The History in Us

by L. B. Dunbar

  “Where do you want to start?”

  “I guess I should start at the beginning.” We both watched his screen. Then he typed.

  I met a girl who wasn’t for me. She was everything I thought I wanted and nothing that I needed. Then she got pregnant. I asked her to marry me because it seemed the right thing to do. She left me.

  I stared at the words. Somehow, I sensed Levi’s story didn’t start or end with such abrupt finality. I read the lines again.

  “How long has it been?”

  “Sixty-three days.” He shrugged. Sixty three days? That was like two months. Oh my God, he’d kissed me roughly within those mere months after she’d left. He wasn’t only drunk, he was…he was…I don’t even know what. I swallowed back the lump in my throat and phrased the only question that came to me.

  “How did that make you feel?” He turned to me and burst out laughing. The frozen smile returned; his teeth too bright, his jaw tight.

  “Like shit.” He huffed like Nate only in a more manly-upset-sarcastic tone versus Nate’s I’m-not-getting-my-way puff of air.

  “I’m sorry,” I offered.

  “Don’t. Don’t be sorry. This is my life—shit.” Startled by his words, I sat back in my chair, crossing my arms and staring at him.

  “Why would you say such a thing?”

  He shifted further in his seat, his body positioned to face mine

  “I know nothing about being a father. I proposed to my friend-with-benefits and she left me with a kid. He’s crying all the time. I have no idea if he can hear me. I can’t secure daycare and I live off a…I have means, but I need to start thinking about a job and I don’t know what I want to do.”

  “For starters, you just said you got a sitter.”

  “For tonight.” He snorted.

  “Why?”

  “Because I wanted to see you.” My breath hitched as my heart sprinted and a tingly sensation raced between my thighs.

  “But you’re involved.” Logic dropped the hammer and all pulsing areas halted. He waved a hand dramatically at the computer. “I just told you, she left me.”

  I shook my head. “That doesn’t mean it’s over.”

  “What does leaving typically mean?” he snapped. I didn’t have a direct answer. When my mother left my father, she never looked back, but then he met Emily, and when she left, she returned for him. And me. A few months wasn’t enough time to sever a relationship, and the fact he knew the exact number of days proved he wasn’t over the mother of his child.

  “She could come back,” I offered, but my voice lowered with the thought. Our eyes locked for a second, and the strangest feeling encapsulated me, pulling me to Levi by an invisible string. My hands gripped the sides of my chair, but I sensed my body leaning toward him.

  “I don’t want her to.” His voice lowered, calling out to me with different words. His presence filled my space, my head, my heart. How could we be leaning into one another when we were discussing his ex-lover, the mother of his child?

  “I don’t think this is a good idea,” I whispered, inhaling the masculine clean scent of him.

  “That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Levi exhaled, his breath brushing over my lips. “I’m not a good idea. You should stay away. That’s my hint.” His tone was seductive, but the words were a dose of reality.

  My brow pinched, and I sat back abruptly, not realizing how much distance we had closed between us. My thoughts fluttered back to when I was seventeen and bold and stepped into his space to kiss him. But an older, wiser me didn’t think I should draw near the Levi Walker before me. I didn’t think there was the remotest possibility of getting close to this new Levi. His words interrupted my thoughts.

  “But then you look at me all innocent and sweet, and you have no idea the things I want to do to you. And I can’t help thinking I don’t want you to stay away.” I inhaled sharply as my thighs clenched and the awakening of an area long repressed sprang to life with a heavy beat. For a man not in touch with his emotions, he didn’t stop there.

  “I shouldn’t want you. Everything I touch turns to ash. Touch.” He grabbed my hand and roughly linked his fingers with mine. “Everything I touch, not feel. My feelings...pfft…” He sat back in his seat, releasing my hand and facing his open laptop. “I’ve trained myself not to feel.” His voice lowered at the statement.

