Lost

by Jennifer Davis

  “Ok, ok. I promise to put one ear bud in so I can only listen to half of what you’re saying.” His gray eye winks at us, and we watch his ashy hair fade below the cube wall.

  “Ugh, where were we?” Sarah asks rhetorically. “Oh, yeah. Jess, you weren’t exactly angelic that night, so maybe Jack’s sins are forgivable? All I’m saying is talk to him. At least see him to get back your favorite shirt. That has to be worth it.”

  “Maybe you’re right”—I laugh—“100% Egyptian cotton with five years of wear and a rip in the seam is surely a reason to forgive cheating.”

  “Just give him a chance. I know misery may love company, but this company does not love your misery.”

  ***

  My heart seems to have moved into my throat on the drive over to Jack’s house. Damn Sarah for talking me into this. Worst case you get your shirt, and some closure. I remind myself of the reasons I’m doing this. I loathe these types of conversations. They’re so adult. So painful. Why can’t we all just shut down our feelings and go drink our sorrows away in a dark apartment? I recall my tried and true method of managing my emotions.

  I still have to fight my excitement to see him. My fantasies want it to all be a misunderstanding. For us to get back to where we were before. To pick up the on-the-verge-of-love relationship we had in spite of this. But how could I trust him anyway? Be realistic, Jess. My brain prepares me for the worst. It’s over. Just get your stuff and get out. He’s probably officially back with Lela anyway. What if he just wants the earrings back? He must’ve spent a fortune on them.

  My wobbly finger rings the bell and I try not to faint and/or shit my pants as I hear the approaching footsteps get louder. Here goes nothing.

  Wait, how do I greet him? Normally he would give me a hug and kiss hello, but that’s when we were dating. And I was his girlfriend. What about now?

  “Hey there!” Jack greets me with a kind voice. He’s still dressed in his work clothes, dark gray pants with a blue and white patterned button-up, covered with a navy blue wool sweater. He always looks so handsome when he’s dressed up this way. Damn good-looking, cheating asshole. “It’s pretty cold outside, come on in,” Jack instructs me. I walk inside his familiar home, normally warm and inviting, but much more intimidating today. I step inside the foyer and Jack closes the door behind me.

  “I know, it was in the sixties on Sunday, and now they’re saying there’s a chance of snow tonight.”

  “Do you think it will actually snow? Or is everyone just worrying about nothing?” he asks me.

  “In my many years of living here, it’s very rare for us to get snow in late March. But the weathermen usually like to give us a scare every year or so. I think they’re in cahoots with the grocery stores to help clear out the stale bread inventory every once in a while.”

  Jack laughs. “You’re probably right. Well, I won’t keep you here too late in case there is any truth to the inclement weather.” My heart sinks as his words settle in. I guess he has a short agenda in mind then.

  We settle into the sofa, red wine in hand, with a blazing fire a few feet in front of us. I decide to let Jack lead the conversation; after all, he’s the one that has explaining to do. So you’re not going to explain your “adventure” with Mr. Lust? I shake the embarrassing, yet memorable, mistake from my mind, and focus on the man in front of me.

  “How’s the wine?” Jack asks me as I finish my first sip. He sits a few feet away from me on the couch, his body turned toward me in a relaxed position. Is this how adults handle breakups? Red wine and fireside conversation?

  “It’s great,” I say with a forced, nervous smile. I sit in the awkward silence, waiting for Jack to lead the conversation there, or at least somewhere else. I nervously bite my lip and gaze at the fire to avoid his eyes.

  “Well, I guess we should talk about what you came here to talk about,” Jack finally says.

  I glance back at him with a nervous smile. “Ok.”

  Jack takes a deep breath before he dives in to the conversation. “The truth is, Jess, I’ve had a great time with you since we met. I’ve never met anyone like you, and I haven’t fallen for someone as quickly as I fell for you. In some ways, it really caught me off guard.” I watch him intently as he shifts his wine glass between hands, seemingly preparing for the uncomfortable “but” that inevitably follows. I hold my breath as he continues. “When I went out to Colorado I had a chance to see my friends, and really think about things for a few days. And in my soul-searching I realized two things: one, that I really care for you, and two, that idea scares me.” His words settle me momentarily. They don’t include the “but” that I was expecting, but now I’m at a loss for what comes next. What about Lela?

