Almost Hitched

by Kylie Gilmore

  “No, thanks.” He’d given up after the second night because she was impossible to talk to. The after-dinner walks were more like thinking tours for her brain. She frequently stopped to write notes on a small notepad from her purse. He could say, “It’s raining penises,” and she’d say, “Yes, very nice.”

  He stood.

  “Are you finished?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Perfect. I’ll clear the two plates together.” She stacked the plates and silverware, dumped them all in the sink, and headed for the door.

  “Have fun,” he said.

  “See ya,” she said absentmindedly and left.

  With a herculean effort, he ignored the dirty dishes that were not on his list of chores, put away the leftover lasagna, and settled on the sofa to watch the Sox pregame. He was secretly glad his boss wanted him back at work full time next week. He couldn’t take another harmonious week at home. He put his feet up on the coffee table and relaxed. The Sox were having a great season so far.

  By the fourth inning, he was less relaxed. Kate had been gone a long time, much longer than her usual half hour, and it was starting to get dark. He worried about her wandering down some dark alley, oblivious to her surroundings. He snagged his cell to check the time. She’d been gone nearly two hours.

  He called her. “Where are you?” he barked as soon as she answered.

  “Almost home,” she said.

  “How far away?”

  The front door opened. The relief at seeing her step through that door was overwhelming. He went to her and hugged her tight. He pulled away just enough to look at her. “Where were you?”

  “I told you I was going for a walk.”

  “You were gone for two hours.”

  She cocked her head. “I was? I didn’t realize. I had a lot of thinking to do.”

  He stroked her cheek. “What’re you thinking so hard about?”

  “I’m confused. I tried to do a self-check because I fear the problem is me, but the results have proven inconclusive.” She bit her lip. “I mean, I’m still confused.”

  He took note of the formal tone, the confusion that probably affected him too, his own uneasy feeling coursing through him, and said the only thing he could say, “Okay, let’s talk.”

  They settled side by side on the sofa. He grabbed the remote, turned down the volume, and turned to her. “What is it?”

  She took off her glasses and cleaned them on the end of her T-shirt. Another tell of hers. She must be pretty worked up. “We’ve spent a lot of time together this week.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  She frowned and slid her glasses back on. “We’ve both done an admirable job at following the relationship rules and the equitable distribution of chores.”

  “So what’s the problem? I thought you liked rules.”

  She wrung her hands together. “I’m confused. We did everything right, yet I’m so restless. Like almost claustrophobic to be in the apartment with you, though I’m sure I still love you. What should I do?”

  He knew exactly what to do. He grabbed the list of rules off the coffee table and ripped it into shreds.

  Kate gasped. “Ian! What’re you doing?”

  “Fuck the rules,” he said.

  “Fuck the rules,” she echoed, her blue eyes lighting with excitement.

  “That’s not us. You’re restless because you like when we fight and yell and make up. You like when I short-circuit you whenever I damn well please. And so do I! All these rules were making me tense.”

  “You mean—” she smoothed her hair “—I’m secretly a rebel?”

  He bit back a smile. “Definitely.”

  She looked thoughtful. While she was distracted, he pulled her hair band out and ran his fingers through the silky strands.

  She turned to him with her excited eureka face. “There must be some kind of endorphin that kicks into my brain when we get worked up about something. You’re such a worthy opponent, you know.”

  “Thanks,” he said, lifting her hair and pressing a kiss to the side of her neck.

  She shivered and kept talking, oblivious to his nefarious plan, too lost in her new discovery. “Like when you throw your dirty sock at the hamper and miss, and you just leave it there, balled up on the floor instead of putting it in. I haven’t said a word about that all week because your job is laundry. So instead I ignored it and that irritation turned into apartment-sharing claustrophobia.”

