The Air He Breathes

by Brittainy C. Cherry

  He turned and gave me a smile that made my own lips turn up. Tristan had a way of making people feel worthy just by the way his smile and eyes met their face. I wished he smiled more often.

  “When I first moved out here, I was angry all the time. I missed my son. I missed my wife. I hated my parents, even though I shouldn’t have. For some reason I found it easy to blame them, as if it was their fault that I lost my wife and son. It felt easier to be mad at them than to be sad. The only time I didn’t feel angry was when I came out here and breathed with the trees.”

  He was opening up.

  Please stay open.

  “I’m glad you found something that can make you feel a bit of peace.”

  His eyes danced across me, and a knowing smile found his lips. “Yeah. Me too.” He ran his fingers against his beard, which was growing in fast. “Since we aren’t using each other anymore, you can use this place if you want. To help you find peace.”

  I smiled. “Thank you.”

  He simply nodded in response.

  Emma jumped into the river and made huge splashes, pretty much soaking us all. Even though I wanted to scold her, the smile on her face and the excitement in Zeus made me happy.

  “Thanks for bringing us here, Tick! I love it!” she shouted, tossing her hands up in excitement.

  “Anytime.” Tristan smiled.

  “I’m glad my daughter likes you. Otherwise I would’ve never spoken to you again.”

  He laughed. “I’m glad my dog likes you. Otherwise I would’ve been convinced that you were a psycho. A person should always trust their pet’s instincts. Dogs are better at judging the character of a person than people are.”

  “Is that so?”

  “It is.” He paused and ran his fingers through his hair. “Why does your daughter keep calling me Tick?”

  “Oh… Because the first time we met I called you a dick, and she asked what a dick was, and seeing as how I’m an awful parent, I’d told her I said tick, and explained to her that a tick is a bug.”

  “So she thinks I’m a parasite that lives on the blood of mammals?”

  “I think it’s actually an ectoparasite seeing as how they live on the outside of the mammals as opposed to in the interior. And they live on some amphibians, too.”

  He snickered. “Well, that makes me feel better.”

  I laughed. “It should.”

  “Well, Emma, if you’re going to call me Tick, I think it’s only right for me to call you Tock!” Tristan smiled.

  “Like a clock!” Emma beamed, jumping up and down. “Tick and Tock! Tick and Tock!”

  “I think she approves,” I said.

  “Elizabeth?” He turned my way with a serious stare.

  “Yes?”

  “I know we can’t do what we were doing before anymore but, can we be friends?” he asked timidly.

  “I thought you didn’t know how to be a friend?”

  “I don’t.” He sighed, rubbing his neck. “But I was kind of hoping you could show me.”

  “Why me?”

  “You believe in good things, even when your heart is broken. And I can’t remember what good things are like.”

  That saddened me. “When was the last time you were happy, Tristan?”

  He didn’t reply.

  That saddened me even more. “Of course we can be friends,” I said.

  Everyone deserved at least one friend they could trust with their secrets and fears. With their guilt, with their happiness. Everyone deserved a person who could look into their eyes and say, “You’re enough. You’re perfect, scars and all.” I thought Tristan deserved that more than most, though. In his eyes he held such sadness, such pain, and all I wanted to do was wrap my arms around him and let him know he was good enough.

  I didn’t want to be his friend because I felt bad for him, though. No. I wanted his friendship because unlike most, he saw past my own fake happiness and he would sometimes stare at me as if he were saying, “You’re enough, Elizabeth. You’re enough…scars and all.”

  Tristan’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked at me as if he was seeing me for the first time. I stared at him as if I would never see him again. Neither of us wanted to blink. The seriousness of the moment started making us both uncomfortable. As he cleared his throat, I cleared mine. “Too much?” I asked.

  “Too much indeed. So, on another note…” He ran his hands through his hair. “I noticed a certain Fifty Shades of Grey book in your hands when I last cut the grass.”

