by Mara White
“I had a roommate, but he left to work abroad and I liked the privacy, I guess.”
“Yeah, who wouldn’t?”
Back in the kitchen, Salana opened the double doors of her stainless steel refrigerator and pulled out two cold beers. After popping the caps off, she handed one to Tiago.
“Do you mind if I shower really quickly?”
Tiago smiled and slowly shook his head no.
Hot water pounded against her back while Salana scrubbed away the sweat and anxiety. She thought about what her parents would think of her allowing Tiago into her apartment, or leaving him alone in the living room while she bathed. She could practically taste their acerbic disapproval. But they already had a history and because of it, an undeniably deep connection. She’d tended to him, sick in the hospital. She believed he’d saved her life in that freezer in Spanish Harlem, protected her instinctively like a loved one or like a lover. And of course, the memories she’d rather forget, the time he took care of her after the abortion. She was absolutely comfortable trusting him, in her house, and in her life. Salana let her hand linger on her stomach. His kiss was unlike anything she’d ever experienced with a man, a magical sort of spell falling over her whenever he was near. He pulled her into a wordless exchange so deep that she got lost in it, recovered only when he’d pulled back and cradled her face, looked into her eyes and lured her back into the moment. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or shock from the injury, but what she’d felt in that kiss, she was sure she wanted more of. He’d done the same with his body when she was drowning in the misery of her own; his touch absolved the guilt, melted away the shame of getting pregnant and worse, not wanting the child.
He hadn’t run off with her jewelry, phone or wallet—he was sitting on the couch, one arm stretched out along the back, his other hand scrolling through his phone. What do you say to a man you want to have sex with? Can I suck your dick? She didn’t think she could be that crass even if she wanted to. He turned when the floorboards creaked under her feet.
“You always drink beer after a run, Salt? Aren’t you supposed to hydrate?” Whenever he spoke to her his face lifted into a grin, like he was amused with every little thing she did. She came around the couch, hair dripping down her back, clothed only in a blue bathrobe. The coffee table revealed just how much he’d made himself at home, as a bag of weed and rolling papers sat waiting expectantly out in the open.
“Only when I want to get wasted,” she said, handing him one. She knocked back a few gulps. That was how she’d tell him. Come sit next to him naked under her bathrobe. It wasn’t subtle. Salana didn’t think subtle would work with him.
“You smoke?” he asked her.
“Not since high school.”
“Is it bad for you, Doc?”
“Smoking anything is bad; medical marijuana is better.”
“The one you sell—that’s convenient. Trying to put me out of business?”
“Oh, I never thought about it like that, but I guess you have a point.”
“You give out prescriptions every day for way harder shit.” He winked, knew he was right and she really couldn’t argue it.
“Is that why you came here? To get a connection? I’m still in residency, Tiago, and I’m not willing to mess that up for anything. So if you want drugs, I’m not your doctor.”
“That’s not the connection I’m looking for. I’m here for you and you know it.”
She looked into his eyes and he held her eye contact with sincerity. She felt warmth spread through her belly. It was brazen by her standards to make a pass at a man, invite him into her home and then practically throw her naked body at him. But Tiago acted as if her behavior were demure, like she was being a perfect lady and fully dressed in her parlor clothes. She craved the comfort she remembered from his arms, yet felt nearly paralyzed with fear at the idea of making the first move. Maybe she should tell him about Eric and their recent split, how she felt about it.
“You look sexy when you’re all wet.” He touched her hair, then patted his lap and Salana curled into him, laying her head on his shoulder in relief.
“I wanted you to hold me since we walked in the door. I didn’t know how to ask you,” she admitted, speaking the words into his neck like a confessional. “Is this weird? Me and you?”
“I think it doesn’t matter what anybody else thinks. Only us.” He had one hand behind her, cradling the back of her head. He pulled her face to his, gripping her lightly by the chin. His kiss was sensual, his lips full and warm. He looked hard on the exterior, but from what Salana had experienced, Tiago was full of tenderness. Maybe he carried a gun, had terrible tattoos, and sagged his pants like a teenager, but he was still a man capable of great empathy and gentleness.