  He slipped his hands under the back of her T-shirt to undo the bra clasp. “That’s right, Kate. You need to get that stuff out.” The bra sprang open, but she didn’t notice, her eyes unfocused and dreamy. He rubbed her bare back. “Like when I made all those delicious dinners and you didn’t say one word of appreciation until I asked you. That stuff makes a person tense.”

  “You mean you were tense while I was bored and restless,” she said, focusing on him again. “Interesting.”

  “It is interesting,” he told her, sliding off her glasses and setting them on the coffee table.

  “I think the most interesting…gurfle murfle muh.” Her voice was muffled because he pulled her T-shirt up and over her head. He didn’t ask her to repeat herself. Instead he tossed her shirt far away so she couldn’t put it back on.

  He skimmed his hand along the side of her neck. Her lips parted, cheeks flushed, but her eyebrows scrunched together like she was trying to concentrate. “Kate, do you know how badly I wanted to wipe that damn bathroom mirror clean of lipsticked equations?”

  She licked her lips. “As badly as I wanted to confiscate the toothpaste tube until you learned how to use it properly?”

  He slid her bra straps off her shoulders, pulled it off, and tossed that too. Then he cupped her breasts with both hands, stroking the tips that beaded with his touch.

  “Did we resolve our issue?” she asked in a breathy voice.

  “Who the fuck cares,” he said before his lips met hers. She grabbed his head. He rolled on top of her, mouths fused together, and settled between her legs. He shifted to kiss along her jaw, lust driving him to move faster than he normally would. He sucked the cord of her neck, and she bucked underneath him. The rest was a hot blur, their hands grabbing frantically while they kissed passionately.

  He stood and stripped out of his clothes, and she took his cue, yanking her shorts and panties off. Then he was on her, taking her in one swift thrust. She gasped and then urged him on, “Harder, faster, fuck, fuck, fuck.” She was a talker, and he loved it. She lifted her legs higher, her heels digging into his back as he thrust deeper. He slid his hand under her ass, lifting her hips for the angle he needed. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” she shouted, and he just let go, pumping into her as she shuddered underneath him.

  He stilled, buried deep inside her, breathing hard. He felt her shaking under him and lifted his head. She was quietly laughing.

  “What’s so damn funny?” he asked.

  “I’m just happy,” she said. “I never knew I was such a rebel.”

  He cupped her face with one hand and kissed her smiling mouth. “I love that about you.” He went nose to nose with her, gazing into her bright blue eyes.

  “I’m a badass too,” she said. “Two piercings and I didn’t pass out.”

  He’d never heard of someone passing out from getting their ears pierced. “I guess.”

  She smacked his shoulder. “What do you mean you guess? That is so badass. I usually pass out with needles.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah.”

  He kissed her. “Then I guess you’re a badass.”

  “Think you can handle me?” she asked in a taunting voice.

  He nipped her neck. “I’ll handle you all right,” he growled in her ear. Then he stood and carried her, cradled in his arms, to the bedroom. He tossed her on the bed. She landed with a bounce and a delighted laugh. “I’m gonna handle you until you break every rule.”

  “Do it,” she said, revving him further.

  “Manhan
dle, Kate.” Then he grabbed her and handled her until he got her to raise her voice (rule one broken), completely short-circuit (rule two), take his stuff (rule three in a manner of speaking), share her high-value body (rule four, aw, yeah, his territory), call him every name she’d ever thought of, including some she hadn’t (rule five, call me names, you dirty talker), and write equations all over his body in extremely perishable whipped cream (fuck rule six).

  Fuck all the rules.

  ~ ~ ~

  Kate woke early the next morning, lying naked on her stomach, which was where she’d collapsed after the third round with Ian. His stamina was incredible. He always wore her out long before he wore out. Probably because he wrung multiple orgasms out of her before taking his own single orgasm. Such a considerate stud. How could he not have been the perfect ten to set the bar for all others?

  She suddenly realized why she was awake. Her cell was ringing. She shifted and reached for it on the nightstand.

