by A. C. Bextor
“Hey, Ellie. This is Devon.” Sarah’s introduction is short, but there. Ellie’s the only one here that hasn’t met him.
Before Ellie has a chance to respond, we hear Hayden laughing as Olivia hands him a white round container. I don’t recognize what it is, but he must because he holds it up and asks, “Who’s missing their pills?” He opens the box and smiles widely. “Someone’s about to get a visit from Aunt Flo in about . . . ,” he counts to himself, “well, I don’t really understand these, so who cares.”
All the women look at each other, but Sarah’s face reddens immediately and she steps forward to swipe them from Hayden’s grasp. “Shit,” she whispers harshly to the room.
“Fuck me, damn it. Sarah, you’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding,” Ace snaps without needing time to process.
I’m still a little lost.
“She’s got your wallet out too, squirt,” Hayden explains while scooping Liv up and forcing her to release coins she dug out from Sarah’s purse. “You can’t leave an open bag around her.”
“Shit. Shit. I’m sorry!”
Lacey laughs. “Why are you sorry? She just turned two, Sarah. She gets into everything. Boxes, bags, purses, shoes. Whatever she can find.”
“I’m headed now to put her down for the night anyway.” Hayden squeezes Liv, causing her to giggle, and then bends to kiss Lacey’s head before turning to walk away from the table. When he reaches where Ace is sitting, he stops and whispers, “She’s an adult now, Ace. Calm down, friend.”
Ace doesn’t answer; the disgusted look he has aimed at Devon could cut glass and already says what he’s not voicing.
Ellie, noticing my confusion, leans in and says, “Birth control pills.”
Fuck me. I internally agree with Ace.
I train my eyes at Ace as he continues staring at Devon, then at Hayden as he stands bouncing Liv in his arms. Hayden gives me a mild smirk, then turns around and walks away.
Devon takes Hayden’s chair next to Lacey, and Sarah ends up in the seat between Marlee and me.
Throughout the next hour, I can’t help but think about those pills and what they mean in reference to her current relationship.
Every few minutes, I allow myself to glance quickly over at Sarah, sitting at my side, and watch her face animate in excitement as she talks to any of us she’s known for so long. However, when Devon addresses her, in any way, she doesn’t show the same enthusiasm. Either he’s pissed her off, bored her to death, or mistreated her in some way. If the latter applies, I’ll have no problem wading in and tearing him apart. I’ll always be that way with her, whether we’re together or not.
“Are you gonna play those cards, Trav? Or just keep drinking until the game’s over for you because you’re about to lose?” Sarah asks, smiling as she puts me on the spot.
“I’m gonna keep drinkin,’” I answer, setting my cards down and lifting my beer to my mouth. She watches carefully as I take a drink, my eyes never leaving hers.
“Are you in a mood?” she asks, loudly enough that the table quiets for my response.
“To drink, yes. To listen to you nag, no.”
She turns in her chair, leaning closer to me, and I hear Lacey gasp in what I deem is nervousness. “I don’t nag.”
“Guys?” Rae interrupts, waving her full hand of UNO cards in the air. “Are we still playing? It’s Trav’s turn.”
“Just a minute.” I hold my finger up and mimic Sarah’s position, leaning in to her as she backs up slightly. I feel Ace’s eyes on me, and then look to Rae whose face is blank, her mouth slightly open as if she wants to say something.
I don’t stop. Instead, I say, “You don’t always nag me, but when you do it makes me want to drink. So, there it is. I’m in the mood to drink.”
“Jesus Christ, you two just fuckin’ stop already.” Ace’s voice hits the walls and causes me to pull back. If he understood why she truly bothered me, more than his voice would hit the walls.
“Whatever,” Sarah adds as she turns in her seat and focuses on her hand of cards. She looks up quickly at Devon and doesn’t say anything else.
“Yeah. Whatever,” I return, feeling Ellie’s hand on my thigh squeeze gently. I don’t need her to calm me. I’m frustrated, but she can’t do anything about my reasons for being so. My thoughts are scattered and I’d love nothing more than for Devon to get up and make his way out, possibly taking Ellie with him.
