If You Still Want Me

by C. E. Kilgore

  "Friends, are we?" I grumble with the bottle pressed to my lips.

  His shoulders droop at that, one hand setting against his hip. "I don't know how else to say it, except I'm sorry. I thought I was saving us trouble by not telling you."

  That don't make a lick a sense ta me. "How? What could'a possibly happened with me knowin' yer..." Then it hits me. Oh. Oh, damn. "So, you were checkin' me out in the showers at the gym last month!"

  His eyes go wide as he takes a step back. Ha! Caught ya.

  My anger falters a bit, because it's kinda funny. I've been attracted to him. He's been attracted to me. We're just a couple 'a stupid guys who couldn't figure it out. Blond bangs fall over my eyes as I shake my head with a little chuckle.

  "Think of all the fun we could'a been havin' this whole time, you stubborn, Spanish mule! I don't think Vickie would 'a minded. In fact, she seems dead set on pushin' the two of us together. Fuck, man, why not just tell me?"

  "Because it's not what I want. I tried explaining it to her, but she wouldn't listen."

  "What ya mean, it aint what you want? I know damn well you've caught me gawkin' at you, not that you can blame me with that tight ass 'a yours. And I don't think them showers is the only time you've eye-fondled me, neither!"

  He's lookin' uneasy now, like a horse that's been stabled too long. His boots are pacing the dirt as one hand runs angrily through his thick, black hair. I wonder if it's not me he doesn't want - but everything that comes with me in the bedroom.

  "Look, buddy," I feel like I'm tryin' to coax a wild horse to nuzzle my hand. Damn, now that I know, I really wanna touch him. "If you prefer vanilla, that's fine. I don't gotta be in leather and Vickie aint gotta crack her whip. We could-"

  "That's not the problem," he stops pacing, his eyes immediately falling to my shorts. A shiver shakes his whole body, an' I don't think it's got anything ta do with the cold.

  "You like it," I grin, setting my beer down. I aint even had a single sip, but I'm drunk on the idea 'a me and him havin' some overdue fun. When I shed my sweater to the ground, I get the answer Austin's eyes can't hide. "Actually, I think you love it."

  Hand fisted around his beer, he reorients his gaze to the side. "You don't understand."

  "Then make me," I tease, takin' a step forward. The arousal naturally shifts me into brat-mode. I've already got ideas racin' through my head, swellin' my dick within the confines of its harness. "C'mon, Austin. Vickie done released me 'till she gets back, and now I know why. You and me - we gotta sort ourselves out."

  "We don't want the same things, Saul, so please-"

  "What? You want me to be the dominant?"

  "No, I-"

  "Okay, so you like a good boy in bed?" I watch his sharp inhale, and I know he does. "That's me to a T. Well, I can be good, but sometimes it takes a firm hand to bring me in line."

  I hear him swallow. Fuck me sideways, he's all for that! The desire's comin' off him in waves, hitting against me and pulling me in closer. Somethin's holdin' him back, though. I gotta find out what it is so I can unwind it.

  Damn, it's like a burnin' itch I have'ta scratch. I can't stand ta' see him so bound up inside. I gotta set this man free.

  "Austin," I touch his chest, looking down at his long eyelashes as he avoids my gaze. "This don't gotta change our friendship, if that's what yer worried about. You an' me - we're thicker than molasses. You know that. Aint nothin' wrong with wantin' something a little bit more."

  His chest rises and falls, tightening the cotton t-shirt against hard pectorals my tongue is desperate to be introduced to. After another deep breath, he responds. "What if I want more than a little?"

  That question confuses me at the same time it's settin' off alarm bells in my head. They go unheeded, because all I can think about right now is kissin' my best friend. Curling my fingers into the cotton, I give his shirt a suggestive tug. "A little, a lot - I'm down for givin' whatever you want a try."

  "Stop, Saul." His free hand clamps into a fist then relaxes. "Please."

  I'm thinkin' he wants the whole brat experience, so I keep on pushin'. "Make me, amigo."

  "Saul..."

  The word comes out on a groan that has my whole body flippin' the fuck out. God damn, I seriously want my best friend ta' fuck me senseless. "Austin," I groan right back, duckin' my head a bit so I can swipe my tongue across his cheek.

