by Julia Wolf
As I stood under the warm spray of the shower, I thought of Joe when I ran my hands over my wet belly. I pretended my small hands were his large hands as I rubbed my breasts and pebbled nipples. I knew only a few small touches would get me off at this point. I leaned against the tile wall, my mouth biting down on my forearm as my other hand reached between my legs.
I knew I shouldn’t be doing this with Joe so near, but I was so far gone, I had no choice but to find release. Two fingers slipped inside my slick opening as I ground the heel of my palm against my clit. I moaned into my arm, imagining the shirtless picture of Joe that had become the main feature of my spank bank. I rode my fingers, remembering Joe’s thumbs brushing against my skin and thought of what Joe’s full lips would feel like around my nipples. I came, sudden and hard, clenching around my fingers, and let out a guttural groan not fully muffled by my arm.
As I panted, I heard Joe say through the door, “Are you okay?” Oh. My. God. He had heard me coming.
“Um, I’m fine, I just stubbed my toe. Ouch! Be out in a minute.” I thought I might die of embarrassment. Maybe I could stay in the shower for the rest of my life. Joe would eventually leave if I never came out, right?
Since staying in the shower forever wasn’t really an option, I got out and toweled off. I quickly dressed in my favorite faded blue jeans with holes in both knees and a royal blue tank top with dainty bows tying together cutouts in the back.
“Sorry if I took too long,” I said when I came out of the bathroom, toweling my hair dry.
“You didn’t. Your cheeks are pink. Must have been hot in there.” He smiled at me.
Did he...was he… If, oh god, did he know I had been masturbating in the shower?
“I can do that for you,” he said. I stopped what I was doing and looked at him with wide eyes when I realized he was gesturing to the brush in my hand.
“You want to brush my hair?” I asked.
“Yeah. Come sit down.” He tapped the floor in front of him with his heel. “I’ll even braid it for you if you want.” I sat down on the floor, right between his legs.
Joe started brushing my hair and my insides melted.
“This is my favorite thing, you know.” I leaned my head against the inside of his knee.
“You like having your hair brushed, huh?” he asked, making smooth, long strokes.
“I love it. I would agree to almost anything when someone is brushing my hair.” I nuzzled my face against his knee, feeling utterly relaxed.
“You keep doing that and I would agree to almost anything too,” he said gruffly.
I realized I probably shouldn’t be rubbing my face against my friend’s leg, so I made myself stop. I probably also shouldn’t masturbate while picturing my friend, but that was a thought for another day.
He started gathering my hair in his hands. “Do you want me to do a French braid, Rachel?”
“Sure. How do you know how to do a French braid?” I asked. “I barely know, and hair is kinda my thing.”
“I’ll have to show you a picture of my hair from age twenty-one through twenty-five. It was seriously long, past my shoulders. Maya taught me how to braid it. She was fooling around with it one day, so I asked her, and she showed me. Sometimes I wore it like that when I performed, which looked as ridiculous as it sounds.”
I snorted. “I’m dying. Please tell me there’s visual evidence of this.”
“When I go to my parents’ house in two weeks, I’ll see if I can dig up a picture from a show. I’m pretty sure they have some.”
“I can’t wait. I can’t believe you’re moving so soon!”
“Really? I feel like the last couple months have crawled by.”
I stayed quiet and still as I relished the feeling of Joe gently tugging my hair as he worked on the braid. There were not many things I enjoyed more than having my hair played with, but with Joe doing the playing, my enjoyment was amped up a few notches.
He patted my bare shoulders. “Okay, you’re done. I think this is my best work yet.”
I looked over my shoulder. “Let me be the judge of that, buster.” I walked into the bathroom to check out my do in the mirror.
I was surprised to see he had actually done a more than decent job. My thick hair was neatly pulled back into an orderly French braid draped over one shoulder.
He waited on the loveseat, both arms slung over the back, looking pretty pleased with himself.
“Nice, right?” He smirked.
