by R. C. Martin
“Right now, though—I feel a little guilty. And it might be stupid for me to think this, but what we just did felt more self-indulgent than anything I’ve ever done in my whole life.” She shakes her head and lowers her chin, hiding her face from me. “And the only thing I can think about is how much I liked it—even when I felt like I couldn’t take it anymore, I still wanted you so badly.”
I don’t say anything right away. Instead, I let her words sink in. It hits me anew that there’s this innocence about her that still lingers. She might feel guilty, but I don’t. On the contrary, knowing that same innocence clings to her makes what we share more pure than anything I’ve shared with anyone. It makes me cherish her more knowing that everything she’s giving me is something that no one else will ever get.
Seems to me—her guilt is robbing her of what is true between her and me. We don’t need a friggin’ piece of paper to signify that we belong to each other.
“Hey.” I tuck a finger underneath her chin and tilt her head up. “That sounds kind of like an apology.”
“I’m not sorry. I’m not—I just—I’m afraid we’re doing it wrong. I hate that I suddenly feel this way.”
“Baby,” I murmur, tangling my fingers in her wet hair. I pull her closer until our foreheads are touching. “I love you. Do you believe that?”
“Yes. Of course, but—”
“I love you,” I interrupt, “and you love me.”
“I do.”
“So whether I make love to you or fuck you, it’s still ours. Yours and mine. I belong to you and you belong to me. Right?”
“Yes,” she agrees with a nod.
“We both belong to God—the God who made you and me; the God who brought us to each other; the same God who created sex, right?”
“Yes…”
“He created it for us to enjoy. Now, do you believe me when I say that I’ll want you always?” She nods. “Do you want me always, sweet girl?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
“Then there’s nothing for you to feel guilty about. This is you and me, together, always. Got it?”
She answers me with a kiss. As she parts her lips and teases mine open with her tongue, I follow her lead. I know that this kiss, this moment is hers. This exchange isn’t about raw passion or any sort of desperate desire—this is about who we are. It’s our promise to love one another without ceasing.
“Brandon?” she whispers, pressing her cheek against mine. “Will you take me to bed?”
I stand to my feet and pull her to hers. I grab her towel and unwrap her before I gently dry her off. I squeeze her hair into the cloth before I hang it up and then scoop her into my arms. Her lips whisper her thanks as she kisses me softly on my cheek, along my jaw, against my neck. When I lay her down, she reaches for the towel around my waist and discards it before she takes my hand and tugs me toward her.
I settle myself between her legs, just to be near her, and she welcomes me before she kisses me again. For a few minutes, that's all we do is kiss. Slowly. Patiently. Endearingly. Despite the lack of heat in this moment, we're certainly not lacking in passion—a truth made evident with my erection resting between us.
When Sarah reaches for me and positions me at her entrance, I freeze.
“Wait—”
“No,” she insists. “I need you now. Make love to me. Just as you are. Just you.”
“But—”
“I'm protected,” she informs me. “I want to feel you. Your skin against mine and nothing else. Always.” She hooks one leg around me, encouraging me closer, and I submerge myself into the depths of her heat.
“Ahhh, Sarah,” I exhale, overwhelmed by how incredible it feels to be bared to her. I can't remember the last time I had sex without a condom—but I'm sure it didn't feel half as good as it does to be sheathed by nothing but my sweet girl. My Sarah. My always. For a few seconds, I don't dare move, wishing to savor this feeling. Then, when neither of us can stand it any longer, I begin to rock in and out of her. I take my time, showering her with kisses and whispering sweet nothings.
It's as if we've never done this before. We stare at each other in awe of one another, like I'm getting to know her in a whole new way.
I suppose I am.
When I spill my seed inside of her, I know I've given her the last piece of me. If there was anything I was holding back, I'm not holding it back now.
Not now. Not ever again.
When the alarm clock sounds in the morning, I groan and hug my pillow tighter. He chuckles groggily before hitting the snooze button and kissing the top of my head. I groan again, remembering the way I neglected my hair last night. I'm sure it'll be a beast to tame this morning.
