by Hazel Kelly
But that didn’t matter. Not right now. Not when I was trying to enjoy the moment, a moment I’d been waiting a stupid amount of time for, a moment I was convinced would never happen. But despite the odds- whatever they were- it was happening.
Aiden and I were naked in bed together with our taste on each other’s lips. It was so crazy that if I actually thought about it properly my head would’ve exploded. Fortunately, my brain was far too fuzzy from champagne bubbles to process the true spectacle and gravity of the situation I was in.
However, in my slightly sleepy, inebriated state, I was convinced that I could’ve given him an even better blow job which gave me some hope. Because now that I’d gone and done it, loads more tips from the article kept popping into my head, reminding me about things I was supposed to do with his balls when I was down there that I totally forgot about.
Like it suggested pursing your lips on the skin of his ball sack and licking that line between them which completely slipped my mind. Granted, the sensory overload was a bit much so I’m lucky I was able to think as clearly as I did, but I might have to do all kinds of research now to keep him on his toes.
After all, that would be vital. He tended to get bored easily, and I knew it. And while he hadn’t tired of me in the last fifteen years, I didn’t want him to lose interest now that I was putting out. My self-esteem couldn’t handle a blow like that.
Speaking of blow, it wasn’t long before Aiden started to make these funny noises in his sleep, some of which involved him exhaling through a tiny gap between his lips that formed from his face being crushed against the pillow.
At least it wasn’t snoring.
But it was still strangely foreign to me.
I mean, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d actually spent the night with someone, the last time I’d heard another person breathing so close to me in the dark. But despite how unusual it was for me, there was something sort of comforting about it, about being so close to someone.
And I did feel close to him. Perhaps closer than I ever had.
But that didn’t change the fact that the same demons were keeping me awake, making me want to sneak around, making me want to disappear.
Because I didn’t want him to see my scar.
He’d seen enough of me to last him a lifetime over the last few hours as it was. And lucky for me, he liked what he saw, but I desperately wanted to keep it that way.
Unfortunately, his legs were wrapped up in mine and his arm was laying over the dip of my waist. If I moved, he would wake up. Besides, what was I going to do? Put my dress back on? Sneak back to my room and return with my pajamas? How totally off the radar weird would that be?
I could put his shirt on except I didn’t think it was really within my rights to wear part of his finest suit. And a toga wouldn’t hide it unless it was haphazardly wrapped. Plus, even if I knew how to tie one, I didn’t know how to remove a layer of sheets from the bed while we were in it.
And then it hit me. This was a swanky hotel. There were probably slippers and robes in the closet. There had to be. They had a spa here and a heated outdoor pool. Yes. There must be robes. That’s what I would do. I would get up in the morning before he did and slip on a robe and that wouldn’t be unusual at all. It would just be silly Lucy enjoying her five star stay.
Perfect.
It was the best way to keep things light in the morning. Otherwise, he would ask me about it. I knew he would. And I would have to tell him the truth because the barbed wire story would never work on him.
And I didn’t want him to think he’d slept with a crazy person or that I was suicidal or something. Because I wasn’t. I just used to be crazy, but I couldn’t tell him that because it sounded too much like the kind of thing a crazy person would say.
I wasn’t crazy though. I was just a little damaged and angsty after my Mom died. That’s all. It was understandable that I would’ve had a hard time coping. However, the fact that I did this by cutting myself wasn’t exactly normal or endearing.
And while I was pretty sure everyone was a little bit unhinged, I was also sure that the population as a whole was in agreement that hiding one’s crazy was the right thing to do for the good of society. And who better to spare than our loved ones? Especially the ones that had us on a pedestal… or in their bed?
Anyway, once I had a plan, I felt better and my worries subsided. And it wasn’t long before I was relaxed enough to enjoy the warmth of Aiden’s body, close my eyes, and listen to the rhythm of his breath.
Chapter 4: Aiden
I smelled her before I even opened my eyes, smiling as I inhaled the scent of her faded perfume mixed with sex and sweat. It was nice. So nice I wished my whole apartment smelled that way.
When I finally did open my eyes, she was resting on the pillow across from me. I desperately wanted to lift the comforter and peek to make sure I hadn’t imagined her gorgeous body, but I didn’t dare let any cool air under the covers in case it would disturb her. Plus, it looked like she was curled up in the fetal position so I’d have to wait until she woke up to get a good look anyway.
And for the moment, I was happy to watch her sleep. Her face was crushed against the pillow and her eyelashes made subtle movements as she slept, like she was watching a movie on the back of her eyelids. Her slightly parted lips looked fat, and I was desperate to drag my finger across them but I restrained myself.
A split second later, my mind flashed back to the only night she ever slept over when we were in high school. She hadn’t meant to, but we played video games until three in the morning drinking warm Heinekens I’d stolen one at a time from the mini fridge in my Dad’s spare garage. Eventually, we just sort of passed out. She left in the morning before my parents woke up, but not before I had a chance to watch her sleeping.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she looked as young and innocent that morning as she did this one.