A lazy heat flooded into Salana via his kiss. A connection that signaled caring and emotion, not cheap and dirty sex like she had been guilty of imagining from him. Her hands circled his back and then found their way to his chest. Eric’s tongue had been nothing like this. Tiago’s kiss was curious, testing her boundaries, nipping, sucking and playing. She couldn’t remember for the life of her whether or not she’d ever smiled into a kiss. She giggled and he didn’t stop and ask her, “What?” he just kept on exploring and Salana’s heart raced to keep up with him.
When his hands fell to the tie at her robe, she didn’t stop him; in fact, she might have leaned away to allow him easier access.
“Just tell me if there’s anything you don’t like. Let me know,” Tiago said.
“Okay,” she whispered and then cleared her throat. “Do you want to go to my room?”
He nodded into the kiss instead of speaking, pushed her back onto the sofa and her robe fell all the way open. When his mouth landed on her collarbone her chest heaved in anticipation. She arched into his body and he pressed back, his hips rotating in answer to her call. Her flesh was sensitive from the run and the shower, skin still dewy and heat emanated from her overworked muscles. “Careful, I’m sore,” she said as his hand slid along her ribs. His thumb slid under her breast and then her nipple was lost to his tongue. Sucking, flicking and nipping. It drove her crazy and gave her hips a mind of their own.
“You’ll be more sore tomorrow,” Tiago said. His mouth was equally playful at her other breast and she squirmed as he sucked. She tried not to whimper, but noises were escaping despite her trying her best to contain them. Whether or not he was referring to delayed muscle fatigue or sex, she couldn’t be sure, but she wanted it to be the latter. Every inch of her body felt tender and vulnerable, until she felt his erection against her thigh—then, Salana felt her mouth go dry. Tiago’s cock was no joke. He was impossibly hard and real. It wasn’t just flirting and attraction anymore, sex would be sealing the deal. Then would he be her boyfriend? She was going to date a corner guy in the Heights and what—introduce him to her coworkers, her family? No, definitely not. She was going to have wild, crazy sex with him again and then not see him for another dozen years.
“Jesus, Salt, you killing the mood with that face.”
Her brow was furrowed, her mouth set in a distinct frown. His hand rested on her hip and he stopped teasing her nipples with his devastating mouth.
“I feel conflicted,” she said. What could she tell him?
“Tell me about it,” he said. Tiago moved away from her and pulled her robe closed.
“Is this just for tonight? Or are we going to keep seeing each other?”
“If we fucking want to. How ‘bout that?”
“What if we don’t both want the same thing?”
“Then we talk about it and decide? I don’t know. Listen, Salt, you obviously got a lot on your mind. I don’t want to pressure you or anything like that. I’m not into forcing girls to fuck me if they’re not up for it. I get it. You’re a doctor. Maybe it’s too weird for you.”
She felt even more disappointed hearing him say it than she had felt thinking it. “It’s not because of that!”
“Isn’t it?”
“
I don’t think I’m better than you.”
He stood up and started moving his stash back to his jeans pockets. Salana felt as if she’d destroyed the precious balance that they’d both been teetering on. She didn’t want him to go. Her chest already ached anticipating the loss.
“Would you sleep with me? Just spend the night in my bed?”
He looked at her and brought his arms up across his chest.
“What, and let someone like me get your sheets dirty?” He was being a dick but still playful in his delivery.
“Tiago, stop.”
“Just crash, in the same bed? Yeah, I could do that.” Salana grabbed his arm and he followed her down the hall towards her bedroom.
