Unsurprisingly Complicated

by Claudia Burgoa

  “Let’s go to the pool, then,” Chris announces.

  “Or open the door,” Gabe adds. “If I know my child, she’s lost what little patience she has and is waiting for us.”

  Before I can turn around and go back to where they left me, the door opens.

  “Told you, babe,” Gabe smirks at me and tilts his head toward the office. “She’s impatient, just like her father.”

  The house Porter bought back when I was in college so we could move in together belongs to me. The house had new tenants—a drug cartel. The FBI and DEA had me on their list of suspects up until Mason cleared my name. That’s what the weird call asking for my permission to go in and take everything inside meant. Got to love the man. He skipped the classified information.

  “We don’t know much about Porter’s part in the operation,” Mase speaks, arms crossed with a stern glare toward me.

  “You fear that he’ll come back?” I direct my question to Mason. “Is that why you came?”

  “I’m skeptical about him coming back, but I worry about your safety.” He doesn’t move; I feel like a stranger is talking to me. “He’s using a gun. You can’t let a monkey carry a weapon without training. I’m here because you invited me, but I’m happy that I can be in charge of your protection, too.”

  Everyone watches me carefully and no one moves. Not even Mase, who is in the furthest corner of the room, close to the huge window that faces the sea.

  “Do you have a plan?” I continue to place my attention only on Mason, who appears to be in his ninja mode. “To fix the mess.”

  “You wound me,” he exclaims touching his chest. “Of course I do. But if I tell you—”

  “I’ll know it,” I reply, and we both smile because this is how our regular banter goes.

  “It includes having a guy covering you at all times when we head back home,” he utters and waits, measuring me before he continues. “At least until I know where Porter is. He’s carrying a weapon, there’s no guarantee that the next time he won’t use it, Nine. The rest, it’s classified.”

  The haunted eyes I saw yesterday morning while he was helping fix the mess Porter left in my house stare at me. At night, while he made love to me, he had been so tender, loving, and careful. As if loving the most fragile creature in the world. Of course the words ‘I love you’ never came out of that skillful mouth of his. He frustrates me, as I witness that internal fight where he combats having feelings for anyone, even his own father. I do the only thing I know, love him with all my soul. Sometimes it’s the only way the heart learns how to love—by example.

  “I trust you, Ten.” He remains where he stands, and I look around. Everyone is waiting for me to do or say something and I’m not sure what.

  “Are we okay?” Dad asks, his blue eyes moving from me to Chris, both waiting expectantly.

  “Yeah, but next time, please trust me,” I appeal. “Little lies can cause significant problems. You two are all for protecting me, but know that knowledge is protection, too.”

  “I hate her logic,” Chris grunts, but he wears a huge smirk. “Reminds me of you, babe.”

  Gabe kisses Chris without uttering a word. They both hug me and leave the room, followed by my brothers and then Mr. Bradley, who had remained silent the entire time—observing. He shuts the door and it’s only Mason and me in the room.

  Mason doesn’t have to ask me if we are okay; as soon as everyone leaves he walks to where I stand. I rise on my tiptoes and latch my lips to his in a brazen display of lust—need. His lips leave mine, but they charter a random course across my jaw, then my ear, and to the hollow of my shoulder. The steamy kiss is destroying my self-control, his hands and mouth torment my flesh. My nipples grow taut, heat coils in my stomach, and my womb constricts with desire. A moan escapes my throat.

  “Not here,” I beg him between pants. “Let’s go to my room.”

  His fingers leave a fiery trail through my entire body. My chest heaves, and all my girl parts clench as his hands glide up and down the bare skin of my inner thighs.

  “Please, I’m about to combust. Room.”

  “I’m sorry for keeping all this from you.” His labored breathing makes me want to tear off his clothes. “But I swear that I meant to tell you everything.”

  “Room?” Those are the only four letters I can pronounce coherently.