  My blood instantly turned cold, and I shivered at his tone. My tongue was too heavy to respond. He’d made his point. I shouldn’t be attracted to such a complicated man, anyway. I was too simple for him. There was nothing I had that could help him. I reached for my bag, hitching it up over my shoulder and stood for the door. He stood abruptly as well. I stepped left to round the table, but he countered me, circling the table in the opposite direction before blocking my exit from the enclosed space. Reaching for my shoulders, he spun me so we hid behind the door, just out of sight of the side window to the library.

  “But I felt something the other night. With that kiss. And I want to feel it again, even though you’re too good for me.” His mouth firm, a hand slipped upward to caress my neck. His thumb rolled over the warm skin of my throat and locked under my chin. With no smile intact, his eyes danced instead. A pulse leapt through my body, threatening to beat loudly enough for him to hear. My thighs clenched again, and I let my bag strap slip from my shoulder.

  “I’m not going to apologize, Katie. That kiss is more than I’ve felt in a year. It shouldn’t have happened the way it did, but I won’t ask forgiveness for taking it.”

  I swallowed at his words. I didn’t want his apology and I wouldn’t forgive him. He took nothing from me that I didn’t give willingly once he pressed against me. I might have given him more, but he was unobtainable. I could see it in his cold glare. His set jaw. It was his warning smile. The devilish clench that said stay back. I recognized the movement. My father had worn it well when I was a child.

  We stared at one another for a moment, eyes dancing with one another as our breaths hitched. The slightest scrape of my breasts against his chest set my nipples to pebble, and I envisioned his hands on more than my neck. His lips on more than my mouth. But the thought only lasted a beat before he released me and his head came forward to rest on mine. I closed my eyes and inhaled his scent—manly, warm, tortured.

  “I remember you,” he whispered.

  My eyes flung open, but he stood too close. I couldn’t focus on any one feature, so I let them drift to where his body pressed against mine. That was a mistake as the thought of him joining me set my belly to flutters, and the rhythm between my thighs increased its drumming.

  “You still waiting for a hero?”

  “Yes.” I exhaled breathily.

  “Well, I ain’t one.” He pulled back only a hair’s breadth and held my eyes. “I’ve never saved anyone.” His tone turned bitter.

  “I don’t need a hero for saving.” My voice choked on the words, coming out small and hushed. “I can stand on my own.” There was determination behind the truth, but my tone weakly mocked me.

  “You still want one, though, and it can’t be me.”

  “You know nothing about me,” I snipped, the sound of my voice still quiet despite my growing irritation.

  “You’re right. I don’t. And I shouldn’t want to. I’ve got too much going on, and I shouldn’t be thinking of you.”

  “Then don’t,” I barked, sensing him dismissing me. My hands pressed on his chest.

  “But I can’t help myself. That kiss, Katie. All I want is...” His mouth crushed mine, his fingers weaving into my hair. It was a kiss different from all the others. No longer a drunken experiment. Not a test of my will, either. This was something more than I could describe. He drank me in like he thirsted for me, tipping my head so his mouth covered mine and he possessed me. His hips pressed forward, pinning me to the wall at my back. His hands delved so deep in my hair, he cupped the back of my neck. And his mouth, his mouth took such liberty in separating my lips with his tongue, inviti
ng himself inside to play, coaxing me to give in to him. My hands gripped his biceps, feeling the bulge of his strength through his shirt while my lower abdomen recognized the hard length of him elsewhere. My hips bucked forward for a friction I craved, and my mouth responded in kind to his encouragements. I tangled his tongue with mine, hoping to draw him into me.

  A harsh knock on the wood at my side made us both jump.

  “Are you almost finished in there?” An angry librarian’s voice streamed through the thick door. Our heavy breathing masked any attempt to respond, but I watched Levi swallow as he gathered his words.

  “I’m done.” His eyes didn’t leave mine when he spoke, and I sensed he meant more than the use of the room.