Chapter 14
Tiago
Salt was a heavy sleeper. She snored quietly with a little rumble in the back of her throat and slept in silk pajamas and her sheets were the softest he’d ever felt. Even the air in her perfect room smelled too good, like some fancy flowers and expensive soap. So this is what it’s fucking like on the other side. Tiago couldn’t sleep for shit and he wasn’t really sure why. He’d never had a girl ask him to spend the night strictly for sleeping, but he figured Salana was in a different category from all the rest. He’d always dated women in his social circle, in contrast, Salana might as well have been from a different planet. This whole thing was going to prove to be a learning experience. Tiago wondered if he should go take a shower to jerk off to rid himself of the perpetual boner that was tenting her slippery sheets.
Funny thing was, he didn’t even want to touch her. He was happy to let her sleep and just listen to her breathing. Salana had her degrees framed and hung up on the walls in her bedroom. It was cute, like she was proud of all her hard work and hung it there just to please herself. Tiago realized Salt was some kind of academic superstar, while he was just a guy from the hood who got lucky and remained under three strikes until they revoked the Rockefeller laws. She was out of his league. Way the fuck out of his league. Maybe she was right and they were weird together—no, strike the maybe, it was really fucking weird for to even want to be seen with him. Forget how they were brought up; it was who they were now that didn’t jive. Salt did rounds tending to the sick and Tiago did rounds four blocks away preying on the poor and weak. Fuck, he thought. Chances of them working out weren’t looking good. But he’d jump over to her side if he could. He wanted to help people, but had always had to help himself. He didn’t know any other way of life, but he wanted to improve.
But if he and Salana weren’t meant to be together, then why did they keep crossing paths? Was it just random—the accidental running into each other?
She rolled over and pulled all of the blankets off of him. Tiago wasn’t used to sleeping with the air conditioner on, and the air felt like a glass of ice water across his skin. Curling up around Salana’s back, however, was easier than he’d thought it would be. She murmured a little when he pulled her in, but she tugged his forearm into her chest like she needed somebody close. It reminded Tiago of their intimate encounter in the deli cooler and of her neediness when they were teenagers. Salana gave off this vibe of strong independence, but when he held her, he encountered something different. She clung to him like a child clings to a parent. Salt might have been feisty, but underneath it all she was vulnerable and maybe she needed someone like Santiago to make her feel safe. He swore to the ceiling as emotion rose in his chest. He’d protect Salana from whatever it was that scared her. He’d be a good man. He’d take care of her.
In the morning it was awkward as fuck. He woke up with another erection and Salt’s room was as bright as a flash bulb with all the sunlight streaming in through the front windows. Maybe there was a good reason for never spending the full night after sex. The magic was gone in the morning—just like Cinderella and the pumpkin. She’d left him a note that she was on call and needed for an emergency at the hospital. Wasn’t everything always an emergency in the ER?
Tiago showered in the bathroom off of her room. He kept expecting someone to walk into the huge apartment because he couldn’t quite wrap his head around the idea that she lived there alone. Either that or the police would just show up to throw him out because he obviously didn’t belong there. A New York City apartment big enough for a huge extended family and only used by one small blonde doctor. His half-sister from his dad had four kids and their place was half the size of hers. He laughed at all the times his family could have used two bathrooms growing up. But even one was a luxury according to his grandmother, who’d grown up in rural PR without plumbing and electricity that was shoddy at best. He didn’t use it, but he smelled her shampoo just for kicks. Later, stepping out of the shower, he sprayed her perfume into the air and caught the scent of it too. Maybe he was being a creep but she wasn’t around to judge and he was curious about what she did and who she really was.
She didn’t have any normal food in the fridge. It was all shit you had to cook or prepare, nothing you could just throw in the microwave. He’d find something on the way home. There was a box of granola bars on the counter, which he imagined her hastily eating as she ducked out the door in her scrubs. He liked real food, preferably meals cooked by his grandmother. He wondered if Salt ever had time to cook. Fuck it. He’d cook for them both if he had to.
