Wall of Silence

by Gabrielle Goldsby

  “I’m sorry, Riley. I guess I’m just feeling like I’m taking so much from you and not giving anything in return.”

  “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want you here,” Riley said. “Besides, I’d like to get to know you better.”

  I wanted to scream, And I’d like to kiss you senseless and then I want to explore every part of your body naked. I couldn’t say any of those things because even if Riley was gay, available, and God forbid, faintly interested, what kind of relationship could I offer her? No, it would be better for both of us if she kept thinking of me as just a friend.

  So I smiled at her and said, “I’d like that, too. You’ve been a good friend to me even though we hardly know each other.” In that moment, I almost wished I could be captured by the LAPD and instantly deprived of that tantalizing boxful of “what ifs,” because dreaming about the possibilities hurt.

  Riley yawned. “You can sleep in the bed, I’ll sleep out here, okay?”

  “Sure.” We said good night and I left Riley on that couch. The rain had stopped, and I could hear the faint sound of the wood popping in the fireplace in the front room. I got into bed, cut the lamp, and shivered under the thick down comforter. Even though Riley was only four or five steps away, I still felt uneasy. The glass doors opposite the bed were pitch black, the world outside a creepy void. I was a city kid, born and raised; all of this quiet was unnerving to me. I took a deep breath and told my overactive imagination it was time to sleep. Through the door to the living room, I could make out the top of Riley’s head and her knees in the dim light cast by the fire.

  I lay very still for a few more minutes, listening to my own breathing and hoping to succumb to physical exhaustion. Riley was still awake. I could tell from the restless stirring and the soft thud of cushions landing on the floor that she was having as much trouble sleeping as I was, if for different reasons. That couch. What was I thinking accepting her offer of the bed?

  Guiltily, I slid my feet to the floor and padded into the other room.

  “Foster? What’s wrong?”

  The rose-petal softness of her voice temporarily robbed me of breath. “Would you like to sleep in there with me?”

  When she didn’t answer immediately, I realized I should have offered to swap places. I had meant to do that, but somehow I’d told her what I wanted by mistake. “Are you sure?”

  I tried to sound offhand. “That bed is huge.”

  She unfolded herself from the cramped couch and checked the fireplace. It was almost as if she was delaying coming into the bedroom until I had settled down. I got back into bed and forced my breathing to stay even as I felt the covers lift and settle.

  She snuggled down. “It’s a lot warmer in here. I was freezing.”

  I scowled into the darkness. Once again Riley had put my own comfort before hers. I had never been around such a selfless person in my life. I didn’t like it. Riley’s self-sacrificing tendencies made me feel like even more of an asshole. “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I wanted you to get some sleep. I didn’t think you’d be comfortable with me in here.”

  I didn’t bother to reply, because she was probably right. If she had suggested that we share a bed, I probably would have told her to take it and slept on the couch in the freezing living room. I nestled further under the blankets. Even though it was a lot warmer in this room than the front, it was still cold as hell. I moved closer to Riley, but was careful not to touch her. The slow rush of her breathing evened out, and I could tell that she was nearing a peaceful sleep.

  My mind began to wander toward questions both thrilling and frightening. Questions like, what would it feel like to make love to Riley? Where did she like and dislike being touched? What would she taste like? If I’d been alone, the final thought would have made me cry out. I had let her in. I shivered from cold and an ache that appeared from nowhere and suffused my body. Riley murmured in her sleep and turned over. I caught my breath as her arm encircled my waist. I tried to move away, but she pulled me closer.

  We lay that way for hours as the fire in the front room died down and the biting cold began to skulk back in. Being wrapped in her arms, taking in her scent with every breath, was the most excruciating, yet wonderful thing I had ever felt. As I drifted toward sleep, I must have stirred against her because she gave me another hug that sent warmth seeping through my body. The last thing I remember thinking was, God, she is so damn sweet.

  *

  I lifted my hips. Close, I was so close.

  “Foster?”

