She opens her eyes, staring directly into mine, and I’m done. I hold Stella close to me, her legs instinctively wrapping around my waist, and stand up. I replay the first time we made love, in this bathroom of all places, with her on this counter. I set her down, still deep inside her, and hold her close as we find that rhythm again quickly. Her grip on my shoulders tightens, her nails digging into my flesh, and she’s biting her lip as I thrust into her.
She doesn’t say a word as I feel her body grip mine and the first wave of her orgasm pulls a gasp from her and she cries out my name. I’m right there with her, tumbling toward oblivion, and thrust once, twice more, holding my body tight to hers as my orgasm wracks my body.
Pressing my forehead to Stella’s, we hold each other waiting for our hearts to stop racing.
With her, though, mine will never slow down.
“Thank you ...” I say cautiously as I tilt her face toward me, tipping her lips into mine to taste her again. “Thank you for being absolutely perfect for me.”
“I’m glad you’re not thanking me for the sex. We really need to start doing this in a bed more often. I’m getting too old to be flung around like a ragdoll.” She winks at me and smiles before pulling me in for another kiss.
“You sure you want to wait until April to make this legal?”
“No,” she whispers against my lips, “but I think we need the next few months to figure out what we’re doing with the houses and I’d like to have a plan before we get married.”
“We’re being responsible adults.”
Stella chuckles, because since we first saw one another after all these years some might think we’ve acted like anything but responsible adults. We definitely have acting like horny teenagers in the back of my truck and love struck kids while holding hands in public down to a science, but it feels like responsibility has woven itself in and around all those moments, too.
“I think we have a nice even mix of acting our ages and acting like we would have if this had happened fifteen years ago,” she says like she’s reading my mind. “I hope it stays this way forever. I don’t want to feel like our life is routine, Brian. We have been in love with one another since we were practically babies and even though our lives took us in different directions, we’re right back here where it started.”
“In my bathroom connected at the hip?” I cock my eyebrow and give her a crooked grin.
“That dimple. It drives me a little crazy.” She touches my cheek and bites her bottom lip. “But no. I’m talking about fate and the fact we’re right back here in this little town where I first found you.”
“How do you know I didn’t notice you first? You and your pigtails sitting on the swing out back, you looked like an angel.” I swallow hard remembering the first time I saw Stella, all alone in her parents’ backyard. I was supposed to be helping unpack boxes in the kitchen when I saw her through the window. “I couldn’t wait to get to know the girl next door. If I thought I loved you then, I was crazy.”
“I thought I loved you then, but I’ve never loved you more than in this moment,” she says wrapping her legs around my waist and pressing her still naked body as close to mine as she can. “If you’re lucky, I might even love you more than this tomorrow.”
***
We finally made it from the bathroom to the bedroom an hour later, our biggest distraction being what to do about the double home situation. In the end, we left it up in the air because things seem to have a way of working themselves out in the end.
I figure one way or another we’ll have somewhere to live, somewhere to love and somewhere to grow our family.
And maybe if we’re lucky Tommy will want to buy the other house and make an effort to truly settle down instead of crashing in a spare bedroom or on Britt’s floor.
I’m still pondering and mulling over the conversation from the night before when Tommy walks through the backdoor at the coffeehouse. He catches me leaning against the counter, my sleeves pulled halfway up my forearms and a cup of coffee in my right hand.
“You wanna buy a house?”
“Huh? I haven’t had coffee yet. I’m doing this up at five in the morning thing to get down here and need caffeine before you pull shit like that,” he says without stopping to look at me before going out into the coffeehouse. I hear him pull a mug off the shelf, pour a cup and put the pot back on the burner. “Shit!” And burn his mouth.
“You really need to let that cool down before taking a swig,” I say as he walks back through the swinging café doors into the kitchen.
“Too early to remember hot liquid burns. Now, what about buying a house?”
A smile breaks the bleakness of the early morning and I explain the situation — eventually Stella and I are going to have to live together which means at least one house will be available.
“If you’re interested in owning one of the houses, I think we’d prefer selling to family. Steph’s not really in a position to own, but if you want a roommate to help with the bills I’m sure you could talk to her.” I spell it all out for him. There’s no point beating around the bush and hoping he understands what I’m implying. “I don’t think she’s going to be ready to go out on her own again yet, and knowing her she isn’t going to want to live with newlyweds. She isn’t the kind to swallow her pride and move back into the bedroom she had as a kid, either.”
Tommy leans against the opposite counter, blowing across the top of his coffee before taking a tentative sip, and stares at me.
“You forget I’ve met Steph. I know she can’t swallow her pride. She can be a super bitch, too, when her pride’s at stake. Some things just never change.” He takes another sip from his mug and I notice the wary look in his eyes. “It might not be the best idea, but I’ll talk to her. You know she’s going to accuse me of having some knight in scuffed up cowboy boots complex, right?”
I push off from the counter, slapping him on the shoulder as I walk past.
“Yeah, but she’s nothing you can’t handle.”