  “Damn, no. Let’s go to the pool,” he grumbles. His hands stop right before they touch my heat. Mason presses me to his body. The urgency of his need is apparent against my belly. “I have to simmer down. The last thing I need is your parents hating me even further. They have three empty rooms, and yet they sent me to the guest house. That tells you how much they want me far away from their daughter.”

  “Like that stopped you last night,” I observe, sucking his earlobe. But I release him as a laugh overtakes me because it had been an entertaining part of my night. “Watching you climb had its charm, but jumping out the window earlier today when they knocked on my door to wake me up will forever draw a smile on my face. You’re a true superhero, nonetheless.”

  “Glad to entertain you. Now let’s face the in-laws and their wrath.”

  For a few seconds, I freeze. He called my parents, in-laws. My heart’s about to explode as if it’s beating at the speed of light. Is he serious?

  Don’t jump to conclusions, AJ.

  July

  I watch Mason as he sets the bags on the floor and opens the door to my house. I know part of him wants to jet off and never come back. My skin tingles, fear that he’s going to leave. Also guilt for ruining our vacation. I shouldn’t blame myself; it was spur-of-the-moment, no one’s fault. This week and a half was bittersweet. We shared blissful and magical moments, also the unsurprisingly complicated times where I had no idea how to fix the situation or how to react to what he had said.

  No, the worse was making sure I said the right thing because any hint of a stable relationship upset him. Twice he came close to breaking things up, I think this third time will be the last.

  It all began as everyone else left the house in Baja a couple of days earlier. There was an emergency at the record company. Mason and I chose to stay for the last couple of days.

  “A private vacation,” he said.

  So private, that last night we were skinny dipping in the pool. One obvious thing—us being naked—led to another and we had sex. Neither one of us stopped to think about the step you take before having intercourse. Not until we came back down from the high.

  “I love you,” I professed as usual, with the hopes that if I say it enough times, he might say it back.

  “Fuck,” Mason whispered. His muscles became a sheet of steel, and not because of his strength. Relaxed and easy going Mason disappeared.

  “I was going more for, that was incredible.” Because it had been, at least for me. Not the first time he ruins that most sublime and intimate moment between the two of us by freaking out because he’s too close to falling in fucking love with me.

  “Don’t get me wrong, Ainsley.” He cleared his throat and pulled out keeping a distance from me. A distance that felt as if a ton of metal had fallen on top of my chest.

  “Sex with you is great,” he bellowed. “But unprotected sex is for fools. I’m clean, but then there’s you and consequences.”

  “What makes you think I’m not clean?” Another slash hit my heart. “This is a first for me and there won’t be consequences. I know better, Mason.”

  Mason gave me a skeptical glare that screamed, ‘I don’t trust you.’

  I pushed myself out of the pool, found a towel, wrapped myself, and headed for my room. He’d have a hard time believing me after I gave him what appeared to be an unreliable fact. I had a long relationship with Porter, and I got pregnant. What no one knew was that Porter always used condoms. The baby had been a freakish one in a million fail. I was on the pill. The pill had to go after that, so I switched to a more effective birth control. One that wouldn’t fail as easily as the othe
r contraceptives. Nothing is guaranteed a hundred percent, but there’re other ways.

  During the night, I closed the window of my room tight and locked the door of my room. He knocked several times, and I just told him to go away. In the morning, he couldn’t talk because Coco, our housekeeper, remained attached to me until we left the house. She even traveled with us to Seattle; my brothers convinced her to help them for the next week while my parents are in town.

  “I didn’t want to imply,” Mason finally speaks. “Imply that…”

  “That I carry STD’s like loose change?” I snap at him. “That I’m trying to have a baby, so you’d be with me forever?” I puff some air, climb the stairs, and head to my bathroom. Opening the medicine cabinet, I retrieve the morning pill I keep stashed. There’s never a promise that the condom won’t break or that something freakish might happen. The residue of the trauma I continue to carry after the drama I lived through with Porter and losing baby James.

  I pop out the first pill and swallow it without any water, then turn around to find Mason watching me.