SALANA
On her run that night after work it started to rain again, just a little drizzle, but enough to make the jog unpleasant and to sour her mood. She wanted to get home and sniff her pillows, see if his scent still lingered there in her bed. She showered under scalding water and searched the bathroom and bedroom for evidence that he’d really spent the night in her apartment. One of his gold chains was on the nightstand and she smiled. When you want to be invited back, you “accidentally” leave something behind. She wanted him back with a fervor that surprised her.
Of course she’d eventually recognized Tiago in the hospital as the same boy who came to her rescue on the worst day of her life. But the guilt was all-consuming, not only for terminating the pregnancy, but for the way she shamelessly threw herself at the poor kid and devoured his body to block out the pain. It wasn’t like Tiago had protested, but still, she was never that brazen. She thought Julian at her school abroad had been her knight in shining armor, but he was heartless and cold—didn’t care that she was seventeen and pregnant. The power Julian had taken away from her, Salana recovered when she claimed Tiago’s body. Tiago became her salvation because she knew he wouldn’t judge. He took her downtown to the clinic. Went in for the counseling session with her acting as her boyfriend. Held her hand while she shivered on a gurney in a hospital gown feeling like she was on a way to an execution. When the tears began to fall again, he leaned in and kissed her sensually until she lost her fear in his kiss.
After the procedure he called a friend for a ride and a hooptie blasting rap music picked them up outside the clinic. Tiago sat in the back with her while she rested her head on his lap. They’d sent her home in an adult diaper with a prescription for codeine and a warning to watch for infection. Salana was terrified. They both endured the teasing from his friend, who threw a pack of condoms at Tiago’s head and described in detail how to use one. Tiago reached his hand over and cut off the music, punched his friend in the shoulder. They stopped at Duane Reade and picked up all the items on the list the nurse practitioner had given them.
Tiago told his grandmother that they’d eaten bad sushi and stayed up all night checking Salana’s temperature and walking her to the bathroom to vomit or pee or just bleed on the toilet. The giant pads were horrific, the cramping unbearable. She felt suicidal that night, like she’d rather die than go through something so awful. Her only consolation was Santiago. He was practically a stranger and was more attentive and concerned than anyone who supposedly loved her. Salana didn’t want to remember that night, had blocked it out of her head, treating it like a horror movie she’d seen where she only remembered the darkness, not the agony she’d felt. Her head was good at the denial a
nd the rejection, but her heart remembered Santiago; in fact, it refused to let go of the sweet, comforting, ghost-like memory of him.
“Did you finish high school?”
“What do you think?”
“Oh my God! No? You’re fucking shitting me!”
He slowly shook his head, but it was unabashedly. He wasn’t ever afraid to show her who he truly was. She cringed and could feel it in her spine. Her parents wouldn’t even know what to do with that information. Her next logical question should have been “GED?” but she was too afraid to ask it. She already kind of knew what the answer would be. Salana threw a couch pillow at him instead. He smiled and stuck it behind his head.
“How old were you when you lost your virginity?”
“Thirteen,” he said to her with a frisky smile.
“To another thirteen-year-old? Jesus!” She was scandalized.
“No, to one of my mom’s friends.”
“You’re shitting me again?”
“Nope. Scout’s honor.” He held up his hand.
“You’re not a fucking boy scout!” Salana was drunk.
“She was probably in her late thirties. Had a nice body. It was a good time. No regrets.”
“Gross!”
“You don’t have to tell me when you lost yours, because I’m guessing it was in Switzerland.” Salana huffed and threw another pillow at his head.
TIAGO
He finished the last of his beer and stood up to get another one. Every night they could spend together, they were. He didn’t need the corner or his boys or any entertainment outside of her. She made him laugh. She was so fucking smart and she never put him down or made him feel like less than he was.
They kissed and cuddled every night on her couch. It wasn’t like he wasn’t driven to have sex with her, he was, but he was also content to wait for it to come naturally. Sex had always been to him a means to an end. Get fucked up, sweet-talk a woman to make the connection, get off and leave—never see her again. But with Salana, he liked her company, he craved her conversation, he wanted to learn every little thing there was to know about her.