But I did know better. Or at least I knew she wasn’t innocent now. She probably wasn’t then either. I just didn’t know. But even if her innocence was up for debate, it was no secret that she was delicate, more delicate than she ever let on.
And I felt lucky to be one of the few people she felt comfortable being vulnerable with, especially because I knew that kind of closeness and trust didn’t come easily to her.
But last night did. Whatever the hell Pandora’s box we’d opened, we’d broken the lid off and there was no going back. Not now that I’d seen what she could do with her body, her mouth, her tongue. I hadn’t had it that good in as long as I could remember.
The best part was that it felt like she genuinely enjoyed making me feel good. Sometimes I felt like girls just put out as a means to an end- cause they were desperate for a boyfriend, or a Valentine, or access to my bank account. But I didn’t get that feeling from Lucy. I didn’t get the sense that she was just going through the motions.
After all, I knew she wasn’t afraid of being alone, and she’d never had any interest in my money since my parent’s stopped getting season tickets to Six Flags when we were twelve. Though if I recall, she was pretty disappointed about that.
But it felt good to know she liked me for me, that she was attracted to me because she knew what I was, not just who I was. And whether her feelings had come out of nowhere or they’d always been lurking under the surface didn’t concern me. All that mattered was that I felt the same way.
I only wish I’d felt it sooner. Then again, maybe if I hadn’t dated all those vacant social climbers, I wouldn’t have appreciated having her in my bed as much as I did now.
Hopefully I hadn’t snored. I’d been told alcohol made it worse, and I probably drank enough at the wedding to fill one of the golf course’s small water features, but it would’ve been nice if she’d been spared.
Oh well. Maybe she was passed out enough not to be bothered either way. She certainly was now. And god knows I’d tried to exhaust every inch of her inside and out.
As I watched her slee
p, I couldn’t help but think that there was something extra special about waking up beside her, but it took me a while to figure out what it was. After all, I’d woken up next to more women then I could count.
But this time was different because I didn’t feel lonely. For years, the fact that I could wake up next to a beautiful woman and still feel lonely bothered me, especially because I knew it was enough for other guys. I thought I might be defective.
Still, I couldn’t shake the fact that something was always missing, and I didn’t know how to fix it.
Frankly, I’d felt lonely waking up next to Chelsea for the last six months of our relationship. Except now I knew why that was. Cause she wasn’t really there. She had checked out.
But Lucy was there. And maybe that was why it felt like the void was filled. Whatever it was, I didn’t feel alone when she was around. Not that morning, not ever. And this was as great a realization as any I’d had the night before.
With the grace of a tiptoeing bear, I slipped out from under the covers and walked over to the closet by the door. I couldn’t be bothered putting all my clothes on just to run a simple errand so I slid the door open as softly as I could and dragged one of the towely robes off the hanger. The wooden hanger banged against the back wall and I grabbed it, squeezing my eyes shut like it might help make the noise stop.
Then I held it in my hand as tightly as I held my breath.
Lucy didn’t stir.
I released the hanger gently and slipped the robe on. Then I slipped a room key in my pocket and walked out the door.
As soon as I closed it silently, I looked down and shook my head. I had neither shoes nor slippers on, just my dress socks. Fuck it. I was only going to be gone five minutes. As long as I didn’t run into my mother, I’d be fine.
As I rounded the corner to the elevators, the little old lady from yesterday was standing there with a small rolling suitcase.
“We can’t keep meeting like this,” I joked.
“Don’t worry. I’m checking out.”
“You sure you aren’t stalking me?”
She smiled and her face wrinkled like a raisin. “If only I were fast enough on my feet.”
I laughed.
“And your heart wasn’t already taken.”
I shrugged.
She looked down at my feet and then up at my face. “You in a hurry again this morning?”
“No,” I said. “Just absentminded.”
She opened her large purse like it was full of critters she didn’t want to release and pulled out some hotel shampoo bottles and transferred them to her other hand. Then she dug around some more and pulled out her hotel slippers which were still sealed in plastic and handed them to me.
“You’re welcome,” she said, tossing her smuggled toiletries back in.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Yes I do,” she said. “I can’t be seen with you like this.”
I rolled my eyes and put the slippers on. They looked absolutely appalling with my black dress socks.
“Much better,” she said as the elevator doors opened.
“I got it,” I said, grabbing her bag.
She nodded and walked onto the elevator, pressing the button and stepping to the side.
“Did you have a pleasant stay?” I asked as the doors closed.
“Very,” she said. “And I already know you did.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I did.”
The doors opened to the lobby and she grabbed the handle of her bag in a way that made it clear my services were no longer needed.
“Have a safe trip home.”
“Thanks,” she said. “And good luck to you.”
I didn’t waste a minute walking over to reception.
“Good morning, Barry,” I said, wondering why it couldn’t have been his day off.
“Good morning, Mr. Briggs.”
Better. “As you can see, I’m not quite ready to be out and about today, but I need an urgent favor.”
He nodded.