  “No,” I breathed. “Please don’t talk. I’m so close.”

  “I understand. I just need you to open your eyes.”

  “No, I don’t want to. Then you’ll go away, and I’m so close. I don’t remember ever being this close.” There was a firm stroke to my clitoris and I groaned loudly.

  “Does that feel good?” a husky voice asked.

  “Yes, please don’t stop.”

  “Then open your eyes for me, Foster. Open your eyes.”

  I complied because I didn’t want her to stop. I wanted the strokes to continue until I found relief.

  Aroused blue eyes floated above me.

  “Riley?” Fear snatched me away from the pleasure she was giving with her rhythmic, steady strokes. “Riley, I can’t. You don’t understand. I won’t—”

  “Yes, you will,” she said softly. And then she was entering me.

  “Oh, God,” I breathed, rocking my hips back and forth.

  Usually by this time, unless I was alone, my body would have betrayed me. No matter how gentle the partner, I would become uncomfortable, sometimes downright sore. But this…this was different. The pulsing between my legs felt so good I wanted to draw her deeper inside.

  I tightened my legs around her hand and closed my fingers around her arms. Her legs were bare and over mine. We were molten.

  “Open your legs for me. Open them now,” she begged, and I did. In my ear, she murmured, “That’s right, don’t think, just trust me. For me, you will.” And she began to move with more force. Each stroke was excruciatingly slow. When the tremors began, I fought down the urge to scream. It had been so long since I’d had an orgasm that the intensity scared me. Riley continued to thrust into me. The pleasure was almost too much.

  “Riley, please stop. I can’t…” I felt like I was drowning, and she still continued to move inside me, not pausing to let me think or breathe. “No more. Please, I can’t take any more.”

  *

  “Foster…Foster, wake up.”

  The warm hand on my stomach and the pulling in my crotch were the first things that I became aware of.

  I opened my eyes to see Riley looming over me. The morning sun illuminated the fact that she was standing beside the bed fully clothed and not a hair out of place. “Are you okay?” Her concern was genuine, but there was no inflection that a night of lovemaking would bring.

  I tried to answer, but only a sob came out as I felt the tail end of my orgasm die away. Spent, mortified, I lay trapped beneath Riley’s concerned gaze.

  “You were calling my name,” she said.

  “Oh, God…” was all I got out as I slid off the bed and moved quickly away from her. She knows. She knows I was dreaming about her. My feet hit the freezing-cold floor, and I stood still as the shocking cruelty of our situation hit me all at once. She was the only tie I had to the real world. Hell, the only person I trusted. And now I was having dreams in which she made love…no, had sex with me.

  I ran into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. In lieu of a lock, the door had a small skeleton key. I turned it and backed away. I sat down on the shower ledge with my hands over my head and eyes closed, and started to rock. My God, if she knew I was fantasizing about her, what then? I didn’t want her to put two and two together and come up with Foster is a perv. One-way attractions were a disaster for both parties. She would get all self-conscious. Everything would be ruined.

  “Foster? If I
scared you just now—?”

  “I’m just going to take a shower,” I called out, trying to make my voice sound as normal as possible.

  “It was just a nightmare.” She tapped on the door. “Foster, open up. Please. I would never do anything to hurt you.”

  I couldn’t help it, I sobbed. I don’t know if it was from relief or pain. She didn’t know what I was dreaming about. She thought I was afraid of her. I slowly got to my feet and unlocked the door. She was standing in the doorway, both arms stretched within the frame, her head bowed as if she had been resting it on the door. “Don’t cry,” she said softly. “It’s just a nightmare, okay?”

  She looked so sad that I ran into her arms. “Okay,” I whispered into her T-shirt.

  I didn’t explain that I was crying because it was just a dream. What good would it do to embarrass her? She was my friend. She cared about me. That’s all that mattered.

  Chapter Twelve

  “I know you will never tell me that you need me, and that’s okay. I know what you did, and what’s happened to you, so you don’t need to hide from me. I am going to fall in love with you and you don’t have any say in it. Yell at me if you need to, but I’m not going anywhere.”

