by Vesper Young
It was silly and ridiculous and when we eventually had to stop from exhaustion, I fell asleep with a smile on my face. Sometimes being stupid worked really well.
***
I woke up happy. My body was sore in a way it was only after a long night of hot, passionate sex, assuring me it wasn’t a dream. It had been good to be stupid. To have one night to remember what it had been like to be Lucas's and what it had been like to have him be mine. It was a one-time thing, to get it out of our system. Now we could go back to normal.
I rolled over in bed, relieved to see it was empty. Okay, there was a slight pang because I already missed him, but I told myself it was mostly relief. When I had my next shift, we’d continue like usual, and eventually, when the consulting gig finished, I’d be like any other employee again. I’d just had a stupid night of fun. Now I would go back to being responsible. I was a single mom, and that hadn’t changed. Though maybe I’d go back to sleep for a bit. There was nothing major I had to do today so I could give my body time to fully recover.
Until I saw Lucas come back in, a steaming mug in each hand. The aroma of coffee wafted over my way and suddenly I was wide awake.
He sat on the bed and handed me a mug. It was the #1 Mom Ryan had gotten me last Mother’s Day. That was a bucket of ice-cold water on me.
“Why are you still here?” I asked.
Lucas raised a brow at that. It was an incredibly pointed question. I just didn’t know a less rude way to put it. We’d had our crazy night of stupidity, of passion, of closure. Why the heck was he still here?
“Did you expect me to be gone?” he asked. He sounded puzzled.
“Yes,” I said bluntly.
A hurt expression crossed his face. “Why?”
Staring at Lucas made my own chest ache in return, so I forced myself to look around the room. Why, indeed? Why did I need this to end when everything in my screamed to grab him and go for round two. (Well, probably closer to round five, but my point stands.) I’d spent so many days wondering about him and nights dreaming about having him in my life again, and even just from the past twelve hours I knew reality didn’t hold a candle to my wildest reveries.
It wasn’t just physical. If it was just Lucas's undeniably hot body, that would’ve been one thing. The man was sculpted perfectly, broad shoulders narrowing to slender hips, then flaring to his muscled thighs that had to easily pinned me in place. But it wasn’t. It was how he smiled and laughed, the intense focus when he worked on the project, the way he’d loved me.
It was utterly addictive and I was relapsing.
I’d said no once. How many times can an alcoholic turn down free booze?
“Kara, what’s holding you back?” He’d moved closer. He was still shirtless, and when he leaned in I hated how instinctively I inhaled his fresh, clean scent. My body was doing a crap job of listening to my mind.
Ryan. Ryan, Ryan, Ryan.
Ryan was everything.
Ryan wouldn’t be back until I picked him up from school on Monday since my parents insisted on getting up ungodly early to take him to school after their weekend.
Ryan wasn’t here.
I finally looked back at Lucas's face and all my resistance crumbled.
“I don’t know anymore,” I told him. At least, not this minute.
“Do you want me to leave?” his voice was soft, gentle, even, in sharp contrast to the intensity reflected in his eyes.
“No,” I admitted. I didn’t even mean to say it. That’s just how it was with Luke. It was impossible for me not to tell him everything. It always had been.
“Do you want me to stay?” he asked. His voice was lighter now.
I ran my bottom lip across my teeth. Finally, I said, “Yes.”
A hand slowly slid up my bare thigh.
“Do you want me to stay with you?”
“Yes.” My voice had gotten a bit raspier.
His hand slid higher.
“Do you want me to stay in this bed with you?”
I nodded.
“What do you want me to do in this bed with you?” he asked.
I told him. Over the next hour, I told him everything I wanted because he was Lucas. And because he was Lucas he listened and he obliged.
11. Lucas
We stayed in bed for a while. My arm was wrapped around Kara’s shoulder, drawing her close. Her hair brushed by my face, her sweet, floral scent coating my senses. Last night, she’d smelled of the sweet things at the bar, like candied cherries. Heady and delectable. Now she was back to her more natural state, equally delectable.
More like making sure she wouldn’t bolt. Then again, this was her place, so where would she go? If this was a fling, then I should be the one getting out of here. Hell, she’d expected me to be gone this morning. I’d seen the shock on her face when I came in, the confusion as to what the fuck I was still doing here.
Like she’d gotten me out of her system and that was it.
Screw that.
We were recovering from the go we’d just had at each other. Once Kara made up her damn mind that she did want me here, she made sure I knew it. Now all I had to do was convince her she wanted me here for a lot longer than a morning.
Why was she fighting against this? Against us? Even within herself, it seemed. If she was feeling a fraction of what I was, she should be begging me not to go. I was a proud man, sure, but when it came to Kara I was also a desperate man. It was like I was drowning and she was air. I couldn’t breathe right and then once she was here, I could inhaling deeply and the world was righted.
Even now, when I should theoretically have been whipped with exhaustion from the night—and morning—we’d had, I was more energized than ever. If I had my laptop and tried to fix up the website, I’d have it put together in record time.