“My sister- the bride and her husband- would like to have some of their wedding cake in bed, and I’ve been sent to fetch it for them.” I don’t know what made me say fetch. Perhaps I was trying to compensate for my informal dress with overly affected speech.
“Certainly sir. Will I send it up to their room with some champagne?”
“That won’t be necessary. Two thick slices of cake is all they want,” I said. “I’ll deliver it myself.”
“I’ll be right back,” Barry said, leaving his desk unmanned.
A few wedding guests stepped off the elevator in their breakfast finest, and I turned away so as not to be detected as they made their way to the dining room.
Barry returned with the cake in reasonable time, and I thanked him, slipping the forks in my pocket so I could focus on carrying the plates to the elevator. How anyone ever managed more than two plates at once was beyond me. Thank god I hadn’t been sucked in by his offer of champagne.
Clearly, the old lady with the funny timing was my good luck charm because I made it all the way back to the room without running into anyone, and after putting one of the slices of cake down, I was able to use the key and push the door open.
I slipped one of the slippers off in front of the door so it wouldn’t slam behind me, set the plates down so I could close it properly, and then picked the plates up and put them on the nightstand.
When I turned towards Lucy, I saw that she had changed positions so that she was stretched across the bed like a flying squirrel, her hair and limbs extended in all different directions.
And then my stomach dropped.
There were violent scars on the inside of her arm, so thick and numerous that the sight of them made my eyes burn.
Chapter 5: Lucy
It was time to cut the cake, and I was in the front row. It was towering above me on a round table that looked as if it had been built just to display it. Curls of white chocolate lattice work cascaded over the edges as fluidly as if they hadn’t yet hardened and the voices of the crowd dropped to a whisper.
Claire and Dave both had their hands on the cake slicer, and they were about to sink the knife into the base layer when Claire stopped and looked up.
“Wait,” she said, putting her free hand on Dave’s shoulder. “Let’s let Lucy do it?”
“No,” I said. “I couldn’t.”
“I think that’s a great idea,” Dave said, beckoning me over with his hand. “You should do it.”
I could feel everyone’s eyes on me as I walked over to the cake. Even Mr. and Mrs. Briggs seemed happy for me to cut it.
“Are you sure?” I asked as Dave handed me the knife.
“Of course,” Claire said. “I would be so honored if you would.”
I took a deep breath and laid the sharp edge down on the icing so gently it gave a little before the edge of the slicer broke through. The cake was dense but spongy and when I dragged the slicer out to make the second cut, the mild vanilla scent of the cake wafted up my nostrils. As I inhaled, I noticed some streaks on the slicer that gave away the fact that there was a hidden layer of fresh strawberries that I didn’t even know about.
And just as I was about to make the second cut I looked up and saw Aiden’s face. He was standing in front of the other guests just a few feet away, and he looked absolutely horrified that I was cutting his sister’s cake.
I opened my eyes and exhaled. It wasn’t true. That never happened. I didn’t even go near the cake. Plus, Aiden didn’t look horrified at all. On the contrary, he was sitting on the edge of the bed smiling down at me.
“Hey,” I said, my first words scratching their way out of my throat.
“Hey,” he said. “How did you sleep?”
“Good. You?”
“Like a log,” he said. “I brought you some breakfast in bed.” He cocked his head towards the nightstand.
I rolled my head to the side and smiled. “Is that the wedding cake?”
“
Yep.”
I sighed. “I was just dreaming about that.”
“That’s disappointing. I was sure from the look on your face that you were dreaming of me.”
“That, too,” I said. “You were there.”
I stretched my arms up over my head and my eyes went wide when I realized I could feel the cool air on my bare skin. I tucked my scarred arm under the covers in one swift motion, hoping I wasn’t too late.
“Have you been up long?” I asked, noticing that Aiden was in a terry cloth robe.
“Just long enough to get us some cake.”
“That was very sweet of you.”
He laughed. “As if you were leaving here without trying the wedding cake.”
“So you only got it cause you’re trying to avoid a scene?”
“Or a tantrum,” he said. “I know how you get when everyone gets cake but you.”
“I’m not that bad.”
“Are you kidding? Remember Sylvia Martin’s graduation party?”
“Vaguely.”
“Well I do,” he said. “You were so pissed the cookie cake disappeared before you got some I thought you were going to make me throw my piece up.”
“You would’ve deserved it for eating cake behind my back.”
“I can’t even enjoy cake since that day unless you get a piece, too.”
“As it should be,” I said.
“I went to a party recently- I don’t know if I told you this- and the host had made all these cake pops-”
I pursed my lips.
“I almost asked Chelsea to put some in her purse for you.”
I laughed. “That would’ve gone down well.”
“Well it’s not like she would’ve eaten them.”
“True.”
“Unfortunately, she had one of those stupid small purses that doesn’t even have a strap.”
“So it would’ve been ruined.”
“Yeah,” he said. “The purse and the cake pops.”
“So what did you do?”
“I didn’t try them.”
“Are you serious?”