  "Fuck!" He's cursin' in Spanish as he drops his beer, grips my chest harness with both hands and lifts me up, slamming me back against the pole.

  Holy mother of... That right there is what I've been wanting. It's something Vickie could never do. She commands her whip and brings me to ecstasy like no other, but Austin's man-handling has my dick so fuckin' hard I think it's about to break the leather holding it back.

  My hands brace on his shoulders as one leg instinctively rides his hip. There's a look in his eyes I aint never seen before, swirling the blue-gray into a tempest that threatens to blow my world apart. I think I want that.

  I think I need that.

  "Fuck, yeah, Aus-" my words end as his lips crash to mine, his tongue forcefully seeking entrance. I accommodate and Austin proceeds to give my mouth a proper fucking, leavin' me gasping for breath and losin' my hold on reality.

  All this time, we could'a had this. All this time, he was right there; laughin, and smiling, and teasin' my heart. All this time, wasted.

  My leg tightens its hold, grinding our groins together. The denim seam covering his zipper rubs along the ribbed, studded leather circling my dick. It has me moanin' an' whimperin' while I'm still tryin' ta catch my breath from the way his tongue is dancin' in my mouth.

  I swear, I'd cum right in my shorts if it weren't for the ring wrapped around the base 'a my cock. His thumb finds a cold-hardened nipple, shootin' me into orbit, and I break away so I can cry out. As I come back down ta' Earth, my head clears enough to really see him.

  He's frozen stiff, his arms flexing in her hold on my chest-harness, and his jaw is tickin' in a way that makes me a right bit nervous. I see demons in his eyes, tryin' to take him away from me. Diggin' my fingers into his shoulders, I try to bring in him back from wherever his mind has gone.

  "Austin? Don't stop, man. You an' me - this is fuckin' incredible."

  "It could be," he growls out, cascading a line 'a goosebumps up my spine. "But it aint what I want."

  "I don't understand," my voice whines, begging for this not to end. "You gotta explain it to me, man! You know how God damn stupid I am!"

  "I don't want to have sex with you, Saul."

  Really? Well, could'a fooled me with the way yer dick is a hard bulge against mine. I think those words, but my lips refuse to move. He's got me locked in place with an expression I can't ignore.

  He's hurt, deep down inside. He's in pain, and I can't figure out why. I'm his best friend, an' I don't know how ta' help him.

  "I don't want to have sex with you," he repeats, hushed and full 'a the same anguish I can see on his face. "I want to make love to you."

  And there it is - the moment his eyes warned of. The tempest done come and blew my sorry ass away, leavin' me fightin' for the right words ta' say. I don't rightly know how I should respond, so I say the only thing that comes ta mind, hopping it's the right answer to keep this thing between us movin' forward.

  "You know I love you, Austin," I whisper it, like it's some secret we're afraid to speak out loud - that me lovin' him is somehow wrong or not deservin' to be shouted from the tallest damn mountain I can find. Fuck that shit. It is.

  "I love you, man," I say it louder this time. "You know that, right? Yer my best friend!"

  For a moment, I think I've said the right thing, but then the pain returns to his eyes. It knifes me in the chest, needling my heart as sharply as I think it's stabbin' his. Why can't I understand?

  "I know, Saul," he sighs, releasing his hold on the harness and taking a step back. "I know you love me, but it's like the way I love Victoria. I care about her, deepl
y, but I don't love her like I love you. It's not the same."

  "I..." I have no idea what ta' say.

  "I'm in love with you, Saul, like the way you love Victoria. You're everything to me, but I know..."

  He pauses to wipe his eyes, and it shreds me into a gazillion tiny pieces. I get it. I finally fuckin' get it.

  "I know," he continues before I can get my voice to cooperate. "You and Victoria got something so damn special; something people search their whole lives for, and something I got no right getting in between. I wish you could look at me that way, but I know you can't. It aint your fault. All you can see is her, and I..."

  His chest heaves, his hand fisting the cotton over his heart. "I'm so damn sorry for it. I'm tired of standing around, wishing for something that aint never gonna happen. I love you both, so damn much, but I hate you, too."

