by Brianna Cash
“I don’t know, I like my job. When I was a kid, I wanted to be a famous football player or a mailman. Yes, a mailman,” he confirms, seeing my surprised face. “But I like what I do now. It’s not mentally stressful, so at the end of the day, I can leave it all there. I don’t bring problems home, like what I didn’t get done, or what I have to do the next day. I don’t have emails coming in at all hours. I go in, do my job, and leave.”
“What exactly do you do there?”
“I drive a forklift, loading and unloading trucks.”
“Really?” I ask, more excited than I should be. “I’ve always wanted to do that. Not the loading thing, I’ve always wanted to drive a forklift. I think it would be fun.”
“It’s not all that thrilling when you do it day in and day out, but it’s not bad, either.”
“So, you’re saying you’d do exactly what you’re doing now?”
Walker shrugs his shoulders, explaining, “I don’t want to be famous and I don’t want to deliver mail in the snow or rain, so, sure.”
“Well then, my answer is better than yours this time, so you have to kiss me.”
“Good,” he mumbles, eyeing me sitting across from him on my bed. “Come here.”
“I need to come to you?”
“No, but you should. It’ll be a lot more fun if you’re closer.”
Rolling my eyes, I move towards him, crawling on my hands and knees as he smiles seductively at my progress. Once I’m practically on top of him, he closes that beautiful mouth over mine, kissing me with enough intensity to make me feel like I’m drowning in a sea of want for him. His hands push past my face, up into my hair and he pulls me closer still. Soon, I’m sitting on his lap, my legs around his waist as his tongue invades my mouth, making me ache for him in a way that will surely drive me insane until he leaves, and I get to play with our toy.
Walker lies back on my bed, pulling me down with him until I’m straddling him again. His hands find their way under my shirt to slide up my back, his touch igniting little fires along my skin that lead straight between my legs.
Suddenly, I’m on my back, with Walker on top of me.
Yes. This I like. This I can get used to, clothes or no clothes. His mouth leaves mine for a second, then comes right back at a different angle, one that allows him to kiss me deeper. Rocking my pelvis towards him, I groan at the contact, at the hardness pressing between my legs, wanting so much more, with so much less in the way.
Then he’s gone.
Blinking my eyes open, I look around, dazed, wondering exactly what happened to stop that fun ride. Walker’s standing at the side of my bed, looking down at me with a grin on his face and a very hard bulge straining against his pants.
Oh, that jerk! He probably thinks that was suitable payback for my short kiss to him earlier.
“I’m changing my mind about that last answer…” he says, his voice rough and uneven. “I want the job of turning you on and getting you off as often as necessary. I have a feeling I’ll have to pull overtime every day, but I think I’m the best person for the job.”
Flashing a smile, I change my mind, too. “I want to be your supervisor.”
He chuckles, shaking his head slightly. “Course you do.”
“No,” I tell him, letting an idea play in my mind. “I really did change my mind.”
He raises an eyebrow, waiting for my new answer, even though I’m terrified to say it out loud. Can I voice it? Can I admit it to him? I suppose if I’m going to admit it to anyone, it should be him, since I agreed to let him in. Sitting up, I drastically change the subject and admit something I never even fully admitted to myself. “I wanna be a mom. That’s the job I want more than any other.”
“It seems like you kind of already are a mom.”
“Only a substitute. And I was totally unqualified when I got the job.”
“You’d want to have your own kids, then? I thought maybe you’d be sick of taking care of other people, no matter how old, and want to focus on yourself.”
“No,” I assure him, feeling like this is way too early in our relationship to be having a talk about wanting babies. “I want my own kids, eventually. Now that I’m not a kid myself, anymore.”
He simply nods before reaching into the messy pile of cards on my side of the bed. “Next question,” I vaguely hear him say. “What is the best compliment you’ve ever received?”