Then I remember why I didn't give two shits about my wet hair last night...
My heart swells and I tilt my head so that I can reach my man's face. I kiss his bearded jaw and he responds by bringing his lips to mine.
“Don't start, Sunshine. No friggin' way we'll make it in time if you get me started.” He punctuates his statement with another kiss and I giggle. “Stop it,” he mutters before he grazes his tongue across my lip.
“Stop what?” I ask sweetly, grinning against his mouth.
“Stop being so damn irresistible.”
I don't have a chance to respond before he's got me speaking in tongues. And I don't mean the church kind. I cling to him as he rolls us over and presses himself on top of me. For a minute, I wonder how long I’ll get to bask in his affection. Then he growls as he pushes himself away from me and climbs out of bed, leaving me breathless.
“Clothes. We need to put clothes on.”
“Are you sure that'll help?” I tease.
He inhales deeply and exhales slowly as he rakes his fingers through his hair. I smile at him and, though he fights it, he can't help but smile back. Then he shakes his head and goes to the bathroom. I laugh as I get up and get dressed.
Twenty minutes later, with only one more kiss break—after we’ve brushed our teeth; how could we not?!—I’m crowning him with his helmet as we get ready to leave. Even though we are headed to the same place, we always go separately every morning. He’s a bit of a grump when he doesn’t get to ride his bike into work. Besides, we never leave Little Bird at the same time, anymore.
I wasn’t wrong about my body hating me after the night I had. First my class with Josh, then my marathon with Brandon? Yeah—I’m definitely moving a little slower as I make my way down the flight of stairs to get to my car. I’m sore in places I’ve never been sore before. I sure as hell am not complaining, though. Last night was one of the best of my life.
Because my man is a speed demon, he beats me to the shop even though I only leave a few minutes after him. He’s just unlocking the front door when I spot him. I hurry to catch up as best I can and he keeps the door open for me. I love Saturday mornings. I know for most people it’s a chance to sleep in, but for me it’s a chance to bake all of Brandon’s best recipes. Since he loves me, he lets me snack on the warm pastries as they cool.
This morning, my appetite is insatiable. Over the next two hours, I eat one of everything that comes out of the oven. I swear I’d have had two blueberry crumble muffins if Brandon hadn’t insisted that I was going to make myself sick. Just the same, I set one aside for me to devour later.
I share a bed with the man who makes the best muffin I’ve ever had. I really am the luckiest girl in the world.
Tabitha is our opening barista. Out of everyone who works for Brandon—she’s the least enthusiastic in the morning. She usually perks up after the first hour and a cup of black coffee. Today, I greet her at the door with the latter. When I hand it to her, she smacks a big kiss on my cheek.
“Hell yes, is all I have to say. I need this more than usual today.”
“Rough night?” I ask with a laugh as we both make our way behind the counter.
“Yeah. It’s my own fault, though, so I won’t bitch too much. Anyway—how are Little Bird’s love birds this mo
rning? Still in love?”
Just as she asks, Brandon comes from the back. He catches my eye and offers me a wink.
“Always.” My word is an answer to Tabbi’s question, but with my eyes locked with Brandon’s, it’s also a reminder of our promise.
When the shop opens at eight, we’re busy from the jump. I don’t mind; it keeps things interesting. Our Saturday regulars are starting to remember me and I them. Aside from Brandon and his to-die-for muffins, the familiar faces are part of the reason why I like working here.
Around ten, when things let up just a little bit, Daphne and Trevor come in. I’m surprised to see that they’re sans baby and I don’t hesitate to mention it.
Daphne laughs before she explains, “Roman all but demanded that we let them have Care for the day. Trevor and I desperately need some us time; but more importantly, Logan has somehow contracted baby fever. Roman is on a mission to cure her of that. He’s convinced a day with Caroline will help.”
