It's Complicated

by Julia Kent

  Josie appeared to do the math. “And you’re twenty-nine?”

  “Eight.”

  “Oooo, I'm older than you.”

  “I like my women mature,” he joked.

  “Then find another woman, because 'mature' and 'Josie' definitely do not go together.”

  I doubt that, he thought, but said nothing, just smiling. The silence between them was comfortable. Warm. Tentative.

  Josie broke it. “So she had you…”

  “Had me two days after she graduated high school.”

  “And she earned a Ph.D.?” A low whistle of appreciation escaped her lips. “Smart woman.”

  “Determined woman. You have no idea,” he added.

  “No one wants to date a guy whose mother is an overachieving psychologist. You know that, right?” she teased.

  “Before you decide that, what does your mom do?” he joked back.

  The look on her face made him regret it. “She’s…”

  “You don’t have to answer.”

  Squaring her shoulders, Josie seemed to struggle with how to answer. The pink straps of her tank top faded to light gray in the waning sunlight, the moon peeking out behind a cloud. Tipping her face up to meet his eyes, she seemed ethereal. Like a fairy, the edges of her brown hair glowing slightly, the shine of the low light on her eyes making them more aware than usual.“We’re being open, right?”

  “We’re trying.” You’re trying. Alex was already open.

  “She’s a barfly.”

  “Oh.” What the hell do you say to that?

  “Not quite a Ph.D.” The acerbic tone was back. “And my dad was a librarian.” She said it defensively, as if it counterbalanced her mother's behavior.

  “I’m not judging.” And really, he wasn’t. Whatever made Josie the woman she was—a nurse in a well-respected clinical trial—had been through grit and determination. Just like him. Just like his mom. Scratching the surface of Josie’s shell took some time and hard work. Fortunately, he had both at his disposal, though plenty of the latter. The former depended on her.

  “She wasn’t always like this. The head injury in the accident…” Her voice trailed off. “You know, can we talk about something else?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “How about air fucking?”

  Way to change the subject, right? The look on Alex’s face made Josie laugh out loud, the sound and feeling so desperately needed after getting that deep with him. Never before had she talked to any man she’d dated about her past. Her niece, Darla? Of course. Laura? Sure. Those two, and…

  No one.

  Not true. There was the therapist she saw during the last two years of college. Her lifesaver.

  Talking about her parents with Alex felt like having someone reach into her chest, through bone and sinew and muscle, and wrap their palm around her heart, squeezing it until all the blood dripped out. His reaction allowed the blood back in.

  Restoring basic respiratory and circulatory functioning would take a while.

  Danger sex could provide a shortcut.

  He leaned in and put his lips right next to her earlobe, making her shiver. “Are you serious?”

  “I never joke about air fucking.”

  He inhaled sharply. “Neither do I. Shall we go for a walk?” he asked, gesturing toward the park. Their path had taken them in parallel to it, a block from Josie’s apartment, and they needed to cross the street. A thrill of heat flooded her. Changing the subject had been easy enough—mention sex to any guy and it was like that dog in the movie Up. Squirrel! Truth be told, she was struggling with the whole emotionally open thing and wanted to get back to her comfort zone. Except that wasn’t possible; once she crossed over into the touchy-feely baggage-sharing phase, she couldn’t stuff it all back in.

  And that was okay, because Alex could stuff something else in her.

  Their pace didn’t change, still a slow stroll, but the connection between them had altered from the moment she took the leap, and now the air between their bodies crackled with the forbidden. They crossed the street; Josie noted how few cars were out. By the time they reached the park’s outer edge, she found herself scanning the area with danger sex in mind. The baseball lights weren’t on. Sign #1 that this was meant to be.

  Her eyes landed on a small garden on the far side of a building that typically blocked the view from her apartment. On the occasional walks she’d taken over the years, she’d registered it, but now, as they rounded the building, she realized it was perfect, made for what she and Alex were seeking. Sign #2. Add a trash can and a soft layer of moss and—

  Whoa. Signs #3 and #4 screamed out to her, as if nature (or the Cambridge Parks and Recreation department) had read her mind.