  He takes one step back. "I can't live like this no more."

  Another step away from me. "That's why I'm leavin', Saul."

  Why can't I say anything? Why can't I move? Don't leave me, Austin! Please, don't leave.

  "I'm so sorry," he whispers before walkin' outta the barn.

  It feels more like he just walked right outta my life.

  Victoria

  The cute, shotgun-style parish house's inviting porch has two new wicker rocking chairs - a Christmas gift from the congregation, Joseph explains as we pull into the vacant lot next door. Both lots on either side were abandoned, which is good, because the parking is needed. My daddy's house has become a centralized meeting point for many in the Upper Ninth, and the city leaders don't give him grief over making use of the cleaned-up empty fields where condemned houses once stood.

  He doesn't pretend to own the lots, or the lots around the parish that he's been working to turn into community gardens. The lots are God's Lots, he calls them - borrowed until the land owners return or until God asks for them back with another flood. It's not easy, converting salt-watered land into vegetables, but the idea is catching on. What else could they do but feed themselves when the grocery stores left?

  Trying to explain how much I respect Elijah, my step-father, is like trying to explain how I feel about Saul and Austin. There just don't seem to be the right words in existence to adequately express what's in my heart. It's something so much bigger and greater than love. It's something that makes me smile, every time I think about it.

  "Is that my princess come home?" Elijah calls from the porch, his back slightly stooped and his old face looking more wrinkled than I remember under a scalp of shockingly white curls.

  "Well, it's about time!" Queen Tabitha scoffs as she looks over Daddy's shoulder. "Dinner was ready twenty minutes ago. If you two stopped at Dairy Queen and ruined your appetites, Lord help me! Daddy, get back inside 'fore you catch cold. Jerry!" she calls back inside. "Take the rolls out the oven!"

  Joseph and I share a snicker as I take my suitcase from the trunk. Turning back to the porch, I smile up at Elijah. "Hey, Daddy. I'm sorry for missing Christmas, and-"

  "Girl," he narrows his good eye at me. "You gonna make an old man wait out on this cold porch for his hug all night?"

  "No, sir," my grin sweetens as I hand Joey my suitcase so I can give my daddy the proper hug he deserves. "Missed you."

  His arms wrap around me as tight as he can. "Missed you, too, princess. Don't worry none about Christmas. Joseph done told me your Saul got himself hurt. I just wish... I don't want to judge, but-"

  "We should talk about it," I agree. "There are some things I need to tell you."

  A touch of worry enters his dark brown eyes, but he nods before kissing my cheek. "Of course, princess. Anytime you want to talk, you know my ears is always open."

  "Thanks, Daddy."

  "Y'all still out here yappin'?" Tabitha opens the screen door again with a stern look. "Get up in here 'fore all the heat leaves the house."

  "Yes, ma'am," the three of us reply together before falling into quiet laughter.

  She rolls her eyes in a huff, leaving the doorway with another holler directed inside. "Jerry! You take out them rolls yet?"

  "You weren't kidding about those hormones," I mutter.

  "Told you," Joeseph holds the door open for Daddy, and I follow in after. "Also, whatever you do, don't say nothin' about the cherry pie."

  "What cherry pie?"

  "Exactly," Daddy replies with a chuckle and a wink at Joseph.

  I raise my brow at the two of them but get nothing except innocent-looking grins. The similarities between them are impossible to miss. That cherry pie comment is going to bug me until I figure out what it's all about, and they both know it. A pair of jokers, they are.

  "Joseph, take your sister's bag to her room," Daddy kindly orders as he takes my elbow and starts guiding me towards the dining room.

  Uh-oh.

  "Good luck," Joseph whispers as he passes behind me.

  I think I'm going to need all the luck I can get as I step into the dining room to find all eyes on me, including a pair I don't recognize. That must be Samson. He's a handsome, older man, but their aint no way on God's green Earth that man is a day under fifty. What is my daddy thinking?

  I think my dishonesty has made him desperate.

  "Hey there, girl!" Ruth jumps up from her seat, not giving any time for an awkward silence to settle into the room as Samson stares at me just a little too hard for my liking.