Sarah stands after the latest round of cards have been played. “I need to use the restroom.”
Using his practiced and feigned manners, Devon stands as she does.
Pussy.
Sarah moves to turn around, but looks down at me briefly and then at Ellie’s hand that I hadn’t noticed was still on my thigh. Her eyes narrow and she uses my shoulder to push off the chair behind her.
Once Sarah’s gone, I look at Raegan, whose eyes are questioning. Lacey’s staring at me in wonder as well. Marlee’s eyebrows are raised and Ace’s face is blank.
Fuck.
“Anyone need another drink?” I ask, standing and clearing a few of the empty bottles. I don’t wait for a response before looking to my sister. “Lace, where’re Hayden and Liv?”
“Her room, why?”
“Need to use your other restroom. Your bedroom has one, right?”
“Yeah, it’s a mess ’cause I’m not cleaning it ’til Hayden helps, but ignore that and it’s yours.”
“Thanks.”
* * *
Sarah
After dinner, Devon and I agreed to stop in and see what everyone was doing. I knew I was missing game night, which was fine, but I hadn’t expected Ellie to be in attendance. I definitely hadn’t expected her to be sitting so close to Trav and making herself comfortable with the group.
I’m not pissed at her. It’s not her fault, and I won’t make shit awkward. I don’t like it, though.
Passing Liv’s room on the way out of the bathroom, I hear Hayden’s voice in a whispered lullaby. My skin pebbles in reaction to his raspy tone, recognizing once again the sweet love he has for his daughter. I head in that direction, not intending to intrude, but only listen.
The words from Billy Joel’s “Lullaby” force me to close my eyes and enjoy their meaning. I’ve never had a father who wanted to hold and sing to me. I never had a father. I had Ace and he certainly wasn’t soft and caring; sure as fuck nothing like Hayden.
He continues the song toward its end, so I peek around the door and find him sitting in a wooden rocking chair in the corner and staring down at Liv’s back as he adjusts her yellow pajama top. Her face is angelic as she continues to suck the pacifier in her sleep.
When Hayden looks up and finds me leaning against the door with my arms wrapped across my middle he smiles, and whispers, “She’s out.”
“She should be,” I whisper. “My purse takes a lot out of anyone, and she reached into its depths to embarrass me.”
“That’ll teach you.”
“Rae would love to hear you sing Billy Joel to Liv.”
“Yeah, she’d ask that I sing it to her.”
“Yeah, and you so would.”
His nose scrunches, but it’s a lie. He’d sing anything if asked enough times.
“Are you going to put her in her crib?” I ask. Liv’s sound asleep but he continues rocking her as if she’s not.
“Nope,” he returns quickly. “This is our time.”
“Hayden,” I reply meaningfully, insinuating Lacey wouldn’t be happy about spoiling her in her sleep.
Hayden nods to the daybed set up across the room. It poses as a couch but I’m sure he’s spent many nights sleeping in here with her. “Sit.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to. . . .”
He sighs. “Sarah, you can sit.”
I move from the door and take a seat across from him. Neither of us says anything as he continues to admire his daughter.
“I love being a dad,” he admits with a smile, keeping his voice low so as to not wak
e her. “I love being a husband,” he adds, still smirking.
“It looks good on you.”
“Well, yeah. Of course it does.”
“Ass,” I say it before realizing I’m cursing in front of a small child. I move my hands to my mouth to cover my already-spoken offense.
Hayden smirks. “It’s fine. She’s not talking enough to repeat anything . . . yet.”
“Sorry,” I apologize anyway.
“So, Devon.” He marks this as a statement, prodding for intel on my relationship.
I’ve always been able to talk to Hayden. He’s calm and collected, rarely ever displaying an angry or bitter emotion toward anyone. When Hayden accidentally found out his mother committed suicide and it was his own father who kept this from him, it could have changed who he was, but it didn’t. Hayden values all of us even more because of his life experiences and what those events did for him, not to him.