  What a wonderful world.

  Were they really going to—

  Thump. Alex pulled her down on the mossy ground, her nose filling sharply with the rich scent of oregano, the heat of his body against hers a pleasure she would never take for granted.

  Wait—oregano?

  “You smell like Italian food,” he whispered, nuzzling her neck, one hand cupping a breast, his tongue licking right at the base of her earlobe, sending a full-body shiver through her.

  “It’s not me,” she whispered back, fingering the ground cover. “It’s this.” Crushing some of the greenery between her fingers, she held them to his nose, his body pressing onto hers.

  Alex inhaled deeply and said, “We’ll have to try out all the herbs. Oregano today, tarragon tomorrow, and then we need to find a bed of lavender. And…”

  His mouth crushed into hers, hands flying up her camisole, hot and fevered. The sidewalk was not five feet away, their bodies hidden by a small hedge and a bench, the chance of getting caught reasonably high. It made the blood pound into her clit, her breasts swell with excitement, and her mouth match his in intensity, the kiss transmitting a racy need to slam against him, to have his hands claim her, his cock hammering her, all under the open night sky as they took each other’s bodies as nature intended.

  With the stars as the audience.

  Unlike the languid, luxurious night in her apartment a few days ago, this was fast and furious, her hands on his pants, unsnapping and unzipping, his fingers nimble with her shorts, pulling down, the cool night air smacking against skin that typically didn’t touch outdoor breezes. His fingers slipped inside her, in and out, making her hips buck against them. Her Crocs flew off her feet, one settling under a hedge, the other next to the only park bench in the little garden.

  Preliminaries be damned—she wanted him in her.

  Now.

  He didn’t need to be told, fumbling in a back pocket for his wallet. A condom appeared out of nowhere.

  “You planned for his?” she gasped, his fingers out of her now, her body aching to be filled by him.

  “Yes,” he chuckled, rolling it on as she laced her legs around his hips.

  “God, I love y—” she blurted out as he entered her, the last word gurgling to a screeching halt in the back of her throat as he thrust nice and deep, filling her with everything she needed at once, her eyes taking in the shadows from the greenery about them, the handful of stars she could catch in the city sky, the blinking red light of a jet overhead…

  Oh, no.

  No, no, no, no, no.

  She did not just say that.

  She did not.

  She did—

  “I love this, too,” he murmured in her ear, his arms on either side of her head, his face hidden by the inky darkness. A quick kiss, and then a hurried thrust as she quickened her own movements, the swollen need inside her clamping down as her orgasm rose up, stretching tall, elongating, ready to strike.

  An out. “I love this so much,” she answered, speaking slowly, as if that’s what she’d intended to say all along. “So much.”

  Their kisses disintegrated into simple connections, heated presses against each other as her body went rigid, all her nerves in concert as she hissed, “Alex, I’m—” Col
ored clouds exploded behind her closed eyes as she groaned and pushed up into him, her inner core tightening so hard her diaphragm seemed to spasm, her slickness and his enormity working together to make some third wave between them. She bit his earlobe as he bent down to change the angle, her hands grasping his waist, pulling up against him as a moan caught in her throat, the urge to cry out muted by the need to be quiet, to avoid being caught.

  Alex’s body went tight, a growl in his throat as she bit him, his own climax evident in the way his hips stopped moving, how his thighs halted, their bodies trapped by their own heat and fire burning through and, now out, as they each finished. A dog barked, the sound too close for comfort, and the two of them scrambled apart. Alex turned away as he dressed, and Josie hiked up her shorts with one hand while the other combed bits of oregano out of her hair. Her body still humming from what they’d just done.

  Maybe she really was starting to love him. The thought remained a thought, thank goodness, her mouth firmly closed. She could think it as much as she wanted, right? As long as she didn’t say it.

  Because who actually has danger sex and likes it?

  Dr. Perfect. Of course.