Stella
Chapter Thirty-Four
“I need a longer headline for our lead story and a shorter head for the rail, Caryn. Help me out here. My brain is fried,” I say without looking up from my desk. It’s not even noon and I’m ready to fall over.
Brian’s parents left a few weeks ago but it’s like all the excitement of them being in town, all the family dinners so our parents could catch up, and the hours I normally put in at the office have totally wiped me out. I thought my energy would make a reappearance after the weekend away at my dad’s hunting cabin, but I came back home more tired than when we left.
Caryn walks over to my desk, red pen in hand. She’s a human thesaurus and within a few minutes has fixed the issue.
“There,” she says with finality. “Let’s get lunch.”
Grabbing my jacket and wallet, I follow Caryn out of the newsroom door and into the brisk January air.
“You calling it an early night tonight? You look like hell.” Caryn’s never really been one to sugarcoat anything.
I try to answer, but instead a yawn sneaks out. “It’s that obvious I’m exhausted?”
Keeping pace so we can get to the pizza shop quickly, she glances over at me. Hands in her pockets, blonde waves blowing back, and a navy peacoat hugging her slim waist, she looks like a head cheerleader instead of a rip your throat out watchdog reporter.
“I think you fell asleep at your computer yesterday afternoon. I’m pretty sure when I walked through the door after my last interview, your head was propped up in your hand like you’d been reading but your eyes were closed and you had a little drool right here —” she points to the corner of her mouth and starts laughing. “You’re going to make yourself sick if you don’t get some sleep.”
“Brian keeps telling me the same thing. It’s just been crazy between his parents being up here and now that the spring semester is in full swing, he’s up before the sun to make sure they have all the display cases filled
, so staying at his place means less sleep than normal. I don’t sleep alone well at my place anymore ... it’s strange. I never had trouble falling asleep when Keith wasn’t home to go to bed with me.” I divulge the information like it’s a state secret, lowering my voice out of fear someone might hear me admit I slept just fine when my ex-husband wasn’t home. “I know it’s a completely different situation. I don’t think I ever loved Keith like I’m in love with Brian. He’s the one I settled for, not the one I longed for.”
As we step through the door to the restaurant, Caryn says, “I think it’s cute how you waited for him ... in a self-destructive married-the-wrong-guy kind of way. Almost makes me think love can be worth the pain it sometimes brings.”
“Greg?”
“We hit a wall. It’s me, though, not him. I don’t even know how to talk about it with him because there are just too many things going on. I’m not even sure where the beginning is.”
“You’ll figure it out,” I say stepping up to the counter to place my order. “Sometimes ... sometimes it just takes time.”
We wait for our food in silence, each likely mulling over the conversation we had as we walked into the building. I’d like to believe I won’t dwell on Caryn and Greg’s relationship status, but I’m the dwelling type. They never officially said they were dating, but they acted like falling in love was certainly on their agenda and I have no idea what happened.
Our names are called, we grab our lunches and head back to the office, bowing our heads to the wind and snow.
***
“I thought you were leaving early?” Caryn says spinning her chair around and placing her elbows on my desk.
“It’s not even three o’clock yet. No way can I leave now. I thought you meant a normal hour when you said ‘early’ earlier ... like six.” She can’t be serious about me going home now. “I feel fine. I just need a cup of coffee.”
I turn to get up from my desk and barely make it to the trashcan in the back of the room before lunch reappears. Caryn’s chair rolls across the newsroom and I hear the heels on her shoes clicking their way toward me. When my stomach stops revolting, my eyes sting and my throat is raw. I want to curl up in a ball and cry.
“Holy shit, Stella. Are you okay?” She’s reaching to move my hair off my forehead as I try to get up off the floor. “You’re so pale, Stell. Can you make it to the bathroom?”
I simply nod my head, fearful if I open my mouth to answer I’ll vomit on her. Grabbing the trashcan, I hug it to my chest while I make my way down the hall to the restroom.
The cool water feels heavenly against my face until I feel another wave of nausea come over me and I’m shoving my head back into the trash. There’s no way I would have made it into a stall.
“I think ... I think I’m okay now,” I say to Caryn as she hands me a wad of damp paper towels.
“You look even worse now. You need to go home and get some sleep.” Caryn sounds like my mom for a second. “It’s flu season. We can’t afford to have you out of the office when there’s usually at least one other person sick every week during the winter. I’m serious, go get rest.”
“I think it was the food. I was feeling fine before I ate.”
“Excuses. Go home and sleep. I’ll button up things here for the night. There isn’t much going on anyway and the paper’s pretty much laid out because, you know, it’s a slow news day and people actually returned calls,” she says, knowing what to say to ease my mind. “There’s no point in you staying if you’re going to be sick and worthless anyway.”
I rub my hands over my face and reach back to pull my hair into a ponytail, praying I didn’t throw up in it.
“Fine. I’ll go. But I’ll be here tomorrow unless I’m on my deathbed.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less, my love,” she says, leading me out of the ladies’ room.