  Ruth and I hug, followed by a quick hug, chaste from her husband, Michael, who has their baby boy in one arm. Jerry hugs me too, with more feeling, but he's always been big in the heart that way. He sets down a basket of rolls onto the table before checking on he and Tabi's baby girl in her highchair. As everyone sits, Tabi waddles in from the kitchen.

  I finally get a good look at her and can't help but bubble over. I'm not one for kids, honestly. Seeing her rounded belly, though, I can appreciate that it's going to be another Harris added to our growing family. She and I are the last to sit, and it's become like a tradition.

  She's the mother hen, but I'm the stubborn one who always pushes that last inch. After putting the butter dish on the table, she looks at me with a silent reprimand for missing Christmas then opens her arms. Tabitha can be hard to swallow sometimes, but we've helped each other through tough times. I don't think it's something either one of us will forget.

  "You look great, Tabi," I say through the hug.

  "Oh, hush. I look like I done swallowed one of the Mardi Gras floats. Shoot, this baby takes much longer, and Jerry can put some flowers in my hair and lease me out to the parade."

  "You find out what it is yet?" I ask as we sit next to each other. It puts me directly across from Samson, but maybe I can avoid talking to him with the way Tabi likes being the center of attention.

  "Is a girl!" Jerry blurts out first with an excited grin. "Gonna have'ta get me two shotguns now to keep them boys offa my porch!"

  "Jerry," Tabitha rolls her eyes.

  "What you need is to get them girls a brother," Michael comments, looking across a bowl of peas.

  "That'll be next," Jerry lifts his chin proudly. "I aint givin' up till my Tabi and I gets us a boy."

  "Sounds like hard work," Joseph snorts into his water glass. "You poor, poor man."

  "Joseph Francis Harris!" Tabitha gasps, pulling out the big guns. All the men around the table freeze and lower their eyes. I think Joey even shudders at the sound of his middle name.

  "Sorry," he mutters, cheeks darkened as the men all attempt to hold in their snickering.

  "A baby is always a blessing from God," Daddy reminds us. "Let us pray on it."

  We join hands and Daddy says a well-spoken grace. I'm no church lady, but I respect his prayer. I don't agree with all of it, but I don't think you have to. I don't think that was ever the real point, and Daddy never tried to force me to see it any other way, even when I stopped going to church on Sundays.

  'Princess, as long as you have a good heart and try to lead a good life - I think God will be happ
y, and I'll be happy, too.'

  Sometimes I miss it - the church and its community. I miss family dinners, too, with Tabi on my left, Joey on my right and Ruth across the way sneaking faces in attempts to make me laugh. I miss having Elijah, the man who lets me call him daddy and earns it every time I say it, at the head of my table and close enough to hug.

  What I don't miss are these damn hook-ups Daddy keeps setting up. Opening my eyes from prayer, I find Samson's unwavering stare back on me. I glance over at Daddy to see that mischievous glint in his eyes that he passed down to Joey.

  Son of a - that old codger is playing games with me, trying to force my hand. As I pass the potatoes, I wonder if I should call his bluff and ask Samson out to a movie. I smile sweetly across the table at Samson with a wink, he smiles back, and Daddy chokes a bit on his lemonade.

  Dinner is filled with discussions about what I've missed, how the community continues to change and grow, and plans for the Spring. Samson, it turns out, it there mostly to discuss a field trip for the choir to go sing and raise funds in Lafayette. Ruth, one of the best sopranos in the choir, is excited about the idea, and keeps dropping hints at me that the choir could use a strong alto.

  It's been so long, I don't think I could carry a tune, much less make a joyful noise with clapping and praising the Lord like they do. Samson also seems keen on the idea and keeps asking when I'm moving down here to live closer to the family. I have to kick Joseph under the table a couple times to stop him from grinning like a damn fool.

  Samson leaves with a promise to stop by before I leave, perhaps even to see about a lunch date, and I kindly smile before glaring at Daddy's chuckling as the poor man drives away. "Daddy-"

  "Don't give me no grief, princess," he says as he settles down into his old, orange-plaid Lazy-boy. "You earned that one for missing Christmas, and if he comes callin', you'll take him to lunch. Good man, Samson - just lonely since his Erma rejoined God's country last year."