I shake my head, in awe of what she’s just told me. I’m still trying to get used to the truth that Roman and Logan are married. The fact that he’d like to reproduce with her someday seems insane. “I’m sorry. I know she’s your best friend and sister-in-law now—but I still don’t see it. Her and Roman. I just—it blows my mind.”
“Don’t worry, you’re not alone. It’s one of those things you’d have to see to believe,” says Trevor.
“Oh, that’s so true. Hey! I’ve got a brilliant idea. You should all come over sometime. You and Brandon with Roman and Logan. I’ll cook and we can play pass the baby.”
I tug at my braid, hesitant to agree. Mrs. Holloway may have won over her hottie hubby, but she’s still the girl who tried to take my best friend’s guy, which may not be entirely her fault—but that’s a long complicated story. In any case, Brandon saves me as he suddenly appears at my side. “Hey, guys. Where’s Caroline?”
“With her aunt and uncle for the day,” answers Trevor.
“Awesome. Date day! Finally. What are you guys going to do with it?”
Trevor grins down at Daphne and she returns his expression before he admits, “Nothing. This is our big outing. We came for coffee and muffins and then we’re going back home.”
“Speaking of home,” Daphne interjects. “I was just telling Sarah that we should have a couples dinner at our place sometime soon. You know—since you’re all coupley now. I’ll invite my siblings to join us.”
When Brandon looks down at me to see what I think, I shrug. The expression that lights up his eyes tells me he knows the reason behind my reservations. “She’s not as bad as you remember,” he assures me before pressing his lips to my forehead. All at once I realize, I don’t give a flying flip where we go or what we do—if Brandon is there, I want to be there, too.
“Fine,” I concede, leaning into his side. “Just let us know when.”
Daphne smirks at Brandon before she wraps her arms around Trevor. “Did you see how he did that?” She feigns a whisper. “So smooth.”
“Oh, hush,” I tease, batting my hand at Daphne. She read right through me and I won’t even try to deny it.
When the door opens and I hear the rapid clicking of heels against the floor, I glance behind Trevor and Daphne to see who could be in such a hurry. It doesn’t take me but a second to notice that the woman who just came in is not only in a rush, but she’s also quite striking. She’s dressed professionally, like she’s got an important meeting to get to, but her features are…fairy like.
Her pixie cut is perfect for her delicate frame and elegant face. She looks a bit panicked and I decide that I should probably take Trevor and Daphne’s order so that we can get our frantic fairy on her way.
Except—she doesn’t get in line behind the Rockwells. Instead, she walks right around them. Boldly. Confidently. Arrogantly. Whatever. Any way you label it, she doesn’t think twice before she interrupts.
“Bran, I need you.”
When Brandon goes ridged, I’m immediately on high alert.
“Olivia. What are you doing here?”
Holy shit. That’s Olivia?
She reaches for his hand and tugs him toward her. “No bullshit, Brandon. I need you.”
Oh, wonderful…just wonderful.
I SHAKE MY HAND out of her grasp and take a step back.
I can’t believe she’s here. What the fuck? I told her we were through. I meant it—with all my heart, I meant it!
“It’s William. My mom is freaking out. He was playing with some friends and he got hurt. They’re at the hospital. I came as soon as I heard, but—Brandon, I can’t go alone. I need you.”
I huff out a sigh as I shake my head at her. “Is he going to be okay?”
“I don’t know. He hit his head pretty hard, I guess. Can we just talk about it on the way?” she pleads, reaching for my hand once more.
“I’m sorry. I can’t go,” I tell her, pulling my hand away for the second time.
“Dammit, Brandon, you can’t say no!”
When Sarah reaches for my hand, holding it in both of hers, I squeeze her fingers in acknowledgment. “You’ll be fine, Olivia. Your mom needs you. You should go.”
I see it. The second she looks down and see’s my connection with Sarah, I see the change of emotion in her eyes. I’ve known her long enough. I loved her for long enough. I can tell what she’s thinking without her having to speak a word.