  My cheeks reddened, and I shoved him. “Don’t judge me, it’s for my book club. Plus, it’s good.”

  “I’m not judging. Okay, well, I am. Only a little, though.”

  “Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.” I smirked.

  “Oh? And how much of it have you actually tried?” He gave me a smug look, and I swore my cheeks were on fire.

  Snickering, I started walking back toward our houses. “You’re such an ass,” I muttered. “Come on, Emma, let’s get you cleaned up and get you to your sleepover.”

  “You’re going the wrong way,” Tristan remarked.

  I paused, turned around, and walked past him again, going the opposite way. “You’re still an ass.” I smiled. He smiled back and walked beside me as Emma and Zeus followed our lead.

  It was ten-thirty at night when I heard the banging. I dragged myself out of bed to answer the door. Susan was standing there with her arms crossed beside Emma, who was still in her pajamas, holding her overnight bag and Bubba.

  “Susan, what’s going on?” I asked, alarm filling me up. “Emma, are you okay?” She didn’t reply; she just stared at the ground, almost embarrassed. I turned back to Susan. “What happened?”

  “What happened,” she hissed. “What happened was that your daughter thought it was okay to tell stories about zombies to the rest of the girls, making them all freak out. Now I have ten girls at my house who won’t go to sleep because they’re afraid of nightmares!”

  I frowned. “I’m sorry. I’m sure she didn’t mean any harm. I can come over and talk to the girls if you want. I’m sure it’s all a misunderstanding.”

  “A misunderstanding?” She huffed. “She started walking like the walking dead and said she wanted to eat brains! You told me she didn’t suffer any trauma from Steven’s death.”

  “She didn’t,” I said, anger building in my stomach. I looked down at Emma and saw tears falling from her eyes. Bending down, I pulled her into a hug. “It’s okay, honey.”

  “Well, obviously she’s not okay. She needs professional help.”

  “Emma, honey, cover your ears really fast,” I said. She did. My insides tightened and I stood tall, facing Susan. “I’m going to say something and I mean this in the nicest way possible. If you say one more thing about my daughter I will literally kick your ass, pull out your hair extensions, and tell your husband that you’ve been screwing the checkout boy at the grocery store.”

  “How dare you!” she cried, horrified by my words.

  “How dare I? How dare you think it’s appropriate to walk up to me and tell me things about my daughter in such a rude, demeaning fashion? I think it’s time for you to go.”

  “I think it is! Perhaps you should stay away from our book club, too. Your energy and life style is toxic to our group. Keep her away from my Rachel,” Susan ordered, walking off.

  “Don’t worry,” I shouted. “I will!” There was something that happened to the sanest people when others talked about their children: you turned into a beast and would do anything and everything to protect your children from the wolves of the world. I wasn’t proud of the words I’d said to Susan, but from the bottom of my heart, I meant every single one.

  I walked Emma into the living room and we sat down. “Mama, the girls said I was a freak because I liked zombies and mummies. I don’t want to be a freak.”

  “You’re not a freak,” I promised, pulling her closer to me. “You’re perfect the way you are.”

  “Then why di
d they say that?” she asked.

  “Because…” I sighed, trying to find the right answer. “Because sometimes others have a hard time embracing people’s differences. You know that zombies aren’t real, right?” She nodded. “And you didn’t try to scare the other girls, did you?”

  “No!” she said quickly. “I just wanted them to play with me as the characters from Hotel Transylvania. I didn’t want to scare them. I just wanted to have friends.”

  My heart is breaking.

  “You want to play with Mama?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Well, how about we watch a cartoon on Netflix and have our own sleepover?”

  Her eyes lit up, and the tears stopped. “Can we watch Avengers?” she asked, loving superheroes almost as much as her father had.

  “Of course,” I said.

  She fell asleep right as the Hulk appeared on screen. I placed her in her bed, kissing her forehead. She began to smile in her sleep, and then I went to bed to find my own dreams.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Elizabeth

  “Tristan,” I faintly muttered. My breaths were uneven, heavy.

