Deciding Tomorrow

by Ericson, Renee

  “Anything else?” the server asks.

  “And another round of beers,” Kenzie adds, handing a stick to me.

  “You got it.” The waitress gets the specific names of our beers and then walks toward the bar.

  “Touché, Cromwell,” Mara says approvingly, giving Brent a friendly shove to his arm. “Slippery nipples. Nice.”

  “It was a hunch.” He shrugs.

  “It was a good one.” She grabs a pool stick. “Looks like you’re on my team. Let’s go kick these girls’ butts.”

  Brent and Mara go to one side of the table, where they begin chatting away like old friends. She’s laughing like a child at whatever he’s saying to her. Kenzie starts the game by breaking the balls and landing us as stripes for the round. She takes a few shots, pocketing two more, but she misses her third. She joins me by the table, waiting for our next turn.

  “Brent seems nice,” Kenzie says, grabbing a pretzel from the bowl on the round wood table. “I was expecting some total asshole from the way Mara was talking about him.”

  “She was just pissed at him.”

  “Yeah, I kind of gathered that. She said whatever happened was a total mess.”

  “It was, but we all make mistakes.” My eyes find Brent’s on the other side of the room. “Things sometimes just happen out of your control, and it’s always worse when it happens to someone you care about.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “You’re up, Rubes,” Mara announces when the balls stop rolling.

  “Thanks.”

  I circle the table, find my target, and take the shot, sinking a ball into a corner pocket. As I move to the end of the table, Brent taps my ass in passing while still in conversation with Mara. I don’t eavesdrop too long, and I barely miss my next shot.

  “Brent,” I call, backing up toward Kenzie, “you’re up.”

  Brent grabs the pool stick and approaches the table, assessing the layout.

  “They seem friendly,” Kenzie states, lifting her chin toward Mara and Brent. “I thought Mara might ride him all night. You know how she is.”

  “I do. Trust me, I do.”

  “Wonder why she isn’t.”

  “Who knows?” I shrug. “They used to be really good friends, too. Did she tell you that?”

  “No, she didn’t mention that at all.”

  “You would think they were brother and sister as much shit as they gave each other.” I pause, thinking back at the memories of them. “She was always my friend first, but she really liked Brent. They used to harass one another all the time.”

  “I can see that.” Kenzie grabs a few more pretzels and crunches one in her mouth. “He really does hand her ass to her, doesn’t he?”

  “Yeah, they were always like that.” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “But they were good friends, too. Mara would study with Brent a lot. They had a few classes together.”

  “She said they were in English together.”

  “I think they had four or five classes together, and she and I were roommates, so we all hung out a lot.”

  “Huh. She didn’t say anything about all that.”

  “Eh, you know Mara.”

  “That I do.”

  “You’re up, Kenzie,” Mara states before turning on her heel and joining Brent once again.

  They share a high five, and she makes a funny face in response to whatever Brent said to her. He then turns around, and Mara pokes his ass cheek with her finger.

  “Looks like they are back to being friends,” Kenzie points out, motioning her stick in their direction.

  “It does, doesn’t it? I guess she missed him, too.”

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  It’s near one in the morning when we all decide to call it an evening. We wrap up our final game, and Mara rubs it in that she won the last round. Then, we all exit into the cold evening with a light flurry trickling down from above.

  “Thanks for inviting us,” Brent says to Mara and Kenzie at the edge of the sidewalk. “It was fun.”

  “It was,” Kenzie remarks, slipping on her gloves. “We should do it again sometime.”

  “Sounds good to me,” I reply. Approaching Mara, I open my arms and give her a customary farewell hug. “It was really good to see you. I’ve missed you. We shouldn’t go so long without getting together.”

  “I agree, but I can tell you’ve been a little busy with other things.” She lowers her voice. “I hate to say this, but I’m kind of glad Brent’s back in the picture.”

  “Me, too.”