  “Here.” I shove the box at him, and he catches it before it drops to the floor. “There’s no need for you to worry. I don’t want to have your children, if that’s what worries you. Not planning on trapping you.” I grip my shoulders while hugging my chest, as if protecting me from whatever he’ll say. My eyes fight the tears forming inside my throat, I’ll allow myself to break down later.

  ‘If you hurt, don’t hurt. Never forget that, AJ.’ I repeat several times. This is too hard, too many steps all at the same time.

  “You don’t want my babies? I mean, you don’t understand.” He clears his throat and closes his eyes for a few breaths. Mason reads the box and then stares at me.

  “I have an IUD. Sure you can Google it and find out that no little Masons will happen after yesterday.” Or ever, I hear those last two words in my head. I’m juggling the worst case scenarios here—breaking up right now, or what if they do fail? I’m pretty unlucky when it comes to statistics.

  “If by any chance all fails.” I react, controlling my tone so it doesn’t sound like I’m lashing back at him. “I can take care of myself. I’m old enough and capable to care for a baby. Can you leave, please?”

  Mason flinches, his shoulders slump. It’s as if my words were a hand slapping him across the face again and again.

  ‘Perhaps we should stop seeing each other,’ my brain wants to plead. My heart doesn’t allow those words to come out of my mouth. I bite my cheek because this is a sore subject and he knows it. Not that he ever cared much about Porter’s baby, but he did accompany me during the ordeal. The tears remain at bay. I’m sure when he leaves I’m going to be a freakish mess.

  He doesn’t move and stares at me with those gray, almond shaped eyes. After taking several breaths, he throws the box with the second pill inside the trash can. “I took care of you and James,” he whispers. My jaw drops; he never talks about him. We don’t touch the past. “Maybe I didn’t do a great job with our pea. But if you were pregnant with my kid, I’d do my best. This time we wouldn’t lose the baby.”

  It’s a promise, and I’m torn between what I want to hear or what I should believe. He’s a nutcase. He’s calling James ours. He’s toying with me, isn’t he? A voice inside my head howls, I can’t keep this up any longer.

  “I hate this, our situation.” I snap out of the mousy voice, and I’m back to myself. “You’re making me walk through fragile glass, and I fear it’ll shatter with anything I may say wrong. So we had sex without a condom, the world won’t end. I sometimes wash your clothes, cook for you, or invite you to stay over. We’re a fucking couple, we share things and spend time together. I’m not asking for much. But if as much as a sound like ‘I love you’ happens in front of others, you freak. As of right now, I have no idea what we really are. If I say the wrong thing, or do something out of the ordinary, you swear I will expect so much more from you. I can’t live like this, Mason Bradley.”

  This is the moment I have to pull the plug and save myself.

  “I had a hideous relationship with Porter. Having to watch what I said to keep him happy was an experience I don’t want to repeat.”

  Mason stares at me, and I decide to continue.

  “All I ask for is a grown-up relationship. That’s easy enough, isn’t it? If you leave your toothbrush here, your shoes or whatever, nothing bad will happen.” I point at his luggage, which I want to suggest we wash together. “There’s plenty of room in my closet and drawers for your stuff,” I continue. “That doesn’t mean anything other than you’ll be sleeping in a king size bed with the comforts of a house and a regular relationship. I need to have peace and stop worrying about what I say or do, making sure nothing will trigger another jerk-ass reaction from you.”

  He scans me, looks around the house, then to his luggage and finally he settles back on me.

  “I’m learning that there are things that freak me out, and you have to understand that this is all new.” His body leans slightly, the tips of his fingers touch his chest, then mine, and it slides all the way to my belly before it ends on the side of his body. “I had a serious relationship, but never had a connection with her. It scares me. Mostly, I fear the outcome. The aftermath when this ends. When I lose you.”

  When this ends? How soon will that happen? Why do we have to end it?