  Levi

  As if the class wasn’t torture enough, a few weeks into the selection, Wayne assigned us a field trip. A night at the museum, he chuckled, but he meant it. We would be spending the evening at the Museum of Science and Industry, a rare opportunity for small groups wishing to experience the iconic museum in a less traditional manner. I cursed Professor Erickson for the assignment, informing him of my concerns for AJ, without mentioning again, that I was a single parent to my child. I couldn’t bring an infant to the museum, so I had to beg Mrs. Hubbard for an overnight babysitting gig. Her daughter, Maggie, would be allowed to spend the night, with Mrs. Hubbard as back-up, one floor below. I was sick with the situation, but I didn’t know what else to do. Besides, Katie was attending, and although we hadn’t spoken to each other, other than in class, the thought of her spending the night in a dark museum with horny guys from our class upset me. I hadn’t missed Nate’s growing attention to her.

  I didn’t want to play these foolish games, reminiscent of high school, like worrying about other boys asking her out or taking advantage of her. The thought had never crossed my mind when I went off to the Army. It was the natural course for her to date in my absence, and honestly, I had no ties to her or she to me. With other things on my mind, I hadn’t imagined these things one way or another. But in the dark recesses of my brain, Katie Carter haunted me, and I refused to think of her with other men.

  Will you be a hero?

  Somehow, I wanted to be one for her, if for no other reason than she had asked me if I would be. But I had failed, failed miserably. I had days where I didn’t give it a thought. I didn’t try to remember what happened, and other days where the darkness knocked me on my ass. One such day was coming soon, and I couldn’t let it pass without fully being immersed in memory. Before that day arrived, I decided to take this night as a free pass on life, allowing myself a break from AJ and catching some time with Katie. I owed her an apology, or an explanation at the very least.

  Talking intermittently in class wasn’t enough to discuss our project, and weeks into the semester, we still hadn’t decided on a topic. She wanted something historically romantic, although she blushed when she told me, referencing some novel about love at the World’s Columbian Exhibition, otherwise known as the Chicago World’s Fair of 1893. I wanted something traditional and militant, like the trail of Chief Milwaukee and the trading route from Chicago to Wisconsin. It wasn’t only a matter of eventual compromise, which we still had not reached, but after initial discussions, we didn’t know where to go next, so the science museum was intended to spark our interest.

  “Can you imagine how romantic it was?” Katie blurted as we stood at the southern end of the museum. “Outside that balcony was a giant waterway, used to transport people to and from buildings within the White City. The gondolas. The candlelight. The sound of chatter as people promenaded around the waterway. It sounds…heavenly.” Her heavy sigh following the word, forced me to bite my cheek. Her head was most definitely in the clouds, and yet the glazed look in her eyes did something to me. I wanted to capture that innocence, that dreaminess, and I wished I had my camera. Yet, I knew no photograph would capture what Katie Carter did to me. My heart pinched and I rubbed at my chest as she stared out into the darkness, imagining a city over a hundred and fifty years ago.

  I teased her for her romantic notions, but her gaze reminded me of something. When I couldn’t sleep at night, and the nightmares haunted me, I turned on the TV. I wasn’t much of a period man, but this movie was about the Civil War. A solider was going off to fight, and a girl had come to his room located over a saloon. She seemed innocent and uncertain, but determined. Knocking at his door, he answered quickly, startled to find her standing on the landing. He wasn’t dressed properly and the heat between them was instantaneous. She wanted to know if he’d carry her image into war. It was a sign of romantic interest. He took the “tin imprint” and closed the door. Confused, the actress stepped back, but almost as abruptly the door opened again. Dressed properly, the soon-to-be soldier went for her, kissing her with all he had. They dropped to their knees in passion, knowing they only had a few minutes before he’d be called away. That kiss would be a better memory. He’d carry it in his heart, closer than the image pressed to his chest in a pocket. The kiss would live inside him, fueling his desire to live. As I stared at Katie, the memory of our first kiss was so real, it choked me. The passion of that embrace from the movie turned to reality in the kiss Katie gave me all those years ago. I’d carried her image in my heart sealed with that kiss, and I wanted to find a way to capture it again, snap a permanent photograph and frame it with the confusion of emotions whenever I thought of her.