I sat down next to him on the available half cushion. “I’m really impressed. I think I might hire you to do my hair every day.”
He leaned forward and tugged on the end of my braid. “No payment necessary, I’ll do it for free whenever you ask me to.” We smiled at each other, then, feeling bold, I leaned over and pressed a brief kiss on his stubbly cheek.
“Thanks, buster. I wish I could have you around whenever I wanted.”
“Soon, sweet girl, soon.” He brushed his fingers over my arm. “Let’s get out of here and go find dinner.”
Sixteen
Instead of taking the long subway ride to Brooklyn for “the best Sicilian pizza this side of the Atlantic” like Joe had planned, we decided to grab something to eat at the cute fifties-style diner near my hotel. Given the way he made me feel at the hair show and then when he brushed my hair, I would have gone anywhere with him.
After the waitress took our orders for way too much greasy diner food, I sipped my Cherry Coke and watched Joe across the table. Being in this diner with him gave me a strong sense of déjà vu.
“Are you ready for your big move, Joe?”
He nodded. “You have no idea. I’m ready to have a real bed and some privacy again. And I hear the neighbors are friendly.”
I held my finger up. “I’m warning you now, I’m guilty of pop-ins, so no walking around in the buff. You’ll never know when I’m going to show up at your door.”
Joe threw his head back and laughed. “We’re both in luck then. I love pop-ins. I can’t guarantee no nudity, though.”
I giggled. “I’m sure I would survive if I saw your tushy.”
Joe snorted. “Did you just say tushy? Are you my bubbe?”
“You don’t like tushy? Okay, how about buns? Booty? Arse? Biscuits? Junk in the trunk? Badonkadonk?”
“Now you’re an ass thesaurus? You never cease to amaze me, Rachel.” Joe chuckled, shaking his head at me.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I prefer thesaurASS, thank you very much.” I looked over my shoulder. “Speaking of ass words, I need a milkshake so I can bring all the boys to the yard.”
The waitress chose that moment to deliver our burgers and cheesy fries, and she took my order for a chocolate shake.
Joe would be my neighbor in a couple weeks. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him what that meant for us, but I took a big bite of my burger and swallowed that loaded question down.
“My mom is ridiculously excited for me to be local again. I don’t know why, she has my brother and his kids to obsess over. But she keeps saying she’ll have all her babies in one place. It’s kind of hilarious.”
I grinned. “I didn’t know Jake had kids. How many?”
Joe took out his phone and scrolled until he found what he was looking for. He turned it to me and on the screen was a picture of two gorgeous girls, who were a lot older than I’d been expecting.
“That’s Danielle. She’s twelve.” He shook his head as he looked at the picture. “I can’t believe it’s almost time for her Bat Mitzvah. And that’s Mirah. She’s nine. They’re both pretty cool kids, and I’ve missed too many uncle duties being so far away. Luckily for them, they seem to have gotten my music gene. Danielle is a rad cello player and Mirah plays piano. We are going to have some amazing jam sessions when I move.”
Hearing Joe talk about his nieces with such affection did things to my insides. Not the same things holding his hand had done. No, this was deep inside, in the heart region. And I couldn’t he
lp the longing I felt. I wanted to dance with him at Danielle’s Bat Mitzvah. I wanted to hang out and watch them jam. But mostly, more than anything, more than I ever wanted the stone house or a big successful career, I wanted to be with Joe.
I sipped my milkshake, then asked, “How is Jake?”
He nodded. “He’s really good. He pretty much fully recovered. He’ll have a rod and some pins in his leg for the rest of his life, but the other option was losing it entirely, so the metal seems like no biggie.”
I slumped back in my seat. “I’m so happy he fully recovered. I remember his accident being really scary.”
“Fucking awful. My family lived in a perpetual state of worry that summer.” He reached across the table and touched the tips of his fingers to mine. “Having you to talk to back then eased some of it, though.”
So that summer had meant something to him. Maybe not the same as it meant to me, but knowing I’d helped in some small way felt good.
