Anyone else singing, “Let it Go” from Frozen, in their heads now?
Jesus, that fucking song! Thanks, Brooklynn!
We sit on the sofa; his thumbs, caressing the backs of my hands that he has a strong grasp on. “What happened?” he encourages me to begin. I don’t want to begin, though. I don’t want to talk about this, at all. So I cried, who cares? It was a moment of weakness. I got it out, now I’ll be fine for a while.
“It’s Sunday, isn’t it?” I try my hand at avoiding.
“Yes, it is.”
“I was thinking today was Monday, last night when we were figuring out the cars.”
“I wasn’t really thinking about anything but being with you.” He leans in and pecks my lips softly.
“Do you go to church on Sundays? I go to church. Sometimes I don’t go with the family. I go by myself to St. Christopher’s. It’s an Episcopalian church. I like it there. It’s very similar to my Catholic church but it has a cozier feel to it. My family and friends don’t know I go there. Well, Maddie knows. She’s the secret keeper in the GEGs. She’s also our captain. She’s great. I pretty much tell her everything. I think we all do. Do you have somebody like that?” I sit and wait for him to digest all of my ramblings, deeply hoping that it was enough to distract him from his previous agenda. He gives me the warmest, closed-lip smile I’ve ever had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of. And I remember . . .
He gets me . . .
“I don’t go to church as often as I should, but I would love to come with you to St. Christopher’s. It could be our secret. From the few times I’ve met Maddie, I’d say I agree with your assessment of her. Although, I’m not really sure at this point in your life what having her as your captain means but I’m sure, knowing you girls, I will probably be holding my gut, laughing, once I find out. The person I tell everything to is my mom. Mitch comes in at a close second, though. Did I answer all of the questions to your satisfaction?” He reaches up and pushes some of my hair behind my ear. I lean into his touch. It’s becoming an annoying habit of mine. I hate being so needy. But then I feel the weight of his lips on mine, his tongue gliding across them, encouraging them to part. And suddenly, any thoughts of this new habit being annoying are erased. I open, allowing him to deepen the kiss and everything just feels right in the world. I’m not sure how to really explain it because a part of me wants to fight this so bad—these feelings. The rest of me wants to come home and Kyle feels like he’s the key in helping me find the way there. Slowly, I lean back, pulling him with me. “Ceese,” he murmurs against my lips, “we need to talk, beautiful.”
“I need you.” I lean up to taste his mouth again.
“Baby, I—”
“—Stop. I have asked you several times now, not to call me that.” I place my hand on his chest to create some space between us.
“Is that what he called you?” He sits back up.
“Yes, he and every other damn guy on the planet. You’re different, Kyle, in every way. Especially, the way I feel about you—it’s different. It’s special, don’t make it ordinary.” I do nothing to hide my irritation.
Kyle stares at me and it makes me feel even more awkward from having diarrhea of the mouth. “I just have to say this,” he starts. I cringe. “Hearing the words that just came out of your mouth makes me want to take my inner vagina, throw it out there, and beg you to let me have your baby.”
My eyes, I imagine, are bugged the fuck out.
I suck both of my lips in, attempting to not die from laughter.
Fuck it!
“Bwahahaha,” shoots out of my mouth at full force. I can’t even stop. I mean, who talks like this besides me? I find myself slowing down, wondering, did he ever talk like this before meeting me? If not, is this a good thing for him? Am I good for him?
“Whoa . . . what’s going on in there? Why are you so serious all of the sudden?” He tilts his head as if to figure me out.
“I just love you—I mean, I love that you . . . uh . . . um, that you have no problem saying shit like this to me!” What. In. The. Actual. Fuck?
“Stop.” He smirks.
“No, but I . . . I mean, we don’t . . . we haven’t . . . it’s only been three months and only recently . . . look, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea or lead you on.” I finally blurt out.
“You don’t want to lead me on?” He bites back his smile. Motherfucker is eating this shit up.
“No. I don’t,” I say in a voice full of defeat.
“Well, let’s clarify things . . . make sure I’m fully aware of where you stand, so I don’t feel lead on, okay?”