  As if nothing had just happened, Josie parked her ass on the bench in the little garden, whistling an off-key tune. Alex went around the corner to a water fountain, the sound of running water her clue. He came back and sat next to her, stretching an arm across the back of the bench, looking up at the night sky, whistling with her.

  They burst into laughter.

  A little corgi came around the corner, sniffing right where Josie and Alex had just had sex, the oregano apparently not enough scent to throw it off track.

  “Oh. Hello!” A young guy, high school age, wearing a Red Sox cap and a matching Sox t-shirt, pulled on the dog’s leash.

  “Hi!” they said in unison.

  “C’mon, Daisy. What’s gotten into you?” he asked the dog as she bore down on the spot, sniffing furiously.

  “Must be trying to claim her turf,” Alex said in a gee whiz voice.

  “G’night,” the kid said, walking off, practically dragging poor Daisy down the street.

  “That was close,” Josie muttered.

  “That was fun,” Alex countered, kissing her.

  Bam! The Klieg lights came on, bathing them in a flash of blinding light.

  “What the fuck?” Josie shouted.

  Headlights began streaming in and parking in the small lot behind a community center, directly behind them. Adult voices. People on the baseball field.

  “Holy shit,” Alex said under his breath, adding a low whistle of shock.

  “Danger sex, indeed,” she whispered in his ear, giving his lobe a nip. “That was really close. Next time we should try this little garden off the library over in – ”

  “I know that one! With the giant Rose of Sharon bushes?” He stood, extending a hand to her. She took it and the two scurried around the non-baseball-field side of the park, avoiding people. By the time they found their way across the street, they were in front of Josie’s building, and Alex checked his phone. She was still stunned that he knew the exact library garden she was talking about. Eerie. How? She started to ask, but he spoke first.

  “I have to be at work in the morning, but we can go back to my apartment and finish that wine…” He snuggled up to her, hips against her navel, arms around her shoulders. His embrace felt so inviting.

  “You need your sleep.”

  “You sound like my mother,” he said, smiling. “Who you should meet sometime,” he added.

  A huge lump formed in her throat. “Uh…” she drawled. “The clinical psychologist?”

  He began to guide her down the street to his place. She stopped him. “I actually have to be at work in the morning, too, Alex. So…”

  Uncertain, he stopped, studying her carefully. “I don’t want you to think I just called you for sex.”

  “I’m offended.”

  “I was worried about that!” he exclaimed, running a hand through his hair.

  She swatted at a mosquito on her shoulder. “I’m offended that you wouldn’t call me for just sex.”

  “Huh?”

  “I’m not good enough for a booty call?” Joke with him. Catch him off center. Step away from the mother talk. Dear God, you told him you loved him during sex. Get the fuck out of here, Josie. The voice in her head was screaming at her.

  “Ah. I get it.” Smiling, he pulled her in for a toe-curling kiss. She could get used to this. Very used to this.

  Too comfortable.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow?” he asked.

  She nodded. As they parted, he made it halfway down the block and then ran back, an arm snaking around her waist and cinching her to him, the final kiss deep and exploring.

  “It’s not just sex.”

  “No. It’s not,” she replied.

  And that’s the problem.

  Chapter Ten

  “Hey! Howzitgoin’?” Darla’s voice boomed through her smartphone. Hitting “pause” on her movie, Josie curled up with Dotty in her lap, wondering what her niece was up to.

  Niece. Cousin. Technically, they were cousins, but considering the seven-and-a-half-year age difference, and the fact that Josie had practically helped raise Darla after their dads died in the car accident, they just called each other “aunt” and “niece,” finding it easier. There was no rhyme or reason to it—Darla had just started calling her Aunt Josie when she was four and they lived together while their moms recovered in separate hospitals, and it stuck.

  “It’s going. How about you?”

  “Booooooooring. Everything is so booooooring here. Nothing fun ever happens. I’m about to drive home from my shift and it’s soooooooo dull.”

  “I see nothing’s changed back home.”

  Darla snorted. A cash register dinged in the muffled distance. “Nope. What about you?”