He lays on the bed next to me, getting comfortable once again. “I’ve got two answers for this one. The first one is when this girl I really like had an orgasm just from kissing me. And the way she did it? Like she had no control, like getting kissed by me turned her on so much, her body just took over and bam! She was coming apart in my arms and looking like the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen... That’s the best compliment I’ve gotten, by far.”
Smiling at my heated cheeks, he goes on, doing his best to prove my secrets are safe with him, “But if anyone other than you should ask, it’s when my sister told me I’m gonna be an awesome dad. Your turn. What’s the best compliment you’ve ever gotten?
After side-eyeing him, I roll onto my side and prop my head in my hand, mirroring Walker and his lazy position. “Callie gave me some really wise advice the other day, and I couldn’t believe it was coming from her. I feel like such a screw-up when it comes to her and Calvin, but she told me that I taught her right, and it almost made me cry.”
“How long have you been teaching your siblings about life?” Walker asks quietly, his eyes intent on mine.
This is it. This is when I either let him in, or keep shutting him out.
It’s been a really long time since I’ve told anyone the truth. I didn’t even really tell Paul. I only ever told him parts of it.
Walker deserves all of it.
Reaching out, I take his hand and move closer, laying my head on the arm that’s propping up his head, his eyes still watching me. Once I’m comfortable, I begin my story.
I don’t leave anything out. I start with the day I got the news, that fateful last class I was ever in. The phone call that interrupted the entire lecture hall and had the professor cursing and glaring at me as I walked out, trying to figure out if what I’d just heard was real or some kind of cruel, sick joke. The tearful drive home from school, the one I never should have taken, because to this day, I still don’t remember how I got to my car, let alone home in one piece. Trying to arrange the funerals, and deal with the onslaught of questions and advice from neighbors and friends who thought they knew what I needed to hear to grieve and move on with my life. Feeling so very alone and scared and lost. Being told that Callie and Calvin would be put into the foster system if I didn’t step up and take legal guardianship of them.
I even admit how I didn’t step up at take legal guardianship of them. Not at first. I was too young and stupid to take care of myself, how could I take care of them, too?
But then they were gone, and I literally had no one. And that was even more terrifying than the thought of trying to take care of them was.
Walker’s silent the entire time, his eyes letting me know I’ve got his undivided attention. He doesn’t interrupt me or ask questions. He simply lets me tell my story, and occasionally squeezes the hand he’s still holding. And when I’m done, he has the best reaction anyone ever has when learning about even part of my story. He tells me he’s proud of me, and that I did the right thing. Then he says I’m amazing, strong, and brave.
I’ve always wondered what would’ve happened if I hadn’t done it. Would Callie and Calvin have gotten better opportunities, would they have had better lives with someone else? We weren’t that close before our parents died, and my younger siblings suddenly having to listen to me was a rough transition. And me suddenly having to make decisions for all of us instead of just myself was the hardest transition, at least for me. I tried really hard to not let anyone see that.
While Callie, Calvin and I are close now, I’ve always prayed that was enough of a trade-off for how
much better their lives might’ve been. I was just a young, scared kid, who had no idea what I was doing with them. I just knew I was going to screw them up somehow. It was inevitable.
Somehow, we all turned out ok.
It feels so good to hear someone tell me I did the right thing. And it’s been so long since someone has told me they’re proud of me that my eyes go cloudy with unshed tears.
I don’t know what to do with these emotions in front of Walker. When he lowers his head to mine, I gladly accept his kiss, the one that tells me he’s here for me and he believes in me, although I don’t know how he can. His thumb brushes away the moisture on my cheeks, and he moves so he’s behind me, wrapping his body around mine and giving me space to come to terms with my emotions, while still being here if I need him.
It’s everything I’ve ever wanted and didn’t know how or who to ask for it from. And with Walker, I don’t even need to ask, he just somehow knows. He somehow knows me, even with me telling him very little about myself. Is it possible that maybe he’s simply right for me? That maybe we won’t go down in flames, like I originally predicted? Maybe we’ll get our own happily ever after, instead?