“Do you like him?” I ask, curiously.
“I don’t know him well enough. None of us do. He doesn’t come around a lot.”
“He’s nice.”
Hayden hesitates before replying, “That’s what matters.”
“You don’t see me with him, do you?”
Hayden pauses, smiles, then answers with a knowing whisper, “No.”
I roll my eyes and look at the ceiling, leaning back in the bed. “Travis doesn’t like him.”
“Travis worries.”
“He shouldn’t.”
“We all worry,” he returns quickly. “But, you seem to be doing well.”
“Thank you.”
“I know it’s hard and you still miss Bean,” he starts, but I interrupt.
“I don’t know how to stop.”
“You’ll figure it out,” he tells me with care. “Things have a way of working out.”
“Maybe,” I answer then ask, “Are you coming back out there or are you staying in here with her?”
“I’m going to hang in here for a while,” he states as he nods to the door.
I thought this was his way of asking me to leave, but when I turn and look at the door I see Travis’s large frame standing in it. He doesn’t say anything but his eyes stay on me as I get up and move toward him.
Turning around, I mention to Hayden, “I’ll tell Lacey you’re still trying to get her to sleep.”
Hayden smiles and tells me, “You can tell her that, but she won’t believe you.”
“I’ll keep her busy then. Enjoy your time with Liv while you can.”
“Thank you,” he whispers, kissing the crown of Liv’s small head.
Walking past Travis in the tight space of the doorway, I turn around and he follows me. He catches a hold of my wrist, so I stop to face him. His eyes are angry, his stance is rigid, and his face is tight.
I move to release the hold on my wrist, but he doesn’t allow it. Instead, he opens a door and pulls me into the room next to Liv’s. He shuts the door quickly and walks into me, forcing my back against it. It’s dark except for the light from outside the window shining through the curtains. I can’t see his face in the shadows, but he can see mine.
“Trav?” I call his name to test his patience and mood.
He doesn’t answer; he only continues standing in front of me, unmoving. There’s no physical contact, but the room is thick with angry tension.
“Travis?” I prod again, this time louder.
“He doesn’t need to be here.”
Knowing whom he’s talking about, I stall and pretend I’m trying to confirm. “Devon?”
“Yes.”
“He hasn’t done anything to you.”
He laughs sadistically. “If he’s been touching you, he’s done fuckin’ plenty.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
His hand comes up from his side and he uses it to frame my face. He holds my cheek and he uses his thumb to trace my bottom lip gently. I close my eyes to avoid his close proximity and to hear his question with undeniable certainty. “What do I have to do to make you want to be with me, Sarah?”
“Don’t start this here,” I say, although I know he’s not listening.
“I can’t get you to talk about it anywhere.”
“Travis—” I don’t get far before he’s back at me again.
“Tell me you don’t feel anything. Lie to me at least.”
“You’re drinking,” I accuse, but I know it doesn’t matter. He’d say the same thing if he were sober.
“Lie to me,” he requests again.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him, truly feeling a heavy regret for hurting him the way I apparently have. “I never wanted to hurt you.”
“You did.”
His forehead rests on mine and I smell the beer on his breath. It’s intoxicating but only because he’s so close, so vulnerable, and so afraid. I feel his fingers tremble against my skin.
His words are pained; I hear the torment as he says them. “I love you, Sarah.”
Closing my eyes, I plead with myself not to give in, even more so not to cry.
Gathering courage, I try to explain exactly why we aren’t together. “I’d rather hurt you this way than watch you wake up one morning after losing everyone in your life because you think your love for me means more than your loyalty to them.”
“If that’s really what you’re scared of, Sarah, that won’t happen,” he states, pulling his forehead from mine but keeping his face close.
“It would.”
“You can’t fuckin’ know that! Do you love me?”
“You know I do.”
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he tells me, removing himself from the subject of why things aren’t the way he wants them.
