by M. R. Joseph
We walk through the bathroom doors and I’m already a mess. The tears start as soon as I shut the door and lock it.
“Oh, sweetie, I’m didn’t mean to be so forward and upset you, I just want to know what kind of secret you are keeping that’s so terrible that you would risk jeopardizing your writing career. Please don’t cry.”
My eyes sting and my heart already aches at the prospect of Luca finding out, knowing that he will want nothing to do with me.
“Ok. I’ll tell you. The men in my books, the ones who receive my letters are based on a real person.”
“Oh really? Well, who is it? Someone you know?”
“Yes, very much, in fact I’m in love with him. I have been for years, since high school. I started writing him letters after I got to know him from an altercation he rescued me from. We had a class together, and he was everything I ever could have wanted in someone. He was kind, smart, beautiful, popular, everything I wasn’t.”
“Did you ever tell him, or is it just like the characters in your books?”
I wipe my nose with a tissue, and she swipes her finger under my eyes.
“No, I never told him. I was a nothing, a nobody. Why would someone like Luca Ferro ever love me? I wrote the letters for years, a few times a week, until he was in college. I stopped because I had to get over him.” I blew my nose, and continued.
“When I was in college, I made myself over and guys started to pay attention to me. I was promiscuous, and I eventually got over him, but when I came back here, I met him again and realized maybe I wasn’t so over him after all. He had no idea who I was, and he certainly doesn’t know that I write the books. We got to know each other and well…”
“You are in love, aren’t you?”
“Yes, we are. It’s better than any dream I could ever have, better than any fantasy, and reality, any hope I had in my heart. It’s real, he loves me as much as I love him. My feelings never changed, they even intensified. Now I’m so scared to tell him the truth, to tell him I’m the author of the ‘Letters of Love’ series because they are all based on the letters I wrote to him for all those years. If he finds out I’m Brianna Maxwell, we will be over. Do you understand why I can’t, Katherine? My life will be over, and I have finally found the one person who doesn’t give a shit if I’m hot or not, or how much money I have. Luca loves me for me.”
“So you were afraid to tell him you loved him for fear of rejection because you thought you weren’t compatible with his social status?”
“Exactly, but now I have him, he’s the love of my life, I see myself spending my life with him, and I’m not the shy little editor of the school newspaper anymore. I’m the confident woman who loves a man, who loves me back.”
“Oh, Leighton. I do understand. Don’t you think you could try and explain it to him, he may understand?”
“No way. Now I know how much those letters affected his life. I don’t see how he could understand.”
“Ok. I would like to think that if he loves you as much as he says he does, he would understand, but I’ll take your word for it. I can’t force you to make any decisions about this, but please think about what you’re giving up. A budding writing career, possible movie deals somewhere in the future, travel, money, fame. Think about whether it is worth it.”
There is no hesitation in my answer, “It’s worth everything to have Luca. I’ll give it all up for him, for our love, I’m going to tell him but not until after I go to New York for the big tour. Can we deal with the questioning until then? Just let me be able to enjoy us for a while longer.”
“I don’t really get it, and I guess that’s why I’m still single, but I respect it. Yes, I’ll hold back the hungry lions until September, but after that, you need to decide, sweetie. Just so you know, I’m happy you’re in love.” Katherine hugs me, and I freshen myself up again before leaving the bathroom. I feel a little better now. We sit back down and I eat my pancakes that are waiting for me.
“So your reunion is this weekend? Are you excited?”
“Very. I have a feeling it’s going to be unforgettable.”
I guess little miss goody two shoes, isn’t so goody goody after all. Guess she should have checked under the stalls before spilling her guts to whomever she was speaking to. Stupid bitch. Well that little liar let the cat out of the bag. She’s the famous writer Brianna Maxwell. She writes the ‘Letters of Love’ books and her identity has been a mystery ever since the series first came out. It’s all over the news. I have read them, and unfortunately, they are great books, and I hate her now for it.
