by Lori L. Otto
“These are her things. I just transferred them into my rolling bag. I’ve got everything I need in here,” I explain, patting the bag hanging from my shoulder. “And yes, my train leaves at four-thirty in the morning.”
She stops walking. “Why so early?”
“I have a nine o’clock class.”
“Oh, wow. Well, come down this hallway. I’m putting you up in Nyall’s room. It’s here on the right.” I guess I’ll book a hotel for the weekend. “You’ve got clean linens on the bed and a TV in the corner.” I set my stuff down on the small desk under a window. “The bathroom is right across the hall. Clean towels are under the counter.”
“Thank you,” I tell her. “Where’s Coley?”
“She’s in her room.”
“How is she?”
“She’s… she’s been better.”
“Yeah,” I say sympathetically with a nod.
“How are you?” she asks.
“I’m fine.”
“Was school okay?”
“Yeah. It was… it was a lot like Monday. I’m just hoping it gets better.”
“Listen,” she says, touching my arm. “Thank you for being so understanding about the trip. She said you never even tried to change her mind.”
“I could sense that wasn’t an option. I didn’t want her to feel bad about wanting to cancel, either. We can do that anytime. Hopefully sometime when we want to go, and not when we’re trying to run away from New York.”
“Yeah,” Beth says.
“Can I see her?”
“Of course. She’ll be happy to see you. I’m sure she’s got her headphones on or else she would have greeted you herself.” She leads me to the room at the end of the hallway and knocks before opening the door when no one answers. “Trey’s here.”
“Already?” I hear her say. Her mom steps out of the way, letting me in. “I missed you so much!”
“My heart was here all day,” I tell her as I give her a big hug.
“I know,” she says, pulling me to her for a kiss. I can still feel her mother’s presence as we get reacquainted.
After a few seconds, Beth clears her throat. “I’m heading out, Nic. You can order in or there’s stuff for a nice salad, if you’d rather. I trust you two will be good.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Thank you,” I tell her with a smile.
“Be careful,” Coley adds.
“I’ll see you for breakfast.”
As soon as her mom disappears from view, Coley’s impatient lips find mine again. We kiss until I need air and want a lot more than that. “So, your mom is gone until morning?”
Her grin is full of mischief, and then she nods her head.
“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but she led me to Nyall’s room for the night. She has rules about things that go on in this house, doesn’t she?”
“But she won’t be here,” she argues.
“She trusts we’ll be good,” I add, repeating her mother’s words.
“But she won’t know.”
“But I will.”
“You are not going to deny me what I want tonight…”
“I’m starving,” I tell her, changing the subject.
“Trey Holland!” I start walking to the kitchen. “Jackson Andrew Holland the third!”
“Please don’t ever do that again,” I request over my shoulder. “It gives me the parental heebie-jeebies and kills any romantic vibes I had going on.” I look in her refrigerator and take out a soda and a couple of bags of lettuce, setting them on the counter. When I stand up, arms reach around from behind and a hand finds its way down my jeans. I enjoy its touch for a few seconds before pulling it away and turning around. I pick her up easily and settle her on the counter, spreading her knees apart to make room for myself. “Maybe you’ve never met me before, but I’m the guy who respects the house rules set forth by parents–my own as well as others.”
“You’re breaking my heart,” she whines.
“Stop being so dramatic,” I whine back before leaning in to kiss her. “I promise. I’ll still make you feel good.”
“Oh… you will?”
“I assume making out is okay. I know your parents are okay with you having sex in general. I get they’re not okay with it happening in their home,” I say with my lips about a quarter of an inch from hers, “but surely they’re okay with a little touching and kissing and grinding.” I gently thrust into her and pull her into me at the same time to make my point. Her lips attack mine, her tongue playful and adventurous. She wraps all her limbs around me, and I pick her up and carry her to the couch in the living room, laying her against the cushions.
“So, where do you draw the line?” she asks me, trying to catch her breath as I sit down next to her legs.
“No nakedness below the belt,” I tell her.
“You’ve thought this through.”
“I’m a planner. My parents have the same rules… and you have to know your boundaries before you start or you’ll just barrel right over them.” Coley sits up and takes off her shirt and bra. “Oh, shit. You’re going to test me on this, aren’t you?”
“No… just pushing you to your boundaries. Shirt?” she asks, tugging at the bottom of mine. I unbutton it and slip it off, then slide my undershirt over my head. “Surely we don’t have to keep our socks and shoes on, too.”
“No nakedness above the thighs.”
“Just tell me to keep my panties on.”
“That,” I tell her as I watch her strip out of her jeans. I take mine off, too, tossing them onto a recliner next to the sofa. “You are testing me,” I affirm as my eyes travel up and down the length of her slender body.
“I’m torturing myself,” she counters. “I’m already… slick… and ready for you.”
“Oh, Coley…” I squeeze my eyes shut tightly, only hearing the rogue voice on my shoulder telling me to do it. I must have left his virtuous counterpart at home. “I haven’t even been here fifteen minutes and already I’m wanting to break the rules.”