  “Look, I hate to do this, but I have to go to the office.” Mason checks his watch. “This isn’t over. We aren’t over, my Nine. I want to discuss it further.” He takes a few steps. Our bodies are once again occupying the same space, and he winks at me. “Talk, communicate; just the way you like it. Please, don’t shut me down, Nine, or kick me out of your bed again. A night without you is a fucking nightmare.”

  His ambivalence is going to kill me. I wish I could learn how to reverse love and instead of loving him more every day, love him less.

  I slide my car inside Ainse’s garage, grab the gifts I’m bearing and head to search for that girl who’s shattering my world and trying to build her own while she’s at it. My mind is telling me to run away while the rest of me wants more.

  She’s in the living room, sitting on the couch folding clothes while humming some unknown tune.

  “Hey,” I greet her.

  Ainse lifts her head slightly; her eyes settle on my gifts.

  “You brought me flowers?” She frowns as if I had brought her a bag of trash. “I mean, they are cute but…”

  “The orchids are indoor plants, safe for Toby,” I explain what the florist had said when clueless Mason Bradley stepped inside her store. “The African violets, I thought you might want to plant them in the backyard, they’ll be delivering more of them tomorrow unless you don’t like them.”

  “They’re alive?”

  “Why would I bring you dead flowers? You’d hate them.”

  The wall she had set yesterday after I was the biggest asshole in the world crumbles. I’ve heard the saying of finding a woman who will be different than the others. So distinctive that pleasure and sex mean nothing in comparison of what that certain woman will make you feel when you touch her, kiss her, or make love to her. I stop because my mind can’t go there, or I’ll leave this house and may never come back. Today is all that matters, being together, enjoying each second of it.

  “I swear I won’t freak out again.” I begin my groveling expedition back to her good side. “My cars will stay here. If you give me space, I can leave some of my clothes. I won’t buy more condoms. Let’s have fun together, living the moment. What do you say?”

  Her eyes shift from elation to sadness, then worry. “If you mean it, I’ll be thrilled.” Her sweet voice is back, but shaky. Fear of something, and I have no idea what or how to reassure her that she should never be afraid of me. “Sorry for sounding like an insensitive bitch, but you toy with my feelings on a daily basis, and I can’t take it.”

  I pull her into my arms, push her to the empty couch, and catch her mout
h, devouring her. Ainse doesn’t complain, a throaty moan escapes her. The sexy noises she makes bring my cock to life. Her hands grip my hair as I start pulling up the skirt she wears. In a fraction of a second, I change my mind and decide to strip her bare, leaving only her red lace bra and the matching pair of panties. Panties which disappear with one swift movement. I bury my face between her thighs tasting her divine nectar. The urgency to be inside her pushes me to work faster with my tongue and my fingers. Moans and groans fill the room as my digits sink deeper into her. Her lungs labor for air and her muscles tighten around my fingers.

  “Mase,” she screams my name between pants. Urgency and need surging from her moans, she bucks hard against my face. “Please, I need you inside.”

  I strip down, but she sits and pats the cushion. “I want a ride on the Mase express.”

  She straddles me, pressing her tits against my face and riding me furiously, up and down. I devour her hardened nipples that taste like a goddess’ would. Digging her nails into my shoulders, she clings to me and continues her ravishing attack. I match her rhythm, pushing inside her, and I feel her walls start contracting, milking my cock. I can’t take it anymore as both of us fall over the edge into oblivion. The tremors and quakes continue. Her limbs go limp and her face rests in the crook of my neck.

  I love when she’s wild, nothing inhibits her; never holding back.

  “I…” she presses her lips against my shoulder and remains quiet.

  For the first time, she doesn’t say ‘I love you,’ and my heart aches. After the fear of losing her, I need her to whisper those three words. Three words that remind me for now her heart belongs to me, I’m loved. I order myself to stop being a prick. I can’t ask her for what I can’t give in return.

  Live for the moment, I repeat myself. “Second round in your room?” I propose, staring at her limp body.

  She lifts her head and our eyes finally meet, there’s moisture in her eyes, but the tears aren’t falling. I see fear. Hurt.