  His hand brushed against my cheek. “Suck it slow,” he ordered, running his thumb against my bottom lip. He slid his finger into my mouth, allowing me to suck it gently as he rocked it in and out of my mouth before pulling it away from me and running the wetness down my neck, against my bra strap, down my cleavage. My nipples were hardening from his touch, longing for his mouth to find its way to each one.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

  “We shouldn’t,” I moaned, feeling his hardness pressed against my panties. We should, I thought to myself. “We’re not supposed to do this anymore…” My breaths were heavy, hungry for him to be inside me, hungry for him to take me deeply. I wanted him to turn me around, lift my legs, and take me hard. He ignored my protest—as I wanted him to—twisting my hair in one hand and moving his other down my body, landing at my black lace panties.

  “You’re wet,” he said, bending in closer to me, running his tongue against my cheek before he slipped his mouth over mine. He whispered as he slid his tongue between my lips. “I want to taste all of you,” he hissed. His fingers rolled against my panties, my breaths catching as his thumb circled my clit through the faint fabric.

  “Please,” I begged. I arched my back, longing for his hand to remove the thin barrier.

  “Not here,” he said, lifting me up to a sitting position. He slid my panties to the left and bent down, allowing his tongue to taste my wetness. My hips involuntarily arched in his direction as my hands ran through his hair. When he lifted his head, he rested his mouth against mine, allowing me to taste myself, to taste him. “I want to show you something,” he muttered against my lips.

  Anything. Show me anything.

  My eyes fell to his erection hidden beneath his boxers and a smile came to my lips. He lifted me off the bed and pressed me against the closest door. “How bad do you want it?” Bad, I thought, unable to speak. My heart was racing and I was almost afraid it would give up on me, unable to keep up with my wants, my desires. I wanted to explode for him. I wanted to lose myself to him. His hips rocked toward me as he pushed his hardness against my body.

  “I want to show you the room,” he whispered against my ear, flicking his tongue up and down before sucking my lobe.

  “Mmm,” I replied as he carried me down the hallway. There was a room to my left, which I hadn’t noticed when I’d first arrived. “What is…?”

  He shushed me, placing his hand over my lips. “It’s my green room,” he muttered, pushing the door open.

  “Your what?” Before he could reply, I turned around and saw a room filled with all green furniture. Green whips, green dildos, green everything. “What the...” I shut up and kept looking around. “This is kind of weird, babe…”

  “I know,” he said with a deep tone of voice. When I turned back to him, my throat burned as a scream escaped me. I was staring at a huge, green man who was holding me against his body. His eyes were glowing green and he held me up. “Incredible Hulk wants to smash you!”

  “Holy shit!” I screamed, shaking myself from a very weird, twisted nightmare. Within seconds, Tristan was standing at his bedroom window, looking at me.

  “Are you okay?”

  I looked down to see I was wearing a white tank top with white panties and no bra. I screamed again, covering my chest with a blanket. “Oh my God, go away!” I hissed, freaking out.

  “I’m sorry! I heard you scream and…” He paused and raised an eyebrow, looking into my eyes. “Did you just have a sex dream?” He started chuckling, covering his mouth with his hand. “You just had a sex dream.”

  “Go away!” I said, leaping up from my bed and closing my window shades.

  “Okay, okay, you nasty woman, you. I told you about those books.”

  My cheeks blushed over, and I collapsed back on my bed, pulling the cover over my head.

  Freaking Incredible Hulk. Freaking Tristan Cole.

  Chapter Twenty

  Elizabeth

  “You’ve been avoiding eye contact with me all day,” Tristan said as he moved some items around in Needful Things. I sat at the counter, watching Mr. Henson make me an herbal tea mixture. Emma and Zeus were running around on a hunt for random objects in the store. We’d been coming to Mr. Henson’s shop weekly now for tea, hot cocoa, and every now and again a tarot reading. I was beginning to love the place. “You don’t have to be shy about it, I’m pretty sure it happens to everyone,” Tristan explained.