“You’re fucking someone else,” she states matter-of-factly. “You’re fucking someone else and you think, what, you think you can get rid of me with one goodbye? You won’t say no to me. You never do.”
“This has nothing to do with Sarah. Don’t bring her into this.”
“Bullshit! I was here a month ago! A month ago, you were screwing me and now you think some blonde bombshell will scare me away? Honey, I’m not scared of you,” she says to Sarah. “You won’t be the first or the last girl who couldn’t live up to what he wanted.”
Sarah’s grip looseness and she’s got my attention in an instant. The look on her face has my heart pounding. “A month?” she asks softly. “You were with her a month ago? But—we—”
“We hadn’t met yet. Er—re-met, or whatever,” I assure her, squeezing her hand. “It was the weekend before you started working here. It meant nothing. Do you hear me? It meant nothing.”
“Dammit—I don’t have time for your lover’s spat, Brandon! I need to go and I need you to come with me. You’re my best friend. I don’t have anyone else!” Her voice catches in her throat and my focus is torn away from my sweet girl. “It’s William, Brandon—William.” My heart aches as Olivia begins to crumble right before my eyes.
I don’t want to fold. I don’t want to give in. I don’t want to care. I don’t—I don’t.
But I know Olivia. I know that what I’m watching isn’t an act. She’s scared.
“You’re all I’ve got, Bran. You’re the only one who understands. You’ve known Will his whole life—you have to come. I need you.”
I pause for a second, my resolve breaking. This isn’t about sex. What she’s asking for? She needs a friend. It doesn’t surprise me in the least that I’m the only one she trusts. That’s what our relationship has always been about. Right now, she’s scared. I don’t know the details revolving around this situation with William, but the last time someone she loved was in an accident, he died. I can only imagine how her mom feels, too. If this is as serious as Olive’s making it out to be, this could bring back the memory of losing her husband—God forbid that happen to her youngest child.
Yet, I feel Sarah slipping away from me and I don’t know what to do. When I look back at her, she’s wringing her hands—her bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she looks from me to Olive and then back at me.
“Sunshine—”
“When you told me how she hurt you, how she left you—I didn’t think—I didn’t think…” She shrugs helplessly. “A month ago? Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me everything?�
�
I sigh, running my hand down my face. “I swear, there was nothing to tell.”
“You slept with her.”
“And then I met you.”
Olivia’s phone begins to ring. I know it’s hers because she gasps at the sound. “Bran—it’s my mom. Please. Come with me. You’re my best friend. Doesn’t that count for something? After all this time—after everything we’ve been through—how can that not mean something?”
I’m torn in ways I never imagined possible. I never would have thought that Olivia could walk back into my life, again, and pull me back into hers. I thought I was done. I thought we were over.
I didn’t see this coming.
I didn’t know that she would need me like this.
“Go,” Sarah whispers, taking a step away from me.
“Baby,” I mutter, reaching for her, pleading with her.
“I can see that you want to. I can’t stop you. This is up to you and I—I can’t stop you.”
I close the distance between us, gently gripping my hands around her face as I gaze down into her big, beautiful, bright blue eyes. “Do you trust me?” I whisper.
“Trust is not enough,” she breathes.
“Do you love me?”
“You know that I do.”
“I love you, too. I love you, too, baby,” I insist, touching my forehead to hers. “I’ll be back. Okay? I’ll be back.”
She nods her understanding, but I can see the worry she wears in her eyes. It kills me that I’m the one that’s making her feel this way. With Olive’s comment about our last encounter, doubt has been born in Sarah’s heart.
I don’t have time to fix it. I hate that truth, but I feel it—I feel the tug of a relationship that I’ve been tangled in for a decade pulling me away. I don’t have it in me to turn my back on Olive the one time she actually needs me.
This isn’t about sex. It’s about friendship—or whatever scraps of our friendship there is left. It’s about trust—which is all she’s ever been able to give me. Now, it’s more than she can give anyone else.