The Way Home

by Simpson, Stefanie

  He tentatively raised his face. She moved and sat on his lap, and he held tight to her.

  “I’ve never done anything quite like that.”

  “Did you like it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well then,” she beamed, and he nuzzled her neck. “So, what are your plans today?”

  “None.”

  “Good, because, I have plans for us if you want to that is?”

  “I’d love to.”

  Em drove him home to grab some clothes and fresh socks for his prosthetics, his blades, and pick up his car. They went for a run, only a short one, but she insisted she demonstrate her skills to him. That was how he was standing in her spare room on her mat, squaring off to her. He’d noticed the mirrors for her to dance in front of, but the practice dummy had ‘Ryan’ written in marker pen across his forehead. He quirked a brow at her, and she pulled her lips into her mouth so she wouldn’t laugh.

  “Ready?” he didn’t sound sure as he asked.

  “Ready. Come at me.”

  They danced about for a few moments, her feet were fast, and her stance defensive. “We’re just going to fight?”

  “I won’t hurt