Pushing aside all my crazy thoughts, I pull Walker’s arm closer around me, focusing on the here and now. I’m thankful beyond words that he’s still here, and that he knows exactly what I need to feel less vulnerable after pushing through my fears and telling him my story. Lacing my fingers through his, I pray he knows how much I trust him. And I fall asleep that way, feeling safe and protected, for the first time in as long as I can remember.
Walker
Genny’s story blows me away. Callie’s version was simple, to the point, matter of fact. Genny’s was full of emotion, the biggest one being fear. Fear of letting me see how she felt, but also the fear of regret. How she could still be questioning whether she did the right thing for her siblings ten years later lets me know just how unsure of her role with them she is. But Callie seems like a well-adjusted, happy college student, and Genny has so much to do with that. I haven’t met Calvin, but I would bet he turned out just as well.
Her tears break my heart. The fact that she’s embarrassed to cry in front of me tells me how rarely she lets people in. But she did for me, and I try to show her that I’m here for her in whatever way she needs me to be. When she falls asleep in my arms, I lie with her, thinking, for a long time. Way longer than I should.
I have no idea what time Genny has to get up for work. Pulling out my phone, I text Callie to see if she’s still awake. She seems to be a night owl, always up late. She promises she’ll get Genny up for work and I try to slowly extricate my body from Genny’s. It’s a lot harder than I thought it would be, simply because I know she gave me her trust tonight, and pulling away from her is the last thing I want to do.
There’s some left-over paper on her nightstand and I grab one of the pens we were using for our game to write her a quick note, referencing the first text I ever sent her. When she asked me how I knew her name would be spelled different from the normal Jenny. I’d texted her then that I had a feeling she was one in a million. My note tonight is simple, telling her now I know she is.
Callie’s downstairs at the table after I sneak out of Genny’s room. Arching her eyebrow, she declares, “You’re either boring Genny to sleep or you gave in and had sex with her. I really thought you’d last longer, Walker.”
Chuckling at her directness, I disappoint her even further. “None of the above, Cal. She told me about your parents. About everything she felt and how scared she was to take care of you and your brother after it happened.”
Callie freezes, eyeing me with suspicion. “Are you sure? She doesn’t talk about that stuff. Not even to Myra.”
“I’m sure Myra knows, you probably just weren’t eavesdropping during that conversation.”
She shakes her head with wide eyes. “Myra knows what happened, but she’s asked me how Genny dealt with all of it, because she was different after it happened. Different than she was when they went to school together. Genny doesn’t talk feelings, Walker.”
Not knowing what to do with that statement, I watch Callie and her expressions. She looks so much like Genny, just younger. Her lips aren’t quite as full, her nose is turned up just a bit more. Callie’s a little shorter, her hair longer and lighter. Genny’s not quite as toned, but it just makes her curves softer and more fun to touch.
These girls are gorgeous. It’s easy to see how Genny had her regulars. Who in their right mind turns down a girl as beautiful as her when she asks for sex only?
Me. I’m that fool. It’s turning out better than I ever imagined it could, though.
“You’re the one who told her she was shoving sex in my face, aren’t you?” The blush that highlights her cheeks and neck confirms my theory. “I don’t know if she’s told you, Callie, but Genny’s so proud of you.”
She bites her lip, confessing, “I know, but not because she told me. Because she told you.”
Walker
The week drags by without a word from Genny. I miss her random texts, her challenging comments, her sassy mouth. Wednesday morning, I text Callie to make sure Genny’s ok. She responds quickly, saying Genny’s migraine is much worse than normal.
Thursday, it’s pouring down rain outside, and Reese invited our parents over to our weekly meet. I love when my whole family can get together, especially since I still get to play with the boys. Even Steve is home this week, and I make a mental note to ask how to get things from my phone to the TV and back again if I get a minute alone with him.