  “It’s a good thing.”

  “Thanks, Mar.”

  She squeezes me, and then we disengage our embrace. Brent swoops in and picks up Mara in a giant bear hug, lifting her completely off the ground.

  “Cromwell!” Mara shrieks. “Put my ass down.”

  “Good to see you,” he enunciates and then sets her on the pavement. “Don’t be a stranger.” Turning, Brent waves in Kenzie’s direction. “It was nice to meet you, Kenzie.”

  “You, too, Brent,” Kenzie replies, stepping onto the street and raising her arm. “Do you guys want to share a cab?”

  “Nah,” I say, looping my arm around Brent’s. “It’s not too far to my place, so we’re gonna walk.”

  “Okay,” Kenzie says. “You two have a good night.”

  “Night,” Mara adds in unison with Brent and me.

  Brent and I turn left down the road just as a cab pulls up to the girls. Side by side, Brent and I travel along the busy street filled with meandering pedestrians who are still enjoying the late-night fun. Three blocks down, we turn into a residential part of the neighborhood where the streets are quieter and darker. The air is chilly, so we concentrate on our pace to hurry home, walking quickly for the final two blocks to my building.

  Opening the door, the warmth of the alcove immediately takes away some of the chill. We scurry up the steps and into my apartment.

  “It’s cold out there,” I comment, dead-bolting the door and removing my shoes. “Brrr.”

  Brent rubs his hands up and down my arms. “It sure is. Maybe we should have taken a cab.”

  “I’ll remember that for next time.” I unfasten the front closures of my jacket. “Did you have fun tonight?”

  “Yeah, it was good to see Mara again, and Kenzie seems really nice.”

  “She is.” I enter the dressing area to hang my coat, and Brent does the same. “You and Mara seemed to fall back into place pretty quickly.”

  Brent shrugs out of his sweater and unbuckles his belt. “We always did get along.”

  “Well, I’m glad you two still do.”

  “Me, too.”

  He slides his belt out of the pant loops and wraps it around my waist, pulling my body flush with his. My palms press against his T-shirt–clad pectoral muscles.

  “You know what I was thinking tonight?” he asks.

  “I hope it wasn’t about Mara’s boobs.”

  He chuckles a little. “They are bigger, aren’t they?”

  “You noticed?”

  “I couldn’t miss them.” The belt around my back tightens, securing me closer to him. “But that’s not what I was thinking about.”

  “Then, what was on your mind?” My fingers massage his chest.

  “You. Me. Everything.” The belt drops to the floor, and Brent’s hands cradle the back of my neck at the hairline. “That nights like tonight are what my life should have been like, what our life should have been like.”

  “It probably would have been.” I blink a few times and slide my hands up his chest before circling them behind his neck. “Maybe it still can be?”

  “I think it can.” His fingers walk up my spine. “I hope it can.”

  Brent searches my face for a second and then softly presses his lips to my own, caressing and sprinkling my mouth with hope for more. It’s a physical statement to reassure what we are right now and what we’ll become beyond our past, making something more than we ever were before.

  The c
ountdown to his departure weighs heavily on my mind. We still have over a week together, but the end is getting close and fast. I’m not ready for him to go.

  “Let’s go to bed,” I suggest, wanting to hold him and to cherish the rest of our time together.

  “Good idea.”

  We finish undressing and crawl into bed. I tuck myself into Brent’s shoulder just as I’ve done every night for the past several weeks. It’s second nature. A small sliver of light dances along Brent’s chest where my hand rests at his heart.

  “You never told me,” I softly say into the silence, my forefinger tracing the inked words on his chest, “about this.” I touch his shoulder where the two gears appear in motion. “Or these.”

  Brent rolls to his side and faces me, creating some space between us, and the new position more clearly reveals the tattoos in question.

  “They’re you,” he says, enclosing my hand with his own at his breastbone. “They’re all you.”

  “They are?”