Her books are about Luca, my Luca, and I realize now why I loved them so much. I loved him way before her, and I almost had him to myself, again, before she got in the middle of us.
She acts so sweet, she gives me a toothache, her shy, proper style, batting her fucking eyelashes at him every chance she gets. She has his love, and what do I get, the ‘let’s be friends’ speech, well no more. I know the truth. All those books are based on Luca, the letters she wrote to him apparently, and when he finds out it was her, that will be the end of them. I’ll crush her like the bug she is, right under my shoe. Worthless little nerd. Some people don’t change. Once a geek, always a geek, no matter how many pairs of Gucci sandals you have, or how much expensive makeup you put on your face. She’s still a nothing.
I have loved Luca since we were in grade school. I followed him everywhere, did whatever I could to get his attention. Hell, I even got a new set of tits when I got him the position of head baseball coach. I had to blow the superintendent of schools for six months before they gave it to him, but a tired jaw was worth it to be able to see him as often as I do. When I did get him into my bed, he was the best fuck I ever had, even as drunk as I had gotten him that night, he still was fantastic.
I know our relationship only lasted a month or so, but when I would go to Lucky’s and he would be working, we always wound up staying after hours. I’d pretend to be drunk and he would truly be three sheets to the wind and we’d wind up doing it in his office.
He must have been going through some kind of depression, especially when he first came home after his second injury because he wanted absolutely nothing to do with me once he sobered up. He realized I wasn’t for him, and it hurt, so my skirts got shorter, and the tits got bigger. I’ve been trying for years to get him back, to see me, but all he sees now is that little bitch, and he loves her? But he’s supposed to love me, damn it. I have to finds a way to destroy them. I have to make her wish she were never born. I’ll knock her off her high horse and everyone will know what a fucking liar Leighton Parks really is, especially Luca.
Just call me a man in love. That’s me. Luca Ferro, in love, for the first time in my life. I’ve found the one, the one who completes me, and who loves me back. Sometimes it just comes up so unexpected, like a flash of lightening that appears without warning. It scares you at first then you just sit back and enjoy the show. Leighton is something unexpected.
Every second I spend with her is more amazing than the last. At night when I hold her in my arms and we drift to sleep, I pray that my slumber passes by quickly so when I wake, I can look at her, see her roll over, stretch her arms above her head, gaze at her shimmering, soft skin, and wait till she opens her blazing eyes at me and whisper, “Good morning, love.” My favorite. Just those three words stir me into a frenzy. Like right now, the sun is coming up, its rays displayed on her shoulder and I wait.
When my beautiful sunshine begins to stir, my anticipation grows. She rolls over, and I see her eyes blink and focus to the light. When she opens them, they sparkle and her nose crinkles in that way that sets my heart into overdrive.
“Good morning, handsome.”
“Good morning, mia bella.”
She stretches over and wraps her arms across my chest. I kiss the top of her head and feel the warmth of her body against mine.
“Oh how I love it when you talk to me in Italian.”
I know she doe
s, as she hooks her leg over my bare thigh and begins to rub her hot center against it. I can feel her wetness and her naked breasts on my skin.
“I know you love it, and I also know how you love it when I talk like this:
“Hear my soul speak:
The very instant that I saw you, did
My heart fly to your service.”
“Ahh, The Tempest I see. Trying to butter me up are we?”
I stroke her hair, and make my way down her side with my hands. I drift to her hip, turn my hand towards the inside of her thigh, and I find her soaked at my fingertips. She moans when I give her the slightest contact. All the pleasure I feel comes from giving her what she wants, and it’s me she desires. It’s the way she runs her hands over my flesh, how she manages to stroke my hair in that certain way, it makes my body come alive. As I enter her with my finger, she is molten inside, drenched from arousal, and her muscles convulse around me, her hips thrusting into my hand. We don’t speak, it’s not a necessity, only touching, only feeling, and the bliss that will soon follow.