After stuffing our faces, we walked slowly back to my hotel, hand in hand. Since I didn’t want to end the night yet, I invited Joe to my room to watch a movie.
I changed into a baggy T-shirt and boxers, then flopped down on the king-size bed. Joe stretched out on the other side, a wide expanse of bedspread between us.
With the remote in hand, Joe scrolled through the guide. “Bad news. I don’t see any Christian Slater movies.”
I stuck my bottom lip out to pout. “If I can’t have my Christian Slater fix, what about a scary movie? Nothing with dolls or creepy kids, though.”
He scanned the guide again. “A-ha, I’ve got it. How about Scream?”
I rubbed my hands together. “Ooooh, good choice. A nineties classic.”
I fluffed the pillows behind my head and settled in to watch the movie. My stomach was so full, I lifted my shirt to rub it, letting out a soft moan.
“What’s going on over there?” Joe gazed at my bare abdomen.
“Don’t mind me, just rubbing my food baby.” Joe let out a small laugh, then turned back to the movie. My eyes raked up and down his long body, thoroughly enjoying the way he filled up his side of the bed. If I hadn’t been so full, I might have had a problem controlling myself. Even so, I scooted a little closer to him, so I lay right in the middle of the bed.
Joe noticed me inching toward him. “Getting scared? Come on over.” He held out his arm and I practically dove into him, resting my head on his chest, the rest of my body stretched out next to his. He smelled so good, like one of those long summer nights you never want to end.
I shivered. “Even though I know what happens next, I can’t help getting nervous,” I admitted, looking at the TV.
He squeezed my shoulder. “You don’t need to be nervous. I know what happens too. I’ll protect you from all the bad parts.”
I gripped his T-shirt. “You can’t shield me from all the bad parts. Sometimes they sneak up on you.”
He rubbed his nose over the top of my hair. “You’re right, but I’ll be here with you when they do.”
I didn’t know if we were still talking about the movie, but it didn’t matter at that moment. I was warm and cozy next to him, and the last thing I felt before I fell asleep was Joe’s hand stroking my braided hair.
Seventeen
Starfished in the middle of the bed, I cracked open an eye, confused for a second about where I was. Ah, hotel room, New York, Joe. Where was Joe? I patted the bed around me until my hand came in contact with a solid warm back. Poor Joe had been relegated to the edge of the bed since I had slept right in the middle. Poor Joe had also taken off his shirt at some point and my hand rested on his smooth, broad back.
I turned over on my side to face him, keeping my hand in place. He was still asleep, so I watched as he breathed deeply in and out. My eyes raked over the olive skin of his back, admiring his strong shoulders and the way his long torso narrowed into a slim waist. I allowed myself another moment to drink him in before I quietly got out of bed to take a shower.
Leaving my hair braided, I brushed my teeth and showered, feeling much more awake by the time I got out. I dressed in worn jean shorts and a flowy, purple V-neck T-shirt, wanting to be comfortable on my train ride back home.
Once I unbraided my hair, it tumbled down my back in loose waves. I twisted and pinned the front away from my face, and then I felt ready to face the day...and Joe.
When I left the bathroom, I realized I hadn’t checked my phone the night before for a text from Frannie. Digging it out of my purse, I breathed a sigh of relief when I read the text she sent last night, telling me she’d made it back to her hotel room. I flopped on the loveseat, then sent her a text asking if she was up and wanted to grab breakfast before we headed to the train station.
Her: Hey, lady. I just got up, want to meet in the lobby in a half hour? I need a bagel!
Me: Sounds good. See you soon. XOXO.
“You are a bed hog.”
I started and dropped my phone right on my face. “Oomph! Why are you always making me drop my phone?” I rubbed my forehead, hoping a goose egg wasn’t forming.
“Oh shit, sorry! Are you okay?” Joe sat up in bed, a look of concern on his face.
Sadly, he had put his shirt back on, so I didn’t get the chance to ogle his chest and abs.