  “Ok,” I say, prompting him to continue.

  “And then two more things happened. My ex-girlfriend, Leland, was also on the skiing trip.” Oh, fuck. Here we go. I swallow hard. “I didn’t want her to be there, but she’s still friends with these people too, and I didn’t think it was my place to say she couldn’t come.” He lets out a deep exhale and I can barely breathe. I knew it. They’re back together. Get to the point. Please. Now. Every second that he waits I create the worst possible scenario in my head, and by now they’ve undressed each other and she’s licking his balls in my brain.

  “I feel like such an ass even telling you this, but I don’t want to lie to you about anything.” Jack looks deep in my eyes and I see the concern and pain that he’s harboring inside.

  “It’s ok.” Must. Remain. Calm. And get his balls out of your mouth, you slut! I slap the wench in my vision.

  Jack’s eyes move down to his wine glass. Oh, God, he can’t even look at me when he says this part. “Well she was really flirty with me and I brushed her off most of the time, but we were both very drunk one night and, well, we kissed.” Jack looks back up at me with his brow furrowed and shame dripping off of him. He watches for my response, but I don’t even know what to say to that. Is he telling me it’s over?

  “So that’s what I heard.” I pause. “On the phone that night. That’s why she answered the phone. You rekindled things.” I squeak out the words, unable to fully verbalize their reconnection.

  He shakes his head slowly. “No. Not exactly. I’m really sorry that happened. It didn’t mean anything to me. Really.” He goes silent and looks away again, taking a sip of his wine as his expression appears remorseful.

  So there it is. He did make out with his ex-girlfriend. Asshole. The idea of them together punches me in the gut, even though it simply confirms what I already knew.

  “You’re being really quiet.”

  “I didn’t think you had finished your thought,” I prompt him, unsure of where to take this.

  “Jess, I know this isn’t how you wanted to hear this, but kissing her—well, it made me realize something.” He pauses, locking his eyes in mine, and letting out a sigh. “That I love you.” My heart stops to contemplate this revelation, and I feel myself wanting to believe him. The words repeat again and again in my brain, and my paused heartbeat begins to flutter rapidly. He loves me?

  “Baby, I care about you. So much. And I’m sorry for the stupid mistake I made, and for making you feel like you were an afterthought to me. That was never the case.” Jack’s hand reaches over and grabs mine. That same pull between us hasn’t changed at all, and now feels even stronger than ever. I pull my fingers around his, letting him know that I feel the same way.

  Does this mean he’s thinking of us having a future together? What about my own transgression? Do I come clean about Max? He was honest with me after all. But would that really do me any good? Or would that ruin any chance we have of working things out? I know that it was a stupid circumstantial mistake, so is it really worth the trouble it could cause? I find myself so lost in thought, staring at the fire, that I don’t realize Jack is staring into me, awaiting a reaction.

  “Jess, I missed you so much.”

  “Me, too,” I respond honestly, without filt
ering my emotions. Jack moves toward me in a quick, swift movement. He reaches his hand behind my head, his fingers sliding through my hair. His grip tightens, pulling me, needing me, wanting me. I lift my hand to his cheek and stroke his smooth skin gently. I take in his familiar scent and feel the pull of him deep, deep inside of me. Our eyes are locked and we speak without words. Somehow we both know that all is forgiven, and that we both need each other.

  Jack leans into me, breaking the gaze, and plants his sweet lips onto mine. My body tightens, unable to control the feelings from deep inside of me. My tongue meets his and I begin to melt away. The lustful pulses shoot like lightning bolts throughout me, and I reach my hands to his face and begin stroking his smooth skin. He moves his arms around me, and I feel his strength as his arms tighten and pull me closer into him. His succulent lips pull at mine, with gentle but passionate nips and nibbles.