“I can’t help my attraction to you.”
“I can’t help mine, either,” I mutter. “My condoms are in your brother’s room.”
“I’ll meet you in my bed.” I watch her as she makes her way back to her room, spotting the food I’d set out on my way down the hall. I stop to put everything back, getting some water for both of us. In Nyall’s room, I hastily dump everything from my duffel out onto the bed, frantically searching for the condoms until I remember I took them out of their box and put them in my shaving kit. With the image of Coley’s beautiful body and her sultry words still in my mind, I feel no remorse about what we’re about to do.
When I get to her room, she’s sprawled out on her bed, feverishly scribbling in her red notebook, still outfitted in only her light pink underwear.
“May I come in?” I ask her, hoping she hasn’t changed her mind.
“You better,” she says, writing one last word before putting the lid on her pen. She hands me the book, open to the page.
“What?”
“It’s for you.”
Slick
Quivering
An ache like no other
Mere minutes from you
Have ripped me asunder
Suffuse me with kisses
Transfix me posthaste
Inspire in me
Deep cries from within
Your taste
On my tongue
Your name
Every breath
Burning
Consuming
Delighting
Exciting
Take me now
Make me yours
All of me
All of you
All of you
All of you
Give me all of you
Quick
“How do you just… do this?” She shrugs her shoulder. I stare into her blue eyes. “The depth of my desire for you is immeasurable. I love your words–the profus
ion of life you create with them,” I confess to her. “Move over?” I request, then repeat her own command. “Quick.” I shut the book and place it carefully on her desk, then slide into her full bed next to her, my feet hanging off the end. Turned on even more, I kiss her hard as I remove her panties and she starts to push down my underwear. I finish the job for her.
“Transfix you, huh?” I ask her, not missing the double meaning.
“Posthaste,” she breathes as she puts the condom on for me.
“I think you want me…”
“I hope you want me.”
“You know I do,” I tell her as I settle in between her legs. I make sure of her arousal before I ease myself into her. She sighs first, then moans as she wraps her legs around my back.
“I wanna fuck.”
“I gathered that,” I tell her, planting a kiss on her ear as I push into her. “I can read.” She gasps loudly. “Too hard?”
“No. More.” Her fingernails dig into my ass as I do it again. “You’re so deep. It feels so good.” When I look into her eyes, they’re watering.
“You’re sure it doesn’t hurt?”
“It’s so good.”
“Please tell me if I’m hurting you,” I tell her, closing my eyes and ducking my head into the crook between her head and shoulder.
“You’re not,” she reaffirms. “All of you. All of you.” Her words come out in rapid exhalations in my ear with each thrust. “All of you.” With a few minutes of our steady rhythm, I feel her body tremble beneath mine. Moans build into indiscernible words that grow into shouts of obscenities. At the height of her climax, I feel her tighten around me and I get my release, too.
“Oh, fuck, Coley,” I breathe. She plants sweet kisses all over my lips and cheeks and jawline as I take my time reveling in the immense orgasm. “Thank you,” I tell her. “I didn’t realize how badly I needed that.” I feel my cheeks turn pink at my admittance.
“Thank you for giving in to your bad side.”
“I’m not doing it again,” I vow, giving her a big kiss before getting out of bed to freshen up. When I return in my underwear, she’s kicked all the blankets to the end of the bed, and when I lie back down, I understand why. The heater vent blows directly onto her, and we already generated enough heat between us to last awhile. She offers me the pillow and curls up next to me.
“What are we going to do when you come this weekend?” she asks, returning to our conversation.
“That’s kind of personal,” I tease, “but I know I’ll be doing that in my hotel room, for your information.”
“You’re going to get a room?”
“I sure as hell am now.”
“Do you think I can stay with you?” She climbs on top of me, straddling my torso.
“There is an open invitation for you to stay with me. I hope you will. I hope your mom doesn’t mind.”
“She won’t care. She’ll appreciate that you respect her rules,” she says with a wink. I roll my eyes at her as I run my hands down the side of her naked body. When I see her scar, I move my right hand back up and over her breast, moving my thumb along the raised skin.
Immediately, the joy leaves her face, her body. As her shoulders slump, her eyes divert from mine to my chest. “Hey,” I say, putting my finger under her chin, causing her to look back at me. “How are you?”
She shakes her head. “I am happy you’re here, though.”
“I know you are. I’m happy to be here, but I want to talk about you.”
“What about me?”
“Coley, come on… I’m a smart man. I’m pretty intuitive, you know?”
“I know.”
“You can’t keep blaming yourself for Nyall.”
“Who told you I was blaming myself? Did my mom talk to you?”
“No,” I tell her. “I saw the moment you went from the bubbly girl I started dating to this beautiful but despondent person that I would do anything to make happy again. It was when he asked for sand from Palau.”
“I don’t deserve to go there.” Her finger traces the scar above her heart.
“Stop it.” I remove her hand from her chest and hold it in mine.
“He’ll never get to do things like that.”
“You don’t know that, Coley.”
“I do know that!”