Of course, I wasn’t a complete idiot. I wasn’t going to get out of bed with the woman I loved to go do work. I’d done the whole work over love thing and it had fucking sucked.
Still, the hum of energy running through my body meant I didn’t just want to sit here. The sex was good. Better than good. So much better it wasn’t even on the same scale.
But Kara knew that too, and for whatever reason, that wasn’t enough.
I rolled over slightly to look at her. The tension was gone from her face. Wisps of hair flew in different directions. I loved winding my fingers through that hair. She was looking up at the ceiling, lost in her own thoughts. I would’ve given any amount of money to know what they were. Kara told me a lot of things when we were together, and for a short while, I thought I’d known her better than I knew myself. In our time apart, she’d become a closed book.
That didn’t mean I wasn’t up for a challenge.
“Babe, we should go to the ice rink,” I said.
“Huh?” She eased onto her side to look at me, causing the sheets to fall off and expose her chest. Her breasts had changed from how I remembered. She’d definitely gone up a cup size or so. It sounds like a very guy thing to notice, but I had. I didn’t have a preference, as long as they were part of her. I looked at what the sheet had revealed, of course, but I wouldn’t get distracted from my mission. Those breasts were damn near hypnotic.
“The rink? Why?”
“To go skating.”
She blinked at me as if she couldn’t understand where I’d come up with this crazy idea.
I heaved a dramatic sigh. “We can’t just lay in bed all day. I know you’d rather keep me as your personal sex toy—”
She smacked my chest. “You’re incredible.”
Her fingers remained pressed against my chest, teasing my pecs. The movement seemed almost unconscious, just her body’s natural reaction to our proximity.
I grinned at her. “You seem to think so.”
That earned a blush. Despite the fact we’d spent several hours exploring every inch of each other, something she’d been a very active participant in, a little flirting made her blush.
I was banking on the ef
fect I had on her. Praying that I could make her want me as badly as I wanted her.
Still, she didn’t look convinced. “I don’t know…”
I reached my free hand up to stroke her face. She closed her eyes and leaned into the contact. The gentle move melted me. “What would convince you?” I asked. “If I buy you hot chocolate? Or let you videotape me falling on my ass because I’ve never gone skating? Or maybe more sex?”
She laughed softly, almost despite herself. “Maybe all three. You’ve never gone skating?”
“Nope. Have you?”
“A couple times when I was younger. There was a lake, or more of a pond, we could go to when the weather got cold enough.”
I filed that information away. Even in college, Kara hadn’t spoken much about her family. Just that they put a lot of pressure on her and never seemed to really believe in her. They weren’t abusive or anything, and they’d done fun stuff, but Kara had wanted to rebel a bit. Apparently dating a computer geek counted since I was a senior.
She’d never invited me to meet them, though she had met my parents when they visited one weekend. That had been a sore point, though since we’d only dated for a semester and a half it had seemed too soon to push it. Our relationship shouldn’t have been that intense, but it was. After knowing Kara a month, I’d felt like I’d known her my whole life.
I eased back to sit up. “Alright, enough laying around. Either you get dressed so we can go or I’m gonna dress you, even though it goes against my beliefs.”
That earned a full laugh. “Your beliefs?” she asked.
“My belief you should always be naked, and if you aren’t, that I should be taking your clothes off. And be warned, if I dress you you’re liable to wind up without panties. Maybe braless too.”
Actually, I was liking that idea. I got up and began to walk over to the dresser by the window.
“I’m up, I’m up!” she protested. “Get out and I’ll put my own clothes on.”
I laughed and started scooping my clothes up so I could get dressed too.
“Do I get to vote?” I asked.
She flung something at me which I managed to catch before it hit my face. I looked at my hand. My shirt, apparently.
“Thanks, babe. Maybe you want to dress me too?”
“Out, out!” she demanded. But now she was laughing.
I complied and met Kara in the hall a couple minutes later. She wore a sweater that couldn’t have been that warm considering how tightly it clung to her curves. Her leggings hugged her hips and every inch below and I was seriously questioning if I should be going against my “make Kara naked” policy.
“My eyes are up here,” she joked, though when I glanced at her she was giving me an equally appraising look. Unconsciously she wet her lips as if she was looking at dessert.
“What am I, a piece of meat?” I asked, feigning indignance.
She looked up, eyes wide and innocent. “Of course not. You’re also my ticket to free hot cocoa.”
12. Kara
Lucas was good to his word on all fronts, particularly the fact he had been an atrocious skater. I wasn’t that good, but I could keep my balance, go backwards and forwards, and sometimes glide on one leg. Lucas, on the other hand, had fallen flat on his ass enough times in enough spectacular ways that I’d doubled over laughing. He’d drawn a fair bit of attention, and not just because of our antics. Several women had looked over with blatant envy, and their boyfriends had been blatantly irked by their distraction.
Luke was a good sport about all of it. In fact, I suspected a few of his pratfalls had been for my benefit. After about two hours, he wasn’t half-bad. The next time he went skating I doubted it would take him long to find his balance again.
That thought was immediately followed by one wondering when he’d next go skating. And who’d he’d be going with.
“Uh-oh,” he said.
