me feel like a goddess when we’re together, rubbing our skin against one another, our bodies tangled in each other.
“You already know what I think about your ass.” He gives it a playful slap, and I giggle despite myself. “But this is my favorite part.”
I mewl as his fingers finally touch my aching center. By then I’m already so hot and wet I’ll probably come in ten seconds flat.