As she arches her neck giving me access to it, I lick and suck on the exposed skin, her nails, digging into my hip. Her other hand reaches across and takes my hardness, stroking it, faster and faster, then her pace slows down.
“Please, Luca, touch me more, I need you.”
And I need her just as much as she needs me, maybe even more. I do as she commands, making her body jolt beneath me. Her hand quickens around my cock, and I’m almost there, but my need to be inside of her over takes me, and I flip her around in one smooth maneuver. She’s under me now, and clawing at the sheets, her body shudders and I spread her thighs. I’m inside her within seconds. Her warmth surrounds me, and just her skin on my skin makes me want to stay this way forever.
She runs her nails down my back, towards my ass, and she squeezes. I keep my thrusts small, then hard and fast, sending her into space. Her eyes roll back as I waste no time making her come around me. My body convulses as I can’t hold back any more and I empty into her, crying out her name as I do. I collapse on top of her, sweating, panting, and dizzy.
I kiss her face and she wraps her arms around my neck. I press my forehead to hers and catch my breath, it’s difficult to do, because she steals it from me so often.
“Move in with me.” I just blurt it out with no hesitation. Her eyes grow big and her jaw is a gape.
“Move in with you? Like live together move in?”
“Yes. Like move in, sleep in one bed, cook meals together, watch trash T.V. every night, tooth brushes in one holder. What do you think?”
“What do I think?” She looks at me puzzled and my heart is racing, perspiration is forming on my brow, and I’m not sure what her answer is going to be. Damn it. I know I rushed into asking her. She may run now, I should prepare for it. My fucking mouth always acts before my brain does, or should I say my heart does.
She pulls my face down, her long fingers entwined in my hair, and our lips touch, a slow, lingering, soul sucking kiss begins, and it’s one that only Leighton can deliver. When she pulls away, she smiles at me and whispers, “Yes. Let’s do it.”
“Whoo, hoo!” I fist pump in the air like a total nerd and take her face in my hands and kiss the hell out of her. We laugh and roll around on the sweat soaked sheets. I can smell her scent on them, and it’s so intoxicating, I never want to wash them again.
“Whoo hoo? I take it you’re happy then?”
“Hell yes, I’m happy. I get to see that face as often and as much as I want to now, but what do you think about moving? Maybe getting something bigger down the line?”
“I’d love that.” She turns to me and is perched on her elbow, and I do the same so now we are face to face.
“Where do you want to go?” I ask her.
“Where do you want to go?” She wrinkles up that adorable nose of hers.
I trace lazily circles on her shoulder, gooseflesh forms on her and I love that my touch does it to her, how it makes her react in such a way.
“Sweetheart, I could live in a cardboard refrigerator box with you and be happy. Let’s start looking after the reunion. How’s that sound?”
“I think it’s perfect, just like you.” She pokes my nose with the tip of her finger.
“I’m far from it, my love, but hey, you want to see perfection, take a look in the mirror.”
She throws herself back on the pillow, and sighs, and I’m not sure of her reaction to my calling her perfect.
“Luca, I’m very far from perfect and before we go any further with this conversation I think we need to talk about something. I need to tell you - “
She’s about to tell me something but my damn cell phone starts ringing. I reach for it and see that it’s the head chef at the restaurant.
“Baby, hold on one second. It’s Trey the head chef. It must be about the food for tonight. I’ll be right back.”
I go into the living room and talk to Trey to see what the problem could be at nine a.m. Here it’s not a catastrophe, but I’ll have to go in a lot earlier than expected for tonight. I go back in the bedroom, and I see that Leighton has fallen back asleep. I go over to her and sit on the edge of the bed. I run my hands over her disheveled hair. I trace her hairline, down to cheek, across her jaw, to the small cleft in her chin. I talk aloud like she’s awake and can hear me, my voice is tiny, but strong enough to say what I want to say.