  Her voice faded as I clawed my way out of a deep sleep. “Riley?” I gasped.

  Burrowed beneath the warm down comforter like a hibernating bear, I peeked toward her side of the bed. Her head had left an impression in the pillow. I stretched out a hand. The sheets were still warm, but she was gone. I must have been dreaming again. I could have sworn she was talking to me, saying the sweetest things. The alarm clock claimed it was already past ten. Who gets up before ten if they don’t have to? Slowly my body began to relax. I am going to fall in love with you.

  I had to fight down a small curl of arousal that threatened to turn into something dangerous. My God, I’d had an orgasm in my sleep while Riley was watching. Then I’d fled into the bathroom like a fourteen-year-old schoolboy with his first boner. My skin was hot with humiliation. At least Riley believed I had been in the throes of a nightmare, or I would have been too embarrassed to look her in the eye. As it was, I didn’t think I would be in any hurry to face her. I’m not the shyest person in the world, but you just don’t have a wet dream while someone watches and then converse like nothing happened. At least I couldn’t.

  I lay rigid for a moment, rehearsing a nonchalant greeting and a comment about the slightly improved weather. The smell of fresh coffee drifted in and tantalized my nose. Riley was not playing fair. I pushed the covers aside, only to be treated to one of the finest views I had ever seen. Though the glass doors were tinted, it was still possible to see the ocean through them. I craned, detecting a movement just to the right of the door. As a long, muscular leg became visible, I leaned so far out of the bed, I would have fallen if I hadn’t grabbed hold of the bedpost. Riley was on a bench, leaning back against the cabin, sipping from a mug. She appeared to be staring out at the ocean. She was dressed in running shoes, a sweatshirt, and shorts that displayed an expanse of thigh. I made myself look away. She must have gone out to the car and retrieved some of our things. I got down off the bed and, sure enough, when I walked into the living room, I found our bags sitting neatly against the wall. Riley had already taken out a sweatshirt and pants and set them next to my flip-flops.

  I slipped the pants on, as well as the overly large sweatshirt. Like Dani’s, it too engulfed me. But unlike Dani’s, the sleeves were also too long. I pushed them up my forearms and found a mirror. “Oh yeah, real cute.”

  After I’d poured myself a mug of coffee, I joined Riley on the deck. “Aren’t you cold?”

  “No, not really.” She stared out at the water. “I love it here.”

  I gazed out at the choppy ocean. Fog made visibility bad, but I could still see for miles. To the right of us were a few dark rock outcroppings. The water crashed against these rhythmically before cascading back down into the ocean, leaving a white froth that dissipated like the foam on mocha.

  “It is very beautiful,” I said. “I hope the weather gets better soon so it won’t be so foggy.”

  “Hmm.”

  I thought it was a grunt of agreement, but I couldn’t be sure. She seemed preoccupied, watching a small boat out on the rough water. She lifted a long telescope that was leaning against the bench.

  “This was Dani’s when she was a kid. She leaves it here because this is the best place for star watching at night.”

  I was really jealous of this Dani chick. Riley seemed to talk about her an awful lot. She set the telescope up and peered into it, then gestured for me to come stand in front of her. Adjusting the eyepiece, she said, “Look.”

  It took me a minute to find what I was supposed to be looking at. “Oh my God, is he going to dive in that water?” I asked breathlessly as I saw two men in the fishing boat, one wearing a wet suit. “It must be freezing out there.”

  Riley leaned from behind me to look into the telescope. “More than likely, they’re putting out lobster traps.”

  I shivered a little as the warmth of her body and the chill in the air caused my nipples to become painfully hard. My mind started to wander back to my dream and how much I would enjoy touching her without pretense.

  “I meant what I said.” The words were very soft in my ear. “I would never hurt you.”

  I froze. “I know you wouldn’t.”