  After wandering in the dark, using flashlights through the exhibits like children scavenging in the woods, we finally settled in the area assigned our group. Air mattresses were allowed and a few of the pampered students, like that putz Nate, brought one. Katie, I noticed, only had a sleeping bag, like me. I should have been used to sleeping on the ground in strange places, but something about the museum spooked me. I searched for Katie and found her pressed against a wall reading off a tablet. Her knees raised, the e-reader reflected on her face in the dull, dimness of the western balcony hall where we’d been assigned to sleep. Dragging my sleeping bag next to hers, I sat against the wall, my legs outstretched, my shoulder resting against hers.

  “Whatcha reading?”

  “Oh, you know, one of those silly romances you tease me about.” She didn’t look up from the screen, highlighting the blue in her eyes and whitening her skin. She looked angelic with the heavy darkness around her face, and I wished to capture her features again. At one point, she told me that Anne suggested the history course because she liked historical fiction—romantic historical fiction, Medieval things. Anne thought she’d get writing inspiration out of the class. I didn’t see how historical romance literature coincided, but I didn’t ask.

  “I didn’t call them silly,” I chuckled.

  “Oh, right. I remember, your words were, and I quote, we are not doing a project that involves some ridiculous romance bullshit.” She still didn’t look up at me but her tone teased.

  “Let me see this.” I pulled the reading device out of her hand and began to read. Her hands followed, struggling to retain the e-reader.

  “Oh my…no, Levi…give it back to me.” She gently tugged on the tablet, attempting to remove it from my grasp, but I began to read aloud:

  Her hands danced through my thick hair, as she giggled, and then moaned. It was a silly combination of laughter and passion. Finally, I shimmied her jeans to her knees, forcing them to bend and expose her to me.

  “Levi, please.” Between the words I read, and her begging tone, the sound of her whimpering set my dick to life, springing tight inside my jeans. “Give it to me,” she said, and I imagined her breathless tone whispering those words under me.

  “What the…” I choked with the roughness of her voice, and the double meaning, but softened my own voice to continue. It came out raspy and unfamiliar.

  “You aren’t going to…” Her voice faded off as I ran a finger through wet folds.

  “Levi,” Katie groaned, but I continued. My imagination flooded with images of Katie begging me to touch her in the
same manner.

  “Aren’t what?” I growled low, reaching for the flask.

  “You wouldn’t dare,” she warned, narrowing her eyes at me. Her hands fisted in my hair and held tight.

  “Wouldn’t dare do what?” I chuckled, knowing what she meant and intending to ignore her. It wasn’t going to hurt her. My eyes shifted to look up the landscape of her body. Her head tilted upward as she glared back at me. I held the bottle precariously over the core of her, tipping it like I intended to pour. Those innocent doe eyes softened to that look of hidden fear, and I collapsed. She wasn’t fighting me. In fact, she was about to let me do anything to her, despite her concern. It was a momentary sensation of trust. She trusted me, and it was strange to witness her giving it to me.

  My eyes met Katie’s in the dim back-light of the device, and my eyebrow rose as her hand stopped tugging on the e-reader. I was completely turned on and shifted uncomfortably to adjust. Her shoulders fell, and I dare say, she turned that sweet shade of pink in the dark. I read on.

  I twisted my head and took a final swig, then put my mouth over her heated entrance, letting the alcohol cascade in combination with her flavor. Her hips bucked at the feeling of warm liquid over sensitive skin, ripe with desire. My attention turned from teasing to devouring her, which I did with full abandon. My thoughts were lost to everything, except the task at hand: bringing her to pleasure. I had no notion of my surroundings, other than her thighs on either side of my cheeks, while I sucked and lapped. Feasting on her, focusing on her…

  “All right, that’s enough,” she muttered, slipping the device from my hands as I forgot my surroundings, submersed in the words. Did she want someone to do that to her? Did she wish someone would pour whiskey over her pussy and lap it up? Did she long to trust someone so implicitly? The thought stiffened me. I rotated to press my shoulder against the wall, facing her directly. Katie closed the protective cover of her reader, shutting out the light from the screen.