“I don’t know what else to say.”
As he leans in I feel his lips on mine. His tongue traces each, top then bottom. His mouth opens slightly as he grabs the back of my neck and pulls me closer. I relax, feeling safe and cherished in his presence after so many months of denied closeness.
This isn’t the frenzied, searching, all-consuming touch which we’ve had before on more than one occasion. This kiss is a reminder of what we shared the night in his bedroom under the strain of grief we both carried after the loss of Bean.
Although closed, my eyes water and a tear falls. My hand moves to his wrist to tell him without words to let me go.
He doesn’t.
Instead, sensing my nervousness, he deepens the connection. The arm not holding my face to his wraps around my waist and his hand rests on my ass. He squeezes firmly, and I hear and feel the moan coming from the back of his throat. Of their own volition, my arms drape across his shoulders and he finally frees my face and neck.
Leaning down farther, but not releasing me, Travis grabs my thighs from behind and lifts my body, raising me from the floor and holding me tightly against the wall behind us. I feel his cock pressed between my thighs and I tremble again; another memory from the night he showed me a kind of love unlike anything anyone else, including him, had ever had before.
Pulling away, he forces his face to my neck and sucks the flesh of it roughly. The three-day growth on his jaw feels coarse against my sensitive skin.
“Do you feel what you’re doing to me?” he whispers his question almost painfully.
I don’t answer. Instead, I gasp. His hand reaches further underneath me and he moves my panties to the side. My skirt has risen to my waist. I’m exposed in every sense of the word.
“No,” I unconvincingly deny.
He doesn’t stop. Rather, his finger slides inside me, and I know he’s found me ready.
“I want you, Sarah. I need to be with you.”
“Travis,” I utter under my breath. Although enjoying the feel of his hands on me again, saying his name was meant to slow him down, get his attention so he’d pull away. But it only adds to his desperation.
“I miss you. I’ve missed you so fucking much,” he tells me, sliding out of me and positioning his hand so his fingers assault my a
lready-swollen clit.
My moan fills the space between us and I lift his face to mine and suck his bottom lip with my own desperation.
“You broke my heart, Sarah,” he says on a breath after I pull away. “You’re breaking my heart,” he says with the next. “I hate that I’m invisible to you. I don’t know what else to say or do to make us right. I won’t hurt you.”
Tears sting my eyes. His fingers continue to manipulate my body and my skin feels warm; my body recognizes what’s about to happen.
It’s what Travis has made me feel before.
“Tell me what I have to do, because I know you feel this,” he says as his fingers dip in and out of me quickly. Again and again, the assault continues and I’m about to surrender to what I know he wants.
My hands grab on tightly to his shoulders, and I rest my face in his neck, bracing for my impending release. My eyes roll back in my head as I let it happen.
“Travis,” I gasp once it hits. My body begins to tremble. “Don’t stop!”
“Fuck, yes,” he breathes heavily in my ear. “Take it, baby.”
Hearing him use an endearment he never uses with anyone but me, my heart beats faster in my chest. I brace my legs securely around him and tilt my head to the ceiling. The moan that comes from the back of my throat doesn’t surprise me. The delayed orgasm still seething through my body does. That’s never happened before.
Once it’s over, Travis holds my sated body in his arms with my back still against the door. Together our breathing slows. Setting me down gently, Travis fixes my skirt before stepping back.
His hand comes to my face. The quiet and calm tone he uses is so certain. “Tell me what I have to do.”
“Stop,” I repeat, losing the breath I just got back.
My body acts before my heart can stop me and I move in to him. Standing on my toes, forcing him to lean down, I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hold him tightly against me. He returns the unspoken gesture of apology by clinging to me with more force than I’ve ever felt from him.
“You’re going to walk away from me,” he utters quietly over my shoulder.
I don’t know what to say, so I tell him what I know is true. “I love you.”
“I want more than that. I want you to tell me you want me, Sarah,” he returns with an emotionally tortured whisper before he stands straight and kisses the top of my head.