“Um, ok.” I look at him, curious as to what he’s up to.
He pushes back on the sofa and pats the seat cushion between his legs. “Come here,” he invites me. I give him a meek smile and climb into the space between his legs, settling my back against his chest. Mmm . . . perfect. “See this, right here? I love this, Ceese; how perfect you fit in my arms. From the sound of your sigh, am I right to assume you love it, too?” his voice is so soothing next to my ear. I close my eyes, enjoying the extra squeeze he’s giving me. “Well?”
“Yes, I love it.”
“Do you love the way I kiss you?” He brings his fingers up to my chin, turning my face and tilting it up to his. Kyle’s lips collect mine and it’s like Heaven the way our tongues glide over each other.
“Yes,” I breathe when he pulls away.
His hand slips down from my chin, my neck, the center of my chest, until he reaches the hem of my shirt. I’m not going to lie; my breathing may be a little labored at the moment. “Do you love how I caress your skin, beautiful?” His hands travel under my shirt, his fingers gliding across my stomach, nonchalantly.
“Kyle,” I gasp lightly, my head rolling back onto his shoulder. My hands grasp at the material of his pj bottoms in anticipation of being driven out of my mind. Fuck the way he affects me, damn it!
“Do you? Do you love when I touch you?” His hands become less nonchalant.
“Yes . . . yes,” I pant.
Kyle’s breathing becomes labored, as well, the higher his hands travel. “Damn it,” he seethes. I’m pretty sure his tone is not due to him being angry with me. He quickly brings his hands back out into the light of day. “What else do you love, CiCi—tell me,” he demands, running his hands through his hair.
“Um . . . I—”
“Spit it out!”
“I thought you like it when I swallowed.” I crook my neck and give him a coy smile.
“Oh, that goes under the category of ‘love.’ CiCi, I love every bit, every part of having sex with you. Let’s avoid that aspect. I want to know what you love outside of the bedroom, okay?” He nips at my bottom lip.
“Okay.” And suddenly, I, CiCi O’Brien, am feeling shy. Without a blink or slight change of shade in my cheeks, I could easily tell Kyle that I love watching his big, fat cock, pounding my pussy. Telling Kyle that I love his eskimo kisses has me on the verge of fucking hives. I don’t know where to begin. There are so many things to choose from; I’m not sure if I should say the little things or the things that are huge to me. Funny thing is, it’s the little things that are huge to me.
“Wow . . . you have to think this hard about it? You’re kind of giving me a complex, here, Ceese.” He picks at an imaginary piece of lint on his pants, and then rubs his palm against his knee.
“No! No, Kyle.” I start to get up but only to turn around onto my knees to face him. “There’s so many things that I love, I’m having a hard time organizing them in my head,” I try to ease his insecurity. He slides his hands onto my hips and it’s all I can do not to attack him. “I love that you find ways to touch me,” I blurt out. He starts to open his mouth and I’m pretty sure it’s to remind me that I’m not supposed to make this about sex. “Wait, I don’t mean it in a sexual way. You always manage to grab my hand to hold, place a hand on my back . . . stuff like that. It makes me feel good. It doesn’t sound like
much but, if it was another guy, I really wouldn’t give a shit.” Hi, CiCi, welcome back! Now stop being a pussy and tell him how you feel. Encouraged by Kyle’s boyish grin, I carry on. “I’m big on family; being an O’Brien, you really don’t have a choice.” I chuckle a little. “I love that you are, too. I especially love how close you are with your mom. I’m very close with mine too, so it’s nice that I won’t ever have arguments with you about that. I love that you’re brave enough to say obnoxious things to me like I would say to you. I love it even more that you not only think to do that, but can pull it off, too. I love that you get me—not many people do.” Fuck the knot in my throat. “I love that you don’t give up on me. That you have a level of patience with me that should be scientifically researched.”
“That may involve probing.” He shakes his head, “I prefer to probe and not be probed.”
“You give good probe, Kyle.” I deadpan. He gives me that smirk where he bites his smile back at the same time. “I love when you do this smirk right here.” I touch his mouth. “It makes me want to slap you in the face with my pussy.”
