by K L Wood
“Not at all.” I grabbed tongs out of the drawer and picked up a piece of bacon. She still didn’t look my way.
Tabitha grabbed a carton of eggs and a bowl. “How many eggs?”
“Two.”
“Is scrambled okay?”
“Perfect.”
She started cracking and beat the eggs in a bowl. Her hand shook a bit as she gripped the whisk. I grabbed the bowl from her and set it down on the counter. “Tabitha, look at me.”
She tugged at the ends of her hair and looked up, forcing a smile. “What is it?”
I held a hand to my mouth, hesitating. This wasn’t the response I was hoping for. “We should talk about last night.”
She grabbed the other pan, setting it on the burner. “What’s to talk about? We both consented and understood what it meant.”
“What did it mean?”
She poured the egg mixture into the pan. “Don’t worry, Reed. I’m not going to start pining after you again. It was an experience and nothing more.”
Her words squeezed around my heart, and I felt as if someone kicked me square in the gut. I knew we hadn’t talked about it being more, but I wanted it to be. I didn’t realize how much until this very moment. I wanted to caress her cheek and tell her how I felt, but I knew now was not the time. She obviously wasn’t ready and still had to go through the motions of moving on from Mark and healing in her own way.
I was the asshole who was probably getting in the way of that.
I finished with the bacon and washed the pan. By the time breakfast was ready, I didn’t have much of an appetite at all…and by the way Tabitha picked and pushed her food around on her plate, she wasn’t all that hungry, either. I had to nip whatever this tension was between us in the bud.
“I was thinking of fixing up the lair.”
“Really?” Her eyes lit up, and I knew I was on the right track with this idea.
“How are you with a hammer and nails?”
“You want me to help?”
“It’s your lair as much as it is mine.”
She chuckled. “Yeah, right. You always made it clear it was yours, and you were only allowing me in.”
“I was full of shit, and you know it.”
She cracked a smile and shoved potato into her mouth. “I helped build the sets for the theater club, so I can hang all right.”
“Good. We should use your car to get supplies. A lot easier than lugging that RV around.”
Her body language seemed to transform from tense to excited. That feeling was so contagious that I devoured my breakfast, not wanting to wait another minute to get started.
After we cleaned up and got into the car, I handed her my phone. “Pick out some music. We’ll take the scenic route into town.”
“It’s locked.”
“1027.”
“Trusting me with your passcode, eh?” Tabitha let out a devious chuckle as she scanned through my playlists. She shot up an eyebrow in my direction. “You have a playlist named ‘Missing Her’?”
My heart fell, and I swallowed. “We don’t need to play that now.”
“I’m guessing her isn’t the gray-haired nonna who taught you to cook.”
No. It’s about you.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I won’t dredge up old feelings for the one who got away.” She was being both accusing and playful.
I let out a breath of relief. If Tabitha played those songs, there’s no way she wouldn’t realize it was about her.
“Here, we’ll play ‘Long Drive.’”
“Broken” by lovelytheband came on first, and the lyrics hit me like a freight train as they never had before. This song described what Tabitha needed last night…and what I needed, too.
And she was right last night. No matter what happened or who we ended up with, there would always be Tabitha and me.
Tabitha
It was dusk by the time Reed and I finished the last of the work on our lair. We had just weather-proofed the wooden walls with water sealant. Reed dragged in a new futon-style mattress that was a little bigger than the old one, and both of us flopped down onto it, exhausted but feeling good. He held up his hand for a high five, and I met it with a slap.
Reed was beaming. “She’s looking great.”
“Perfect.” I turned to my side and propped up on my elbow. “Why did you want to fix up the shed?”
“It’s a part of our childhood, our history.”
“Can you picture your own kids hiding away here one day, reading books?”
He chuckled. “I only hope they’d love to read that much.”
I huffed. “My kids will be avid readers. My parents had me reading by age four. I’m making sure they love books like I do.”
“Unless they are as stubborn as you are,” he joked.
I poked his side. “Me, stubborn? Talk about the pot calling the kettle black.”
“Since when do you use my idioms?”
“Your idioms? Sorry to break this to you, but you didn’t invent them.”
Reed chuckled. “I don’t say them as much anymore. They broke me of that habit in college, especially my writing classes. They slip out now and again, but my professors forced me to find ‘unique ways to describe situations and feelings,’ as they so vaguely put it.”
“I liked that you used those old sayings. No one our age really did. It’s one of the things that set you apart, and you didn’t care what anyone thought of it.”