“Hmm?” I came out of my daze, glancing around. We were in a cute little coffee shop with a seat by the window. It was the type of place you just wanted to curl up in. Random piles of books for customers to peruse, a humble glass case filled with homemade goodies. Lucas had bought us hot chocolate which helped stave off the chill from the day.
“When you scrunch your nose like that, I know I’m in trouble.”
“Trouble? When have you been in trouble with me?” I asked.
“Well, there was that one time I tried to do your laundry.”
I rolled my eyes. “My sweaters came out about three sizes smaller! They had to be washed on cold.”
“See? You were annoyed at me.”
“I remember trying to put one on before class and nearly suffocating,” I said with a snort.
“Right, right. And I had to valiantly rescue you from the sweater.” Lucas tapped his chin. “My taking-your-clothes-off policy was practically life-saving. Plus, your sweater today looks like it was shrink-wrapped around you, but I don’t hear you complaining nowadays. Seems like a double standard.”
I laughed in spite of myself. “You’re ridiculous.”
In fairness, I knew exactly how tightly this sweater hugged my curves. Catching Lucas staring never failed to send a thrill through me. He wasn’t gauche enough to stare; it was more like he couldn’t help it. It made me sit up straighter, just to torture him.
“So, tell me, what irked you now?”
I shrugged. I couldn’t tell him I had been thinking about how much fun I was having and how it got ruined when I thought about him taking another girl skating. The thought really pissed me off for some reason, even though I’d given Lucas up ten years ago.
“What did you think about your first time on skates?” I asked instead. There. Safe. Neutral.
“I think my ass will be sore from today until I’m dead and buried. Maybe longer.”
“I imagine a coffin would make it hard for your butt to recover,” I said seriously.
“Definitely. I’m gonna leave instructions for the mortician to put a pillow under it.”
I laughed aloud at the image. “You got the hang of it at the end.”
“Is that your professional opinion?” he asked.
“Can’t say anyone’s ever mistaken me for a professional skater.”
The subject dropped and we sipped our hot chocolate. It was good cocoa. Warmed me to my bones. I told myself it was the cozy atmosphere that made the conversation flow so easily. Comfortable without being shallow or repetitive. The reality was, it was Lucas. It was always like this. I could never get bored of his humor, and if I wasn’t careful, I wouldn’t be able to give it up when this magical day was done.
“Can I ask you a question?” Lucas suddenly asked.
“Sure,” I said. A hint of nervousness coursed through me. There were so many questions he could ask and so many answers I couldn’t give without unraveling everything.
“Why didn’t you ever finish your degree?”
I looked into my mug. I’d known it was coming eventually.
“My situation changed. With my parents, I mean. I couldn’t afford the tuition and housing and I didn’t want to take out massive loans. I tried for a while to juggle jobs and coursework and… everything. In the end, I had to call it quits.” Despite the fact they’d always promised to pay for college. Apparently, getting pregnant voided that deal.
I looked up at him. It was embarrassing to talk about. I was a drop-out. “But I do plan on finishing my degree one day. I’m hoping in the next year to maybe take a few classes.” I hadn’t even told Mindy that. “I really do enjoy spending time with you. Working on redecorating the bar, that is.” Sometimes I regretted quitting college, even if it had been my only option. My days had once been filled of daydreaming about projects I would take on, building a portfolio, and helping people build spaces they could fall in love with.
There was no judgment on Lucas's face. He processed what I had told him, thinking over his response. “You didn’t quit. You paused. I have every confidence you’ll finish your degr
ee.”
A shy smile crept over my face. It was like he’d lit something warm in me, something I could tuck against my heart. I didn’t quit. I paused. That was a nice way to look at it.
“Why bartending, though?” he continued. “Even without a degree, you’re good at what you do.”
That rankled a bit in contrast to the nice feeling that had been brewing in my chest. “I’m good at what I do now.”
“Of course you are. You’re the best bartender on the roster, and it’s not because the others are bad at their jobs. But you don’t love it. You do it because it’s a job.”
“Not everyone gets to follow their passion, Lucas. Some of us have to work boring, unglamorous jobs.”
He seemed taken a bit aback by my soft response. “I know a job you love isn’t always possible, but I feel like when you like something, you should work in it. I mean, even with the bar, I’m working on the website and computer systems and all of the backend stuff. It didn’t stop just because I stopped working in one part of the tech world.”
I leaned back in my chair. “And what did it cost to get into that tech world in the first place, Lucas? You worked hard, got a great degree. You applied to places like crazy. It’s great that you loved it and had the drive to go for it and that you didn’t have anything holding you back. Some of us got our job by desperately applying after the last dead-end had a round of layoffs and we had to make rent and a nice guy agreed to give a girl with no experience a shot at waitressing.”
“I almost didn’t take it,” he said. “The job.”
“You’d have been stupid not to.” That was an absolute fact, even though my heart skipped a beat at his admission.
“I think taking that job was the stupidest thing I ever did. In a way, you’re right. A job you love isn’t everything because every day for the first month I was tempted to abandon it all and catch a flight back to New York to see you.”