  “Yes.” He guides my hand to his shoulder, landing it on the top tattoo of a gear with an etched Latin phrase inside. “This one, the first one I ever got, was meant to represent everything we were and everything I left behind.” His eyes meet mine. “Everything I lost.”

  My grip tightens around his skin, trying to conceal the hurt from which this body art was born. “What does it mean again?”

  “Perfer et obdura. Dolor hic tibi proderit olim.”

  My ears linger on the beautiful sound rolling off his tongue.

  “Be patient and tough. Someday, this pain will be useful to you.”

  My heart sinks. “Has it been useful?”

  “I think it has. Some lessons can only be learned through the process of agony, and the deepest pains, the ones that cut and leave a scar, come from unforgettable love.”

  He leads my palm back to his chest where the words Luctor et Emergo, Latin for I struggle and emerge, scroll across his pectoral.

  “This one,” he continues, “I got to remind me that life carries on once you accept your truth and your circumstances. That we all do. We’re both survivors. I just needed to learn to become one, too.”

  “I’m so sorry, Brent.” With a featherlight touch, the pads of my fingers drift along the words, taking in their importance.

  “Don’t be. I’m not.” He halts my moving hand. “I needed to wake up. Experiences, good and bad, shape a person. I hope I’m better because of mine.”

  “You were always better.”

  “You give me too much credit.” He plants his warm mouth on my forehead. “But thank you.”

  “What about the last one?”

  Brent cups my face in his hand. “Faber est quisque fortunae suae.”

  I could listen to him speak like this all night long.

  “Every man is the architect of his own fortune.” With a gentle touch, he runs his thumb across my lips. “I had it done when I returned to the States. I used to think it was about me—my choices and my goals. Now, I know it was about you.” His fingers trace the features along my face. “I came back because I wasn’t happy. I came back because what I needed wasn’t in Sweden. Even though it might have helped to pave a path for part of my life, it wasn’t fulfilling my life. It was time to make a change, so I moved home to the States…and I found you.”

  Our eyes connect, and he takes my heart.

  “It has always been you. Every breath, every thought, every decision, every mistake, every sketch on my skin, and everything that I am—it all comes back to you.”

  “God, I love you.” I sniff. “What am I supposed to say to that?”

  “You don’t have to say anything.” His hand smooths over my shoulder and down the length of my arm. “Just know that I’ve always been yours.”

  Edging my form closer to his, I kiss his lips with so much fervor that Brent stills at the moment of contact. Overcome by his words and proclamation, I ease his body back against the bed and straddle his waist, our lips still locked.

  Sitting up, I slip the T-shirt over my head, exposing my flesh to the cool air, and then I lean down and trace my lips along the words on Brent’s chest. He caresses my head as I make my way over his defined abs to the waistband of his boxers. My fingers tug the elastic fabric, releasing his erection, and slide them down along the length of his legs. I slip off my panties and crawl back over Brent, breathing and kissing the man who belongs to me.

  “I want you,” I admit with a decision flirting at the edges of my mind. “I want to feel all of you.”

  “You can have all of me.”

  Reaching between us, my fingers encircle his length, and I guide it toward my opening.

  “Ruby,” he hisses, “what are you doing?”

  “What do you think?”

  “We can’t.”

  He groans as I continue to flirt the tip of his cock with my folds.

  “Let me get—”

  “I want to.” I release his hard-on and hold his face in my hands. “You’re clean, and so am I.”

  Our focus darts all over each other.

  “I’m on birth control,” I add.

  “But what about…you were before, too. I can’t go through that again. I can’t lose you like that.”

  “You won’t. You have me in every way, and I’m not losing you again either.”

  Conflict flickers across his face. “Are you sure? This is what you want?”

  “I want everything that has to do with you.” My voice shakes a little from the gravity of my words.

  “Are you scared?”

  “Only that you’ll tell me no.”

  He pulls my lips to his. “I love you. Remember that.”