“I can’t think of anything better to be slapped in the face with,” he chuckles. “Do you have anymore?” He shakes my hips, tightening his grip on them.
“A ton more, but . . . I don’t want to reveal all of my cards at once. Besides, wouldn’t it be nicer to hear over time instead of all at once?”
“Good.” He leans up and hugs me to him.
“Good?” I jerk my head back, unsure of what he’s referencing.
“Yes. Good. Over time means you’ve made your decision already.” He smiles up at me.
“What are you talking about?”
“Our discussion, last night? About you, deciding what you want while I’m in Spain?”
“Oh,” I sigh.
“Oh?” He pushes back on my hips. “What does that mean?”
“It means, oh. I wasn’t sure what you were talking about, you reminded me. I said ‘oh.’ I believe that is a normal response.” I answer. I’m sure he’s not satisfied with this answer but, oh well. I don’t want another argument with him.
“Well, just a reminder about that patience you think needs scientific study—it’s running out.” He lifts an eyebrow at me.
“C’mon, let’s go back to bed and get a few more hours of sleep.” I get up and wait for him to do the same, but he’s not budging.
“No, Ceese. We came in here to talk about what happened. Sit back down.” He grabs my hand and tugs.
“Yeah, I’ll pass, but thanks, though.” I try to pull my hand away.
“Why?”
“You’re kidding, right?” I snap lightly.
“No. I’m not kidding.”
“Kyle, I just revealed to you how you make me feel. That was very hard for me. Two seconds later, you make me regret saying anything at all. I would rather go upstairs with you and let you fuck me in the ass because that would be more comfortable than sharing something so personal and painful with you.” I manage to finally free my hand from him and make my way to the stairs.
It’s six in the morning. There’s no one I would dare call at this time. I’m pretty much stuck here, as far as rides go. I can’t even call anyone to vent. I grab my phone and check my timeline on Facebook—somebody has to be having a shittier morning than me. Oh shit! Julie’s on.
Me: Hey, Asswhore! What are you doing up this early?
Julie: Trying to put an awesome fucking book down with no success!
Me: Ooh! Can I borrow it? I want to make sure I know all the tricks to awesome fucking!
Julie: It’s all about the good steady pace and most importantly, a great climax.
Me: Is there a lot to swallow?
Julie: It’s been described as “copious amounts.” There’s a lot for the heroine to take in.
Me: I know the feeling.
Julie: Kidding aside, I think you would like this book. It’s called Whispers by Hailey Trent.
Julie: Wait—what?! Are you letting Kyle plunge into your secret abyss?!!!
Me: Is it really a secret?
Julie: Well, with the way you always walk around, scratching your balls . . .
Me: Those are lady balls and they need scratchin’ too (they’re bigger than mens’).
Julie: Well????
Me: Yes. Kyle and I are together. I actually could use your ear. Later, though. Kyle just walked in. Ok. Love you, bye!
Julie: You know why I don’t mind cliffhangers in books? Because having a best friend like you gives me plenty of practice at “getting over it.” Bye! Love you, too! Full snatch report later, please!!
“Is this where I come to get anal?” Kyle quips.
“I wouldn’t have pegged you to be that type of guy, Kyle—kinky bastard. Well,” I pat the bed, “bend over here and I’ll get the lube and my vibrator for you.” I wink. He smirks then sits next to me and grabs my hand. Drawing little circles on the back, he opens his mouth several times as if in an attempt to speak, but closes it again.
We seem to be at an impasse here. It doesn’t need to be this way. I don’t want it to stay this way. I feel like I’m at one of those crucial moments in your life where you could easily make the wrong decision and spend the rest of your life wondering what would’ve happened if you could go just back and choose correctly. Here’s the thing; the me from three months ago would’ve made the wrong choice, not giving a fuck because it scared her. The me, today, is still scared as shitless but I’m tired of it and I do give a fuck. Something has clearly changed in me. I’m not sure exactly when it happened. It may never have happened, had he not come along. But here it is and . . . here I go . . .