“I cared more than I should have. I think that’s why I was so angry more often than not. I knew who I was and wanted to be. I didn’t even try to hide it, but their reaction was to ignore it. Their line was, ‘That’s just Reed.’”
“That was the part of you I fell for.”
He smiled that soft smile that made me melt, and he tucked a hair behind my ear. “I know.”
The feelings stirring inside me were so very confusing. What happened last night—his touch, its power to send me places I’d never been—made my body react. I wanted more of it, but what I wanted most was what came after: lying in his arms. I just…I didn’t understand how it could feel so right.
It scared me, wanting to be near Reed, to open up even more.
He was leaving soon, and I’d told him I could handle this. I needed to show I could handle this and accept it for what it was.
But I was afraid of falling in love with him all over again. It had taken me a long time to heal the first time. And I’d never fully let go. I’d only learned to live with it for a while until a true commitment to someone else smacked me in the face.
Would I be able to handle it when he left again?
Maybe these feelings weren’t real.
Maybe I was rebounding.
I did care for Mark, which was confusing me even more now. Did I miss the comfort of Mark? How well we got along? How our friends were integrated and we all went out together? Mark and I worked. We worked better than any other relationship I’d ever had. I really believed that that would be it. I could see us married with kids.
It wasn’t passionate, and his touch never made me feel like Reed’s did. But our relationship was stable and safe…until he left. And he had every right to.
Was it Reed I loved or just the idea of him?
“What are you thinking?”
“Honestly?”
“Yes.”
“Mark…and my other relationships…I thought I knew what I wanted, but I’m not so sure anymore.”
He sat up to meet my eyes. “If he came back now, wanting you back, would you go back to him?”
“Three days ago, I would’ve probably said yes. Now I’m not so sure.”
“What changed?”
You.
“I’m questioning what I really want now.”
Reed slipped his hand in mine. “Promise me you’ll never go back or make a commitment to anyone unless you’re sure. No doubts.”
“And what if I’m never sure?”
“Do you want a great love,
the kind they write about in timeless love stories? Or the safe kind of love?”
“I want both.”
“There’s a book called Invisible Monsters by Chuck Palahniuk—”
“The author who wrote Fight Club?” I asked.
“Yes. There was a quote I hung on my wall that I always loved: ‘The only way to find true happiness is to risk being completely cut open.’”
Didn’t he know I’d already done that once with him? I poured my heart and soul out to him, cut myself wide open, and revealed everything. He rejected me, and I couldn’t be mad at him for it. I couldn’t force someone to love me. But I never wanted to feel that pain again. That one left a scar.
He dipped his chin, playing with the ring on my finger. “Easier said than done, but I do believe it.”
I realized he was talking about “Missing Her.”
My throat burned with the threat of tears, but I wouldn’t let them fall. If Reed was okay with me being open and honest about Mark, I could let him open up to me about the girl he missed and probably still loved.
“Tell me about the woman from your playlist.”
He sat up and leaned his back against the wall. “What do you want to know?”
“How did you meet?”
He smiled. “Not by choice.”
Okay, that was vague.
“Do you still miss her?”
He hesitated. “All the time.”
“Does she know how you feel?”
“Not completely.”
I leaned back against the wall next to him. “Why don’t you tell her?”
“It was never the right time.”
“Do you love her? I mean, real love, without any doubts?” I bit my bottom lip, unsure I wanted to know the answer.
“I try not to go there.”
“What do you mean?”
“Because if it didn’t work out, it would be too painful.”
Tears rimmed my eyes, but I held them back. “You do love her.”
He wrapped his arms around his knees and nodded.
A part of me wished he didn’t, while the other wanted him to be happy, whether with or without me.
I scooted closer to him, curling my arm around his. “You should tell her, cut yourself wide open and just do it.”
At least then you’ll know the truth.
He smiled. “I don’t think she’s ready for that.”
“You’ll never know until you try.”
He grabbed my hand and kissed it. He lingered, closing his eyes as if inhaling my scent or making a memory. “One day, I just might.”
I rested my head against his shoulder, just like I did that day he told me he got that job in Europe. Somehow, these few days we were spending together were feeling a bit like that: making a few memories before parting ways and going down separate paths again.
23
PP Play
Reed
I deleted the tenth opening sentence on my newest article that had come to mind. I couldn’t concentrate on work with my mind constantly straying to Tabitha. I had to leave soon to get back on schedule, and she would be back to work again after the weekend. I loved this frigging bubble we’d created. I wanted it to last forever, but the clock was ticking louder and louder. Our real lives were waiting.
A text rang through my phone. Tabitha.
T: U still up?
I smiled.