  “I’ve never forgotten.”

  Our mouths move together in a languid rhythm as we savor each other’s inhales and exhales. Brent lowers his hand and hesitantly eases himself into me. He breathes heavily as I completely sink myself over him.

  I still.

  This is the reality of us, together, joining in a way that we haven’t been in years. We’re challenging and confronting the union of our past, the act that brought us close and ultimately had a hand in tearing us apart.

  Accidents happen, and if it were to happen again, our decisions would be different this time around.

  We would face our fear together.

  “You’re so warm,” Brent utters, steadying his exhales. “And so beautiful.” He licks his lips. “You feel so completely amazing.”

  “So do you,” I say, carefully rising and lowering over him.

  Brent grabs my ass with one hand and kneads my breast with the other as I prop myself up with my palms on each side of his head. Rolling my hips over his length, I observe Brent’s face, connecting us completely in this moment. We’re two open souls with absolutely no barriers—physical or in our hearts.

  I arch my back, toss my hair to the side, and slowly lower to take his lips with mine. I press my breasts to Brent’s chest and hold him close. His arms circle around my waist, and he palms my spine in a full embrace.

  “I feel all of you,” he whispers into my ear and then kisses my neck. “It’s like you’re all over me.”

  “And you’re completely in me.”

  Love pours from Brent onto me, into me, and through me, capturing my very essence.

  We continue to hold each other while connected and joined. Every movement is a reminder of what we shared, what we were, and what we are. In the present, we are a stronger unit, ready to face any obstacle set forth.

  He’s mine. I’m his. There’s no in between.

  He kisses my neck and fondles my breast while our hips move together in a rhythm all their own—deeper, harder, faster. It is familiar and meant to be.

  “I love you,” I moan.

  “Forever,” he grunts. “I’ll never stop.”

  “Me either.”

  The heat quickly builds, and the blood in my veins pumps with persistence, sending a euphoric high throughout my entire being.

 
Brent holds me tight as I shatter into pieces. He catches every one.

  Pulling me over his length one final time, he thrusts hard, filling me with all that he is.

  I want it all…with him.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Comfort, security, contentment and that familiar feeling of home echo through my entire being as we settle into bed. There’s an overwhelming richness in my life and heart.

  Tucked into Brent’s side with his arm draped over my waist, his harmonic breathing lulls me to sleep. My lids close, and I relax into a state of completeness, falling into an instant slumber, without a worry in my mind.

  ~~~*~~~

  Squinting, I peer out into the bright horizon. The sun sparkles like diamonds on the clear blue water, piercing my vision.

  Is this heaven?

  “Come on,” Brent’s voice calls from ahead. “Jump. It’ll be fine. I’ll catch you.”

  Bringing my hand to my brow, I shade my face for a clearer view.

  “Are you coming?” he asks. “I got you.”

  Instantaneously, the whiteness dissipates, revealing richer hues. The surroundings become sharper and more defined. Before me lies the sea. Shades of green and blue deepen their color into the distance. A warm breeze scuttles from the left, swaying the green leaves of the palm trees scattered throughout the landscape. The sky is a perfect pale blue. At the edge of the ocean, the creamy sand beach spreads behind me. The wooden clapboards of the dock are hot under my feet, but it’s not enough to burn.

  “Are you coming?” Brent asks again. He’s only a few feet away, resting waist deep in the crystal water.

  The sea is so calm that I can see his feet against the bottom of the glass-like ocean.

  “I promise to catch you. No need to be scared.”

  He’s telling the truth. I feel it in my bones. Every word from his mouth is said in earnest, and there’s no way he would allow any harm to come to me. Strong, prepared, and ready, he’s able to carry any burden thrown his way. Brent taps the surface of the water, creating tiny ripples, and a beautiful smile ignites along his features, warming my heart and bringing peace to my soul.

  But his gaze is not intended for me, nor is his beaming expression.