“No,” I argue. “He’s in his fourth year of treatment, and I know it seems like forever to you, but it’s early. He’s young. He has his whole life ahead of him, and through medication or therapy, he could get better. I don’t doubt that they have amazing doctors there. You say it’s the best private facility in Virginia. Get my parents involved, and you’ll get the best doctors in the country. Think bigger. New treatment options. Experimental things. They’re not just there to give them more recreational activities, although that’s a big part of this. The experts they’ve talked to say that it will help–keeping the patients engaged, mentally and creatively. Having something they’re passionate about. Giving them things to work toward. Setting goals and achieving things that aren’t just therapy-based.”
She stares at me with her brows furrowed.
“Nothing can change what happened to him, laureate. That’s true. But I firmly believe that the trajectory of his life can still be altered. If he wanted to be a rapper, or a poet like you, I think those are things he’s going to be able to pursue. If he loves swimming so much, maybe he’ll be an instructor or a coach. It’s going to take a little more time and patience and trust, but people are going to give him these things. And you and I and Joel and your parents and my parents are all going to stand by him and encourage him through it all: his great days and the ones that are absolute shit. He will have both. We all do. But don’t give up on him.
“So nothing has worked–yet. It doesn’t mean nothing will work. You need to believe that will change. You need to get him on board, too. He has to believe it, as well.”
“You’ve never seen him act out.”
“I haven’t. But I’ve seen children beat cancer. I’ve seen dependent women leave abusive relationships to lead autonomous lives of their own. I’ve seen homeless families move into apartments they were able to afford using money they earned. I’ve seen teenagers with spinal injuries taking their first steps when their doctors told them they’d never walk again. I’ve seen stroke victims recover memories and vocabularies. Success stories happen all the time. Miracles happen daily.”
“You’ve seen women have babies who were told they couldn’t have children.”
“I never saw it. I’m the byproduct of that.”
“And this is why you believe anything could happen?”
“Maybe so. But it’s a hell of a better outlook than thinking nothing will ever change. We’re both making a guess on what will happen, trying to predict the future. Why not predict good things for your brother? They’re making medical advances all the time. I don’t think my hope for him is merely a stab in the dark. I think there’s good reason to believe in a full recovery for him, and I think he’ll still be young enough to live a full and normal life. Maybe get married and have kids if he wants. Definitely travel. Don’t think that he’ll never get to experience a place like Palau. The second he’s cleared, laureate, we’ll take him there or wherever he wants to go.”
She doesn’t respond verbally. She simply sighs and lies down next to me again. I turn to face her, running my fingers through her hair and kissing her softly.
“I love you,” I tell her.
“Even if I don’t believe you?”
“That I love you?” I ask her, shaken by her question.
“No. About Nyall.”
“Oh,” I answer with a sigh, a smile, and a playful tug on her hair. “Yeah, even then.”
She pushes off the bed and kisses my cheek. “You were hungry earlier. Do you still want a salad?”
“Kind of, yeah.”
“Help me make it?”
“Of course.” I reach in the pile of sheets and produce her underwear w
hile she opens my luggage and pulls out a pair of her beloved pajama pants and a tank top. While she gets dressed, I go back to the living room and make sure every item of clothing I took off is back on my body before picking up her clothes and placing them on her bed to hopefully remove all the evidence that we were fooling around. Her mom’s a cop, though. She probably has ways to find things out, and as paranoia sets in, I start looking around for cameras in little tchotchkes on the bookshelves.
“You said you’d help me,” Coley calls out to me.
“I’m coming,” I say, giving up my search and accepting that what’s done is done.
While I’m on the train back to Manhattan, I get a call from Coley. I’d hated waking her up to let me out of her house, but she had to lock the door behind me. She was so tired, I wasn’t sure she’d even remember that I’d left.
“Why are you awake, laureate? It’s only five-thirty.”
“I couldn’t go back to sleep.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I was afraid that would happen.”
“It’s okay,” she says.
A few seconds go by without her saying anything, and I check to make sure we weren’t disconnected. “You there?”
“I wanted to thank you for last night.”
I laugh and look around to make sure no one’s listening before I continue speaking softly into the phone. “You never have to thank me for sex. Trust me. I’m always the more grateful one.”
“Not for that.” Her voice is serious. “For what you said about Nyall. I’m going to believe that he has a chance to change and have a normal life. You’re right. He deserves it.”
“Oh.” I smile, happy that she’s had a change of heart. “My mom used to tell me I was borne of hope.”
“Don’t get mad if you have to remind me sometimes. I may get discouraged.”
“Just stick with me, laureate. My hope is contagious.”
chapter twenty-seven
“I really appreciate you spending the last weekend of spring break with me.” I reach across the console of my Range Rover and take Coley’s hand in mine. “Do you think Nyall was really okay with it?”
“I do,” she says with an assuring smile. “I think he had so much fun with us over the past week. I know he appreciated how much time you spent with our family. Joel, too. My brothers adore you. We stayed up late after you went back to the hotel last night and talked–my whole family did. Everyone really likes you.”