R: How did you get my new number?
T: If you didn’t want me to have it, then you shouldn’t have given me your passcode. :p
R: Am I going to live to regret it?
T: Yup.
R: So, what is on your mind at 1:30 in the morning?
T: When do you have to leave?
R: I should leave tomorrow, but I could probably squeeze out another day or two.
A smiley face popped up.
T: I’d like that, although I wish we both could stay longer.
My heart sat like an anchor in my chest, wanting her in my arms again.
R: I love you.
T: Do you regret what we did last night?
R: No…and you?
T: The truth?
R: Yes.
T: It scared me a bit at first, but tonight I realized that I will be okay with it, that we’ll be okay.
R: Like you said, no matter what happens, there will always be you and me.
T: Always.
I traced my finger over her message, that feeling of peace swimming over me.
T: Well…since we only have one, maybe two nights left, what do you say about going for round two? ;)
R: I’d say it’s dangerous.
T: But the phone is safe. No chance of PP Play.
A laugh burst out of me.
R: Did you just say PP Play?
T: You don’t like PP Play?
R: I love PP Play.
T: I love PP Play, and you love PP Play, so why don’t we play with our PPs together? :p
R: You’re crazy, you know that?
T: And you love it.
R: I do.
I love everything about you.
T: So, I’ll start where I left off that first year of college: me in that Killers T-shirt, with nothing else on…
I shifted on the bed, my briefs becoming a little tighter at the thought.
R: Where is your hand now?
T: Oh no, you are not controlling this one. This time, I’m in control, and I’m going to please YOU.
R: Pleasing you does please me.
T: Just let me write to you.
R: Fine.
T: Imagine me walking into your room right now in only that T-shirt.
Oh boy.
T: I walk toward you, and you can tell by the desire in my eyes that I want you. The moment you try to object, I touch my finger to my lips and shake my head. I want you, and this time you won’t stop me. Onto the bed I crawl on all fours, pausing suspended above your body. Our mouths barely touch as we share one breath between us. I glide my hand down your chest, and your abs quiver as I get lower. I grab your full, hard cock over your briefs, stroking steady and slow, feeling you get thicker in my hand.
I reached down, playing out her story, imagining it was her hand instead of mine.
T: Do you like it?
With my free hand, I thumbed out a response.
R: I love the way you touch me.
T: I rip down your briefs, yearning to taste you, feeling you throb and ache for my mouth.
Fuck.
T: Do you want my mouth? Do you want me to take you all in to the back of my throat?
I could barely type at this point, but I tried.
R: I wsnt al; of it.
I slipped my hand inside of my briefs and closed my eyes, imagining her mouth gliding up and down my shaft.
My eyes popped open when I felt the mattress sink on one side. Tabitha was there, crawling toward me just like she had texted moments ago. I didn’t even hear her come in. I instantly pulled my hand from my underwear. “What are you—?”
She brought her hand to her lips. “I promise, no sex. I want to do this.”
My brain was screaming a refusal, but every inch of my body yearned for her touch, her mouth, her heat.
Tabitha did everything as she’d described, and I couldn’t look away. As soon as my briefs were off, she gently grabbed hold and let her tongue glide from the bottom of my shaft to the very tip. I arched my back, letting out a groan. When her lips wrapped around me, taking me in so deep I could feel the back of her throat, I nearly lost it. My desire for her intensified, and I resisted the urge to be inside of her, to feel the tight walls of her pussy grip every inch of me.
My body pulsated, the need for full release taking over. “Tabitha, I’m coming,” I warned so she could get ready to spit, swallow, or finish with her hand. Her mouth didn’t leave my tip, and I couldn’t hold back anymore. Every damn muscle spasmed in pleasure. As soon as the last of my orgasm ripped through me, I sat up, pulling Tabitha up to me so I could kiss that
amazing, beautiful mouth of hers.
We flopped back together on the pillow, and she nestled herself against my chest like she had the night before.
It was even more incredible than the last time.
“Wow.”
I could feel her smile against my skin, and it warmed me.
“You liked it?”
“I don’t think there’s a word to describe how much.”
“You want to know where I learned how to do it?”
I cringed, not wanting to talk about any of her past exes or her sexual experiences with them.
“A gay man taught me,” she admitted.
“What?”
“A gay friend I had in college. I wanted to know how to give a blow job, so he taught me…with a banana.”
I burst out laughing. “He should start a business,” I teased, although I was only half-joking. The man was a pro.
“He should. He taught a few of us. I told Paige about it, too, but I think she was a natural to begin with.”
I winced. “Can I make a second rule?”