  “The nightmare…”

  “It wasn’t a nightmare.” I lifted my eye from the telescope. “It didn’t have anything to do with you.”

  “But you called my name.”

  “Riley. Let’s not talk about it. I just want to enjoy this. I don’t want to think about things.”

  “I understand.”

  Apparently I had convinced her that I was having bad dreams about stuff in L.A., not imagining her screwing the hell out of me. Welcome to an all-new low, Foster Everett. I thanked her and tried not to look as grateful as I felt. I leapt on the first safe topic I could think of. “So, tell me about your friend Dani. You’re pretty close, huh?”

  “She’s my best friend.” I could tell by the sound of her voice that she was uncomfortable. “When I first moved here with my brother and mother, I met her at school. She was the first person who took any interest in me. Usually I was shy, but I saw her drawing a picture of the Incredible Hulk.” She paused, smiling to herself with faint irony. “I used to have this thing for Lou Ferrigno.”

  “Used to?” I chuckled nervously. “I thought I saw his picture on the back of a door at the theater.”

  “He was sort of a role model.”

  “Is that why you started lifting weights?”

  “One of the reasons.” Her mouth was tightly pursed and a muscle flexed rhythmically in her jaw.

  “Hey.” I put my hand on her shoulder. “I wasn’t trying to pry.”

  In an absent voice, she said. “It’s okay.” She seemed to have something on her mind. “Do you want to take a walk? This is a private road. There isn’t anyone else on it.”

  “Sure.” I followed her off the deck.

  Large logs edged the dirt path for a few hundred feet, then we seemed to be in the deep woods. The only link between us and the outside world was the road we were on and the barely visible telephone poles.

  We walked in silence for a while, then I remarked, “So you moved here with your mother and brother.”

  “Yes. My father…”

  She made an odd noise and I thought she’d stumbled on a root or something. But then I realized the words were to blame. I sensed a sadness in her so deep that I wanted to hold her close to me. Two things were clear to me before she spoke again: Riley loved her father, and he was no longer living.

  “My father died when I was nine,” she said gruffly, and resumed her walk at a faster pace.

  I used to think that I knew what it felt like to lose a parent. The deep resentment I felt for my mother burned in the back of my mind constantly. Anger can be a powerful force, even more
powerful than love. Mine had helped me through a lot of emotionally tough times. But the utter sadness I could feel emanating from Riley was nothing like the feelings I had for my mother. Riley had known the love of a parent, not just someone who had put on her Sunday best and left with a cross-country trucker, like my mother had.

  “I’m sorry,” I told her.

  “Me, too.”

  “What happened?”

  “Dad was a pilot in the Air Force. His plane went down because of a faulty part. After he died, I stopped talking for a while.”

  Did she mean she stopped completely, sort of stopped, or what? The idea that someone would willingly not speak left me completely befuddled. I wanted to question her further, but instead I decided to employ a little-used strategy of mine, the “shut the fuck up and listen” strategy.

  She kicked a pinecone off the path. In a voice that sounded like it hadn’t been used in years, she said, “I was very skinny. I guess with that and the not speaking much, kids thought I was weird.”

  “Kids can be cruel,” I said, though I sensed Riley had endured more than the usual bullying.

  “They would play at who could make me cry out by hitting me.” Riley glanced at me. “I never did.”

  I felt my fingers curl into my palms. I felt sure that if I were to look, I would see little crescent creases in them. “What about your mother? Didn’t she stop them?”

  “She was too busy to care. Things got better when I started to grow. By the time I was in the eighth grade, I was already taller than anyone else in my school, including most of the teachers. Most of them were scared of me by then, though there was always someone who believed the bigger they are, the harder they fall.”

  I turned away, blinking. I had expressed the same opinion many times myself, but I had never hurt anyone without provocation. The vision of a blond man in white boxer shorts flashed in my memory. A tear rolled down my cheek. “I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t have to be sorry. It was a long time ago. I’m glad that my life turned out the way it did.”