I brush the rain from my shirt after letting myself in the backdoor, and I’m immediately grabbed by a little pair of hands around my leg. Pretending to try to shake him off like I did the rain, I smile down at Zeke’s laughter. Even with his easy grin, he’s looking through my legs out the door.
“Who ya looking for, Zeke?”
“Genny.”
Oh... It makes sense, she’s been coming here with me on Thursdays since that first one when she met him. She’s fallen in love with my nephews almost as quickly as they fell in love with her. I’ll bet Reese hates her even more now that his new routine is apparently to watch out the door for her every week. Picking him up, I gaze into his sad little eyes and resist the urge to pull out my phone and text her yet again. “Genny’s sick, so she’s at home in bed.”
“Genny’s sick?”
“Uh-huh. Hopefully she can come next week, though.” He gives me a thoughtful look as I set him back on his feet. After kissing my mom on the cheek, I reach around her to grab a glass. She side-eyes me in a very familiar way that says I’m in trouble, although I have no idea why. Maybe I can get out of it. I try to sneak away into the living room, but luck is not on my side tonight.
“Walker, I heard about your news from your sister. You know I don’t like to feel out of the loop, are you deliberately keeping me in the dark?”
Unsure what she’s talking about, I look at Reese, who’s pulling a casserole from the oven. She rolls her eyes at my confusion, mouthing, Genny!
“Mom, you know I’d never keep you in the dark about anything important. What did you supposedly hear?” Hopefully I can find out exactly what Reese told our mother about the beautiful, smart-mouthed vixen I’m dating.
“You don’t think news about you finally having a girlfriend is important?”
“We’re dating, Mom, nothing’s official yet.”
“The way Zeke talks about her, you need bring her to meet me. And if she’s as great as Reese says, you need to make it official.”
Arching my eyebrows at Reese, I smile in her direction. “Funny, Reese has only told me she hates Genny for stealing her first born every time she comes. I didn’t think she’d be giving her a thumbs up. Zeke’s trying to steal her from me, so I know he’s saying good things about her.”
“Your nephew has been staring out the door all night, hoping she was coming with you. I was hoping for that, too,” Mom says, pointing to
wards the door. “Wait, where’d Zeke go? He’s probably heartbroken she isn’t here.”
“He took off towards the living room when I told him Genny wasn’t coming.”
“Well go find him, it’s time to eat.”
Finally having permission to travel farther inside the house, I set out to look for Zeke, checking all his favorite spots before finding him in his room upstairs. He’s huddled over his small desk working on something so hard he doesn’t even bother to look up when I come in.
“You ready to eat, Zeke? Gram says it’s time.”
“In a minute,” he mumbles, eyes totally focused on whatever masterpiece he has on his desk.
“Whatever you’re working on, we can finish it after dinner, Bud. You don’t wanna make Gramma mad, do you?”
Zeke lets out a frustrated sigh, scowling up at me. “I’m making a picture for Genny. It’ll make her smile and then she’ll feel all better.”
Chuckling at how eager he is to see her, I squat down next to him and look at what he’s working on. “I think your picture will make her feel better. You don’t wanna rush it, though. Let’s go eat and then we can come back and take our time on it, so it’ll be perfect, how’s that sound?”
His eyes are so kind and thoughtful when he looks up at me, it makes my heart hurt. Zeke is all his mother, none of that asshole roommate of mine. Reese is doing an amazing job with him.
“Will you give it to Genny when it’s done?”
“Yeah, of course. She’s gonna love it.”
His eyes narrow as he stares at me, obviously not happy about something. “No kissing when you give it to her. Not in front of my picture.”
That’s not happening, but he doesn’t need to know that. Ruffling his hair, I tell him “Whatever you say, you’re the boss.” After getting what he thinks is my consent, he finally relents and walks down the stairs with a frown.
I don’t think he believes me about the no kissing rule…