  She thought about spilling her guts about Alex, but stopped herself. Her mom and Aunt Cathy always hoped Josie would meet and marry a doctor, and then everything would be just perfect, as if she’d be rescued from her own life. For Marlene, she knew, a physician for a son-in-law meant money. Maybe access to pills. Ah, the delusions of a woman with the conscience of a cockroach and the narcissism of Kim Jong Il.

  Her hesitation made Darla ask, “Josie? You got something to say?”

  “No. Not really.”

  “‘Not really’ is different from ‘no.’” Darla was fishing, and she was right—Josie wanted a friend to talk to, and Laura hadn’t answered her texts or two voicemails yet. She was bursting.

  “True.”

  “Aaaannnnnnd….?”

  “Hypothetically…”

  “Unicorns and fairies are hypothetical.”

  “So is my story, if I’m going to tell it.”

  “Fine.”

  “Hypothetically, imagine you’re dating a guy who makes you feel like you can trust him. Like he doesn’t judge you.”

  “Oh, look!” Darla shouted. “A unicorn with a fairy on its back, shitting gold coins!”

  Sigh. “I know. Right? Impossible.”

  “Hey, if you found one of those guys, I wouldn’t tell anyone. It’s like having a winning lottery ticket. You cash it in all quiet-like and don’t say a word. Just go off on a trip to Disney World and act like you’re in the hospital for a bunion or something.”

  “You’re comparing the guy I’m dating to a bunion?”

  “You’re dating? Josie, you never date! You make fun of men, grind into them with your body, and only spare them the black-widow treatment if they’re lucky.”

  “Shut up.”

  “You’re my idol. That wasn’t a criticism.”

  “It’s so touching how you support me emotionally, Darla.”

  “I aim to please.”

  Josie laughed, the air now cleared of any desire to pour out her heart. “Why did you call? To bust my chops?”

  “No.” Darla’s voice went quiet. “I jus
t missed talking.”

  “You could come out and visit, you know.” Every phone conversation ended like this. “I’ll pay for the plane ticket.”

  “If you do that, Aunt Marlene will wonder why you didn’t send her the money for one.”

  “So we’ll find a way. What my mom thinks shouldn’t stop you from visiting.”

  “You aren’t the one who has to live around her and hear the non-stop bitching.”

  Bile rose in Josie’s throat. Getting away from the enmeshed chaos of her mother had been nearly impossible, but she’d done it. That Marlene could somehow manipulate family dynamics so that Darla felt she couldn’t even come to Cambridge for a visit made her temper explode and her heart crack in two at the same time. How could she hope to have some sort of future with Alex when her past was such a burden? His clinical psychologist mother was from a different world. Her mom was a harpy in Lycra with a massive entitlement complex.

  Shit, she’d probably hit on Alex if given the chance. The thought made Josie gag.

  “Ewww, you sick? Or was your cat hacking up a hairball?” Darla asked.

  “No, just thinking of something unpleasant.”

  “Like home?” Darla laughed; Josie joined her, though neither added much mirth to it.

  The sound of wind filled the phone. “You outside?”

  “Yeah. Gotta go get in the car and head home. I’ll check in with you later in the week.”

  “Okay.” Josie felt deprived. Empty. Full. Like an abyss of everything and nothing dragged at her from the belly. As Darla got off the phone, Josie stared at her living room. A quick flash of Crackhead confirmed the cat was still alive. Dotty wasn’t eating all the cat food, then.

  She felt utterly alone and in need of a good talk. A quick check of her phone and—nope. No answer from Laura. Between her mother’s dominion over everyone in Ohio, holding them captive through sheer craziness and narcissism, and Laura’s new, baby-filled life, she felt like the only way to manage the churning newness of Alex was to hold it all back. Shut it down. Close up and stick to what she knew.

  His comment, after their amazing oregano sex, about Josie meeting his mom, made her gut seize up and her lungs freeze. He was so normal. His mom was a clinical psychologist superwoman who had a baby as a teenager and raised him to be a doctor. They were normal people, not like her family. No dead father, no mom who tried to fuck the band director at her college graduation. And the band director wasn’t the only faculty member her mom had come on to.