  My body sits close to him now and I shift my arms around his neck. God, I want him. I force myself to pull my lips away from his magnetic draw, giving us both a chance to catch our breath. I rest my head on his shoulder and hold him tightly, relishing in his strong, loving arms that hold me. We sit there quietly for a moment, unable to see each other, tied up closely in our embrace. After a minute or so goes by, Jack releases me just enough so that I can pull my body from his. He takes my hands and gives them a squeeze while looking me straight in the eye. His face turns into a saddened smile before he finally speaks. “I missed you, Jess.” He pauses with a serious face. “I’m not usually one to admit this, but I was crushed this past week. You’ve cast some kind of spell on me.”

  I squeeze his hands back, grateful for the reassurance. “I missed you.” As I mutter these words I think back to all of the mistakes I’ve made. Those that Jack doesn’t even know about but that do still fill me with guilt.

  “I need you, Jess. Don’t leave me.” He pulls my arm, forcing me to get closer to him, and his sweet vulnerability draws me in.

  “I’m here. I’m yours,” I whisper into his ear and then lean over his horizontal body and place my lips on his. He pulls my hair, wrenching my body and my desires. He quickly unbuttons my pants, and I tear at his. I lower my hovering body and he slides right into me. We let out a simultaneous groan into each other’s mouths as he fills me completely. I pull my chest upright so I can see his face and the pleasure plastered across it while I move my body. My arousal continues to grow with each slow churn of my hips, and my eyes focus on his. Our gaze connects us further, elevating this sexual act to a sensual connection.

  My sweet, vulnerable Jack, finally exposing his soul, and now revealing his raw sexiness with each thrust of his body. His hands slide easily underneath my shirt and his fingers climb their way up to my waist. He guides my hips, controlling the movement and speed. Faster. And faster. And even faster I grind against him, causing the sensation deep inside me to build with each movement. Jack lifts my blouse over my head, leaving me exposed, save my bra.

  He slides his finger inside the lacy fabric, scooping out my breast for his viewing pleasure. I lean my chest down to kiss him again, hungrily nibbling on his plump lips. I pull back up to resume my speed and Jack swiftly unhooks my bra, fully exposing my ample upper curves. He gently guides my chest forward so that I lean into him, but this time I bend straighter so that his sweet lips have direct access to my perched nipples. His tongue is the first sensation that I feel. He gently sucks on my nipple, pulling it harder and forcing a moan to slip out of my mouth. I slowly move my hips back and forth, causing him to slide in and out. And in. And out. Nice and slow, allowing my orgasm to build with each slow stroke invigorating my clitoris. He switches to my other breast, and I groan again at the sensation on this neglected part. I continue sliding back and forth against him until my explosion rises against my control. My body clenches in preparation and I pull Jack’s face to mine, finding my release as my tongue slides into his mouth. His arms clench around me, pulling me in tighter to him, and as we kiss sweetly I feel him let go into me.

  nineteen

  “You ready?” Jack asks me, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze as we walk outside of the small, but clean, Portland airport. Maine’s fresh air and sunshine greet us as we wait outside for Jack’s brother.

  “Yeah, a little nervous I guess,” I say honestly, while smoothing the wrinkles in my navy and white cotton dress.

  “You have nothing to be nervous about. My family will love you as much as I do.” Jack leans in and gives me a sweet kiss, weakening my knees as his soft lips meet mine. I kiss him back with an equally love-filled kiss. My feelings for him have grown even stronger since our misadventures, his kiss with Lela, and my sloppy semi-whoreness with Mr. Lust. In just three weeks we’ve gone from almost never speaking again to me joining him on his trip home to meet his family and celebrate his brother’s engagement. It feels a bit fast, but for once it feels so right.

  “Hey, get a room!” Jack pulls his lips from mine and turns toward the approaching car. A preppy, almost twin-like version of Jack jumps from an open-air jeep to greet us. My face reddens from our overt PDA, not exactly the first impression I was looking to make with Jack’s family.

  “Wells!” Jack calls to his near Irish twin, the two separated in age by only fourteen months. Their identical builds, similar broad features, and sparkling blue eyes easily confirm they share DNA. The only visible difference is the shaggier, blonder, and wavier hair that Wells sports, compared to Jack’s shorter, ashier blond locks.