“Leighton, I never thought I could love something so much, in such little time. I kept telling my heart to be patient, the one will come to me, and you did. You are that one. You stole my heart, and I by no means want it back. It belongs to you.” I kiss her head and whisper, “I love you, baby.”
I go take a shower and write her a note telling her that I had to go to the restaurant and help get things set up for the reunion. As I make my way out to my car, I see Wes and Kenzie pull up. I walk over to them, and shake Wes’s hand, and pull Kenzie in for a hug.
“Hey guys. Good to see you.”
“You too, man. Where you off to?”
“One of my cooks called out sick and I have to go help prepare the food for tonight. I’m glad you guys are coming.”
“Me too. Where’s my sister?”
“She fell back asleep. I wrote her a note telling her where I’m going. What do you have there, Kenzie?”
“Oh this? It’s a book that just came out that everyone’s talking about. Have you ever heard of Brianna Maxwell?”
“Kind of. Romance series, right? The author is remaining anonymous, but I’m not sure what the stories are about.”
“Oh, real quick. It’s a about a girl who has been in love with this guy forever and she writes - “ My cell starts to ring again.
“Oh, shit, sorry, it’s the restaurant calling again. I better go. I’ll see you guys later. Can you just do me a favor and tell my girl that I love her?”
They smile at me and Wes wraps his arm around Kenzie. “Sure man, no problem.”
I jog to my car and make my way to Lucky’s. It’s mass chaos when I get there. People are running around, setting the tables, hanging pictures from the yearbook throughout the restaurant, and putting the reunion name tags out on a table near the entrance. I’m helping in the kitchen, chopping veggies, counting the meals, and making sure the bars are fully stocked. It’s almost showtime when I see Val walk in, well run in, frantically.
“Luca, Luca. Oh, God. Everything is just a mess, just a big mess.”
“Val, calm down. What is the problem? Everything has been running smoothly.”
“The ice sculptures, Luca. We can’t use them now because they are melting right on the spot. This is a travesty. I had one made into the shape of our school.”
“Oh, Christ, Val. A travesty is those little kids in Africa covered in flies or a natural disaster. This is none of the above. Breathe and relax. Everything will be ok.” She seems to calm a little.
“Ok. I’m fine. You always know how to make me feel better.”
> Here she goes again, talking breathless, and looking at me with those hooded eyes. Things with Val will never change. As many times as I tell her I’m not interested, that I’m in love with someone else, it doesn’t matter.
“Alright, well I’m going to get changed. People will be here soon. It’s going to a memorable night, Val. Don’t worry.”
“Oh, that it will. I’ll make sure of it.”
She walks away, thank God, and I go quickly shower and change in my office. When I’m done, I walk around checking last minute things. Everything looks good. The tables look tremendous, and I’ll give Val the credit for getting the flowers for the table in the shape of the numbers 2003 for the year we graduated.
I love looking at all the old pictures hanging up. I see a lot of me, and it sort of makes me feel a little uncomfortable. I scan around and find pictures of me playing ball, me as homecoming king, which I hated, me and my friends, I cringe when I actually find a few of me and Val, her in her cheerleader uniform. Then I remember, she’s the one who picked out all the photos. I see one that I have to get closer to really see it, but when I study it, when I really look at it, it’s a picture of me after a game, on the field being interviewed by a reporter, but I look to the left of the photograph, it’s black and white but I can see her eyes, and I know it’s her, it’s Leighton. In the picture she has on a baseball cap, her hair is covered with the exception of a few loose strands on the sides, but it’s her face. I see the way she looks, and it’s at me. Her expression makes me look into the depth of it and it’s a look of endearment. It tells a story, the way she is biting her lip, the way her head is turned towards me. She looks at me in the picture like she’s meant to be next to me, and I can’t explain it. To describe someone’s expression in a photograph is difficult, but in this one, those orbs of hers, show longing, vulnerability, familiarity. And now I wait for that beautiful creature to walk through the door, with that look on her face, like I see here in this picture. I repeat to myself again. Like in this picture.