  “Hello?” she whispered. No one there. It must’ve already went to voicemail. She shifted back next to Ian, lay on her stomach and propped up on her elbows, tapping her cell to check the voicemail.

  A few moments later, she bolted upright in bed. “Ian!”

  He groaned, still sleeping on his back. She set her cell on the nightstand and returned to Ian, shaking him by the shoulders. “Ian! Wake up!”

  “Time is it?” he muttered.

  “Wake up! I’ve got big news!”

  No response. She straddled him and wiggled around a bit. She felt him grow hard under her; then his hands went to her hips, and his lips curved into a smile. “Mmm…” he said. His eyes were still closed.

  She leaned forward and nipped his bottom lip to wake him up. Then she shrieked in surprise when he suddenly flipped her onto her back, pushing her legs apart with his body, his hands pinning hers to the mattress above her head.

  “Morning, badass,” he said, shifting his hips into position for what she knew would be a hard screw. He was an animal in the morning.

  “Wait,” she said. “I have to tell you some big news.”

  “After,” he murmured, the words hot against the sensitive skin of her neck.

  She moaned. Dammit! He was going to short-circuit her before she got to say her big news. She scrunched her eyes tight and focused the last of her brain power. “A weasel got into the Large Hadron Collider and now I’ve got it!” she said all in a rush.

  He lifted his head, gazing at her for a long moment, his eyes still sleepy. “Got what?”

  “It’s mine!”

  He stared at her blankly. “The weasel?”

  “No, silly! The fellowship is mine! A weasel got into the Large Hadron Collider and ate through some power lines, shutting it down. Ha! Another short circuit in my favor! Since they couldn’t work, the committee went through the fellowship applications ahead of schedule and I’m in! I got it!”

  He released her hands and got off her, sitting next to her. She sprang up and threw her arms around him. “It’s a dream come true!” she exclaimed.

  He hugged her. “I’m so proud of you. Really good news. We’ll celebrate once I’m more awake.”

  She bounced in place, her excitement needing an outlet. “I’m going to call Amber.” She scooted to sit on the edge of the bed and grabbed her cell.

  “Is Nate going with you?” Ian asked.

  “Yes. Oh, good idea. I should call him too.”

  “I’ll miss you.”

  She shifted to look at him. “What do you mean? I want you to come with me.”

  “I can’t. My job is here.”

  “Tell them you want to work remotely.”

  “I worked remotely this week, and my boss didn’t like it. The grad students need more hands-on supervision. That’s the main reason they brought me on. I’m one of those rare people who understand the technology and have the social skills to manage a herd of nerds.” He gave her a smile that looked forced. “Least that’s what my boss said.”

  “Oh.” She turned back to her cell, her excitement dimmed. And then Ian’s heat was at her back.

  He wrapped his arms around her waist, his legs on either side of hers. “I’ll be right here when you get back.”

  She didn’t say anything. This was not how she pictured things between them. Another year long distance? Even more long distance, across an entire ocean. “I thought you didn’t want a long-distance marriage.”

  He brushed her hair back and kissed her temple. “I don’t. We’ll have a long-distance engagement.”

  Tears stung her eyes. She told herself to suck it up. It wasn’t like they were breaking up. She was engaged, for crying out loud.

  Ian pulled away, settling back on the bed. “Go ahead and make your calls. I know a lot of people want to celebrate with you.”

  She took the phone into the other room because she needed a moment to pull herself together. The whole point of their engagement was to bring them closer. Long distance for another year was the exact opposite.

  And, not for the first time, she feared her proposal had been a huge mistake.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ian told himself this fellowship opportunity was not the end of their relationship. He’d told himself that when Kate first shared her good news, and he reminded himself over and over the entire next week—his last week—with Kate. He wasn’t going to be the boyfriend that held his brilliant girlfriend back. They’d do long distance. It was no different than the way they’d been before the engagement. He’d thought they’d be doing a year long distance from Boston to Chicago anyway. So now they’d do a year long distance from Boston to Geneva. Except, somehow, between the engagement and living together for a month, that long distance didn’t feel quite so doable. In fact, it felt final. And not just because Nate, the guy who adored Kate, would be by her side and not Ian.