  “Hey, man.” Jack gives an excited hug to his big brother.

  “This must be the one and only Jess!” Wells wraps me in a warm embrace, helping me to instantly feel welcome.

  “Great to meet you! And congratulations. I’ve heard only great things about Gabby,” I say.

  “Thanks, yeah we’re excited. Come on. Mom and Dad are eager to meet the girl that’s got our Jack so smitten. And so quickly!” Wells’s comment unsettles me a little. I know things with Jack are moving fast, but are they too fast? Can a love that develops this fast really be the real thing?

  ***

  The jeep navigates the picturesque streets of South Portland, and the fresh ocean air rejuvenates me for the task at hand: meeting who could become my future in-laws. Slow down, Jess. Who do you think you are, Mom and Dad? I shudder away the thought of their six-month courtship turned decades-long tumultuous and adulterous relationship. That’s not what I want. Not with Jack, not with anyone. I want love. True, unconditional love. And for once, I’m starting to believe I might not only deserve it, but that I’ve found it.

  We stop in front of a large, stunning, Hamptons-style home. The two-story blue home is covered with cedar shingles, and welcomes guests with a grand, circular, pebble driveway with a perfectly sculpted line of boxwoods. It’s no surprise that Jack and his seemingly perfect family have a perfect house, too.

  Mrs. Clarke is the first to greet us, and she quickly jumps from her perch on their oversized yet welcoming front porch. Her smile is as infectious as Jack’s, wide and happy. She wears little makeup, and her dark hair falls to her chin framing her round face and brilliantly blue eyes. She wears cropped white pants and a warm red linen sweater, looking very beachy chic.

  “Oh, such a wonderful sight, my two precious boys together again! It’s been too long,” she gushes as she gets sandwiched in a hug by her loving sons. “And Jess, we are just so thrilled to have you here. We’ve heard so much about you, dear.” She wraps me in a warm hug hello, as a handsome, gray-haired man emerges. He carries a strong build similar to his sons’, and his smiling eyes match the shade of his hair.

  “It’s lovely to be here. Thank you so much for having me, Mrs. Clarke.” I return her hug, grateful for the warm, loving welcome.

  “Don’t be silly, dear, please call me Annie.”

  “Thank you, Annie.”

  “And please call me Alan,” Jack’s father says as he wraps me in a kind hug hello. “It’s certainly better than what these knuckleheads call me!” H
e releases a jolly laugh and escorts me inside their beautiful home.

  ***

  The serene view of Casco Bay captivates my attention, distracting me for a moment from the engagement party that surrounds me. I rest my champagne on the edge of the balcony, breathing in the salty air. I imagine Jack as a boy, growing up in this beautiful home, with breathtaking scenery and a family that loved him so obviously, so unconditionally. God, he’s so lucky. I think of my own childhood, spent in an equally beautiful home, surrounded by a lush golf course, but filled with anxiety and self-doubt. It’s apparent from watching Jack and Wells interact with their parents the last few days how “normal” their family is. They have fun together, like spending time together, and are even capable of filling time with meaningful conversation.

  “There’s my beautiful date,” Jack’s voice sings into my ears as he wraps an arm around me, joining my viewing party.

  “Hi,” I gush at him. He looks unbelievably preppy cute in his white and blue seersucker pants and complementary blue polo. His tan leather shoes are woven and airy, perfect for this warm spring air.

  “Who are you hiding from? Better not be me.” Jack smiles, giving me a squeeze.

  “No, just my other boyfriend,” I tease him.

  “Oh yeah? You must work quickly. You’ve only been in Maine for forty-eight hours. Is he here? Let’s give him a show!” Jack grabs me and dips me backward into a full-on kiss. I can't help but feel that pull for him as our lips meet. We haven't had much alone time since arriving here, given his parents’ traditional ways and our separate bedrooms. I kiss him back hard, and begin to get lost into him, before remembering where we are. I give his hand a squeeze as it creeps down my cobalt silk dress, not wanting to put on a show, or steal it from the betrothed couple.