***
“So ... Caryn said you puked at work and blamed it on food,” Steph says from the other side of the shower curtain. I pull the plastic back and glare at her as she slowly lifts her cell phone up for me to see. “She texted me. Wanted to make sure I made you park your ass on the couch with some chicken noodle soup and movies for the night since Brian’s working late for that open mic night Tommy scheduled.”
“Where’s Britt?” I ask, worry replacing the fatigue.
“With mom. She’s going to take him home after dinner to get him ready for bed and stay until Brian gets home since you aren’t feeling well.”
“Sounds like Caryn took care of everything,” I say, sticking my head back under the spray.
“Actually, I called mom. I figured you could use the early night. Since you’ve been nursing me back to health for the last few months, I figure I’ll repay the favor,” she declares, playing with the drawstring on her sweatpants. Soon, the cast is going to come off and she’s going to force me to go shop for new pants since most of hers are missing a leg now. “Besides, we haven’t had much just us sister time.”
“You’re going to chance the flu to watch movies and eat soup with me?” I ask incredulously.
“Well, I’m not going to sit on the same couch as you. I don’t need your cooties. Plus, most people with the flu can barely stand up to take a shower, let alone hold a conversation with this much fluidity. Last time you had the flu you communicated through a series of grunts and groans,” Steph says, standing up from her perch on the edge of the closed toilet. “It was probably just the grease from that calzone, right? You rarely eat that shit anymore.”
I think about what she said. The last time I was sick, it hit out of nowhere and I was down for a good four days.
“Probably was the food. This is nothing like when I get the flu. I’m just so exhausted.” I shut off the water and reach for my towel, wrapping it around myself and stepping from the shower. “I seriously have never been this tired in my entire life. Well, not since college when I was pulling all-nighters, but I haven’t had one of those since Brian and I got together.”
Steph’s watching me expectantly.
“What?” I ask, as I run my fingers through my hair, trying to get the tangles out of it.
“Nothing. I’m just thinking,” she says curiously. “Anyway, since you’re out of the shower, I’m going to go get some soup ready. Figure out what movie you want to watch and I’ll meet you downstairs.”
Then she’s gone from the bathroom and I’m clueless about what just transpired.
But I’m starving and tired.
I yell out the door, “Make me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, too, please!”
Wrapping another towel around my hair, I shuffle down the hall to my bedroom and find Brian’s SU hoodie and a pair of sweatpants I also “borrowed” from him. He’s never getting them back. It’s part of the dating and marriage code.
I sneak down the hidden stairwell to the kitchen and watch Steph hobble around without her crutches making canned soups and tea.
When she notices me leaning against the doorframe, I smile. “It’s nice to be taken care of once in a while. What can I help with?”
“Can you carry this stuff to the living room? I’m starting to hurt from not using the crutches. This stupid broken leg fucks up a lot of stuff,” she spouts off as I grab the tray she put the soups and tea onto. She slowly follows me through the house until we’re settled on the couch, me with my legs folded up under me and her with her good leg propped up on her cast.
“We’re a couple of crazy chicks hanging out on a Thursday night in jammies with soup. If I knew this was how it was going to be getting older I really would have enjoyed college more,” I laugh, grabbing the remotes and turning on Netflix. “Sixteen Candles? Pretty In Pink? I’m in a John Hughes-y mood. Or Breakfast Club?”
“All three, in chronological order.”
“Game on,” I say, holding my fist out for her to bump.
***
“I feel fine Caryn. I’m coming to work.” She’s still talking in the background but I stopped listening.
“You need to let me go so I can put this eyeliner on without stabbing myself in the face. I feel a lot better today after soup and sleeping, so stop trying to mother me. I’ll grab coffees from Brian on my way. You want your regular?”
Caryn huffs out a sigh on the other side of town. “Yeah. I appreciate you getting it. I just don’t even want to go to the coffeehouse because there’s never a day Greg isn’t working. Can’t deal with it right now.”
“You’re going to have to explain all of this to me someday soon, you know. Bri and I thought you two were on fire and then ... I don’t know. It fizzled. It makes me worry a little,” I admit.
“I know. I’ll explain, just not now,” she says and the line goes quiet. “I’ll see you at the office in a bit. I have a few things to get done before I head in.”
I hear the apprehension in her voice but drop it knowing any line of questioning would be for naught.
Eyeliner on, knee-high boots zipped and my hair done, I feel mostly human.
I yell to Steph as I open the back door, letting her know I’m leaving for work, and grab my laptop bag and purse as I walk out onto the porch.
The sub-zero temperature hits me in the face making my eyes water and I hear the red oak tree behind the house crackle angrily from the severe cold. I’m barely in the truck long enough for the heater to kick in before I’m pulling up to the coffeehouse and turning the engine off.
“Hey, Greg. I need my regular and Caryn’s. Large, please,” I say as I walk through the door. The seating area is half full of students on laptops getting their morning caffeine infusion but there’s no line. “Can I grab one of the chocolate chip muffins, too? I’m starving.”
He shakes his head and smiles at me before turning to the coffee selection along the back counter. “Sure thing. I mean, you’re marrying the boss, so I think you could probably ask him to bake you a fresh batch of cookies and it would happen.”
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