  “What are you talking about? I’m not avoiding you. And I don’t know what happens to everyone because nothing happened to me.” I huffed, totally avoiding his stare. Each time I looked at him I couldn’t stop blushing and imagining his shirt bursting open as he transformed into a beast.

  “It was just a sex dream,” he said.

  “It wasn’t a sex dream!” I vocalized, sounding a little too guilty.

  Tristan turned to Mr. Henson with a smug smirk on his face. “Elizabeth was having a sex dream last night.”

  “Shut up, Tristan!” I screamed, slamming my hands against the table. My face was beet red, and I couldn’t stop it from heating up.

  Mr. Henson looked at me, and then at my tea mixture, and added a few more herbs. “Sex dreams are normal.”

  “Was it a good sex dream?” Tristan badgered me. I was five seconds away from figuring out a way I could beat him up.

  My lips parted to deny the dream, but I couldn’t. My hands cupped my face and I sighed heavily. “We aren’t talking about this.”

  “Come on, you have to tell us now,” he said, walking over to sit on the stool beside me.

  I twisted away from him.

  He took my stool and twisted me back toward him.

  “Oh crap,” he muttered, looking at me with eyes filled with understanding.

  “Shut up, Tristan!” I muttered again, unable to look at him for too long.

  “You had a sex dream about me?!” he hollered, and I slugged him in the arm as a reflex at his words.

  Mr. Henson chortled. “Plot twist.”

  A wicked smile spread across Tristan’s face and it was official: I. Am. Dying! He leaned in and whispered, “Did I do that thing with my tongue to your lips?”

  I blushed. “Which lips are we talking about?” I whispered back.

  His wolfish grin deepened. “You filthy, filthy girl.”

  Pushing myself off my stool, my eyes met Mr. Henson. “Can I get that in a to-go cup?”

  “Oh, come on, Elizabeth, I need to know more!” Tristan said, laughing at my embarrassment. I ignored him and took my tea, which Mr. Henson had transferred to a to-go cup.

  “I’m not talking to you,” I said, moving to leave the store. “Come on, Emma, let’s go.”

  “Just a few more details!” he begged as I held the front door open.

  A heavy sigh lef
t me and I turned his way. “You took me to a green room where you transformed into a green monster and started smashing me around the room. And I mean ‘smashing’ in every possible sense of the word.”

  Blinking eyes. Blinking eyes. Blank stare. Blank stare. “Come again?”

  His paramount confusion almost made me burst into laughter. “You wanted to know.”

  “You’re a really, really odd woman.”

  Mr. Henson smiled. “Ah, the same thing happened to me during the summer of 1976.”

  “You had a sex dream?” I asked, confused.

  “Dream? No, honey. I was tossed around a green room and smashed.”

  Awkward moment number five thousand four hundred and forty-two of my stay in Meadows Creek. “On that note, I’m leaving. Thanks for the tea, Mr. Henson.”

  “I’ll be by to cut the grass later today,” Tristan said.

  I knew there was nothing dirty about his words, but still, I blushed as if there was.

  That afternoon, Faye came over because I wanted her help picking out the best designs and paint colors for Tristan’s house. She always had such a solid eye for the tiny details.

  We sat on the front porch with the three design boards I’d created, but instead of her focusing on the task at hand, she was watching the handsome man cutting my grass. Standing on his feet, helping him push the lawnmower was Emma, who was convinced she could cut grass better than Tristan. She argued with him the whole time, telling him how he was doing a terrible job. He just smiled and sassed her back. Faye stared at Tristan, almost awestruck at his transformation. She hadn’t seen him since he’d cut off all of his hair and revealed his strong bone structure. She also hadn’t ever seen him smile until today. His beard was already growing back in, and honestly I was happy about that. I loved his beard almost as much as I loved his smile.

  “I can’t believe it.” Faye sighed. “Who would’ve ever thought that that wild, dirty hippie, asshole thing would ever become something so…hot?”