“When I was in college, I met and fell in love with Andrew Spofford. We were inseparable. He was it for me. We’d stay on the phone for hours, talking about our future: when we would marry, how many kids we’d have, where we’d live. I believed in him. I believed in us. I gave him all of me; not a second thought. As you can imagine, from our conversation earlier, I found myself pregnant.” I turn my head, lifting my eyes to meet his. He gives me a nod of encouragement and squeezes my hand. I take in a deep breath.
“At first, I fucking freaked out like most girls do that end up in this predicament. But then, I thought about how much we had gone over our plans. Sure, it was a lot earlier than we had talked about, but we would manage. It was meant to be; otherwise it wouldn’t have happened, right?” I widen my eyes for emphasis. Kyle gives me a curt smile. “So, instead of dread, I allowed myself to feel happy about the little monster growing in me. I mean monster is sweetest of ways. I imagined him being like cookie monster or something, with snacks all over his face.” I chuckle a little but it doesn’t help the knot that’s forming again. “I fell in love, for the second time in my life. I couldn’t wait to tell Drew, but I wanted to do it in person. He and I were so busy with exams and stuff, I just couldn’t find the right time.” I stop to take another deep breath. I’m actually surprised how easy this is flying out of my mouth. “Finally, I had decided to surprise him. It was a Thursday night. I had made plans with a few of my friends but decided to cancel, knowing that he was staying in. I thought it would be great to not only surprise him but tell him about the baby. Neither one of us had classes the next day that would force us to cut our talk short.” I stop, fighting the bile that is making its way up from my stomach.
“He didn’t want the baby?” Kyle speaks up.
“He never ended up knowing about the baby.”
“What do you mean? Did something happen to him?” He starts rubbing my back. I know he’s wracking his brain while trying to soothe me, but I can’t even stop the sobs that have come so hard.
Finally, I pull it together to give him the answer. “No. Nothing happened to him. I never told him because I was too distracted by being mortified and having my heart broken all at once.”
“You found him cheating on you?” he asks and I can hear the anger in his voice.
“No. He never cheated
on me. I wish he had. God, I wish he had. What he did was far worse than anything.”
“Did he rape you?”
“No.”
“What the hell did he do, Ceese?!”
“Look, Kyle, I really can’t. I’m not ready to discuss that part. Please. I just want to tell you about the baby.” I turn to him, grabbing his hands—pleading.
“Ok, Ceese. I’m just trying to figure everything out. I want to help you try to find a way past all of this.” He rests his forehead against mine.
“I know. I need you to be patient, though. You’re the only person I’ve ever told this to. Nobody knows, Kyle. Do you understand how big this is for me? I’m not even a hundred percent sure that I’m doing the right thing, here.”
“You are! I promise you are, Ceese.” He grasps my hands in his palms and I bring my eyes up to his. “I will never do anything to make you regret telling me, I promise.” He thumbs my tears away and lays several soft kisses on my lips. He pulls back, “Now, tell me, what happened?”
I reach over and grab tissues off the nightstand to blow my nose. I ball up the used tissues in my hands and mindlessly start playing with them. “Don’t do that,” he stops me, “It’s unsanitary.” He grabs them and throws them in the wastebasket.
Me? I can’t help but laugh at him. “Honestly, Kyle, I don’t think that was the most unsanitary thing I’ve done in the past twenty-four hours.”
“That’s different.” He smiles then proceeds to squirt antibacterial shit in my hands.
“I’m sorry but you’ve lost your title as Mr. Spock. I am now calling you Monk.”
“I don’t even know what that means except it’s probably another TV show. You need to do something better with your time, beautiful.”
“Should I do you, instead?”
“You should—at all times! Now . . . you are slowly working yourself away from telling me what happened, don’t think I haven’t noticed.” He darts an eyebrow up.
“Yeah,” I sigh. “So, basically, what he did to me mortified me so bad, I felt destroyed. I could never face him again. I could never face anyone there. I left. I left him, school, my dreams—everything.” I pull my hair tie out and shake my hair out with my hand: nervous energy.
In the Mix Page 18