“I’m fine. And I should be the one who’s sorry. I’m so used to sleeping alone, I now take my half of the bed right down the middle.” He laughed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
“Even only having a sliver of bed, last night was the most peaceful sleep I’ve had in a long time.”
“Me too, Joe. Last night was...nice.” We smiled at each other and I could feel my cheeks burning. Waking up with him, talking to him in the morning about how we slept, these were things I wanted to do more of—every day for as long as he’d keep me around, to be more specific. I didn’t really know how we’d get from the friendship we were rebuilding to anything beyond that, but I was still planning on letting him take the lead and see where he took us.
“Your hair...it’s all wild and curly. I’ve never seen it like that.”
I yanked on a strand. “This is courtesy of you, buster. When I took my hair out of the braid you gave me, this is what it looked like.” I felt a bit self-conscious at the way he looked at me from across the room.
“You look like a lion.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Is that a good thing?”
“On you, it’s a really good thing.” We stared at each other for a long, intense moment before I broke eye contact, picking at a spot on the couch with my fingernail.
“Frannie and I have to catch our train soon. We’re going to get breakfast before we go, though. Want to come?”
He stood. “I didn’t realize you were leaving early today. If you’ll have me in yesterday’s clothes, I absolutely want to have breakfast with you.”
“Don’t be silly. Of course I’ll have you in yesterday’s clothes. Hell, I’d have you in no clothes.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, my hands flew up and covered my face.
“Oh my god, I didn’t mean that.” I peeked through my fingers to see Joe walking toward the bathroom. He paused and looked at me.
“That’s too bad,” he said quietly, then walked into the bathroom and closed the door. I squealed into my hands, then did a little seated Macarena.
When Joe and I went down to the lobby to meet Frannie, she was already there, standing near the front doors. I thought she was alone, but as we approached, I realized she very much wasn’t. I put out a hand to stop Joe when I saw what she was doing.
In broad daylight, Frannie and Marco were engaging in what could only be described as a tongue war. They finally separated, and Marco smacked her ass, then sauntered out the door, a definite spring in his step.
I approached my friend, and said, “Francisca Madonna Rivera! Did you just allow your gentleman caller to grope you in the middle of a hotel lobby?”
“Why yes, I think I did!” She laughed, not looking the
least bit embarrassed. “Look who it is! Joe Silver! Aren’t you here bright and early.”
“Nice to see you, Frannie. I heard you’re requiring a bagel this morning.”
“I will follow you anywhere for caffeine and carbs,” Frannie groaned.
Joe led us outside and down a few blocks to a bagel shop. I ordered an iced coffee and an everything bagel topped with veggie cream cheese. Frannie waved me over from the table she had snagged for us in the busy shop.
As I sat down next to her, she asked, “Call me crazy, but isn’t he wearing the same clothes he had on yesterday?” She nodded toward Joe, who stood by the counter, still waiting on his order.
“You’re not crazy. But nothing happened. We fell asleep together watching a movie.”
Frannie looked at me as though she didn’t quite believe me, but she didn’t push.
“Are you still on a high from the hair show?” she asked.
I nodded. “Oh yeah. I’ve never experienced anything like that. We’re going to do it again, aren’t we?”
She laughed. “I think we have to.”
Joe sat down with his food.
Frannie asked, “So, Joe, are you all ready to move into Rachel’s house?”
A surprised laugh burst out of him. “Rachel’s house, huh?”
She nodded, her face solemn. “She claimed it years ago. Right, Rach?”
My mouth full of bagel, I gave her a thumbs up.
Joe picked up his bagel. “Well okay then. I think I’m ready. I’m going to be begging Rachel for help on all things decorating and painting.”
“You won’t be able to keep me away,” I warned.
The idea of helping Joe fix up the stone house made me feel so many different emotions, it was hard to focus on one. Excitement, jealousy, elation, disappointment, hopefulness, fear...I could go on forever.