  He felt like he was losing her.

  Everything they did felt like the very last time. Bittersweet. Even stupid little things like looking in the mirror through lipsticked equations got him choked up. Kate must’ve thought so too because she wasn’t as happy as a person who’d just been handed the opportunity of a lifetime should be. She was listless, taking lots of long walks, forgetting to brush her hair. Even her equation writing slowed down. She was in some distant space in her head, seeming to withdraw further and further every day.

  Now it was Saturday morning and they had to get ready for the engagement party in their honor in Clover Park. He finished shaving, noting the bathroom mirror was clean for once, the equations wiped away, and went to the bedroom, changing into dress pants and a button-down shirt. Kate was putting in some new earrings, pearls, to go with her new floral dress with cheerful yellow roses. His gaze trailed down her bare legs to sneakers.

  “Wrong shoes,” he told her.

  “Huh?” She glanced down. “Oh. Habit.” She kicked them off, went to the closet for her only pair of dress shoes at his place, and came back several minutes later barefoot. By then he was completely ready. He watched her go to the hamper in the corner of the bedroom, pick up all his dirty socks on the floor around it, put them in the hamper, and move the hamper inside the closet.

  “I don’t know why I didn’t think of that before,” she said. “Now I don’t have to see your socks on the floor and you can play your favorite sock basketball game.” Her lower lip trembled, and she rushed out of the room.

  He fetched her black heels from the closet and found her in the kitchen, taking eggs and milk out of the refrigerator. “I never cooked for you,” she said. “I can make scrambled eggs. I should’ve cooked for you.”

  She started opening and shutting cabinets, probably looking for a pan. He set the shoes down and pulled her into his arms. “No time for that,” he said. “We need to drive down for the party.”

  She looked up at him, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. “I need more time,” she said urgently. “Today is the party. Then we only have Sunday. I leave Monday morning. We need to cram a lot in.�
� She pulled away. “This is it! I’m not going to see you after this for a year!”

  “I’ll see you the day before you fly to Europe,” he reminded her. “And I’ll drive you to the airport.” In late August, three months from now, she’d be flying out of New York to go direct to Geneva. She’d be staying at Barry and Amber’s house the day before for a last visit. Their place was about an hour and a half from the airport.

  She wrung her hands together. “It’s not enough! This month went too fast.”

  He agreed. Absolutely. But he wasn’t going to be the guy holding her back.

  He put the eggs and milk away. “You’ll be home for Christmas. We’ll have a week then.” He hadn’t accrued enough vacation time at his new job to visit before then.

  He turned to find her in the living room, frantically grabbing all the Post-its she’d left on the coffee table. She was already leaving his place.

  She crumpled them in her fist and held them up. “These are useless!”

  She kept going, rapidly clearing the apartment of all the equations she’d written this past week. She rushed past him, her hands full of crumpled Post-its. “Garbage work!” she exclaimed before shoving them all in the trash can under the kitchen sink.

  He took a deep breath, looked around the place, clean and uncluttered for the first time in a month. She’d slowly been cleaning up her stuff all week. Erasing herself from his life. It sucked.

  She wiped the equations off the whiteboard on the refrigerator with her hand, leaving black smudges on the side of her hand.

  “Kate, your shoes are right there.” He pointed to where he’d left the black heels next to her chair at the small kitchen table.

  She shoved her feet into the heels and wiped the corners of her eyes, leaving a black smudge on one cheek. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  Bittersweet.

  He crossed to her and took her hand, leading her back to the bathroom. “You want your hair down for the party?”

  She sniffled. “I forgot to do my hair. I’m such a mess. I don’t even know if I should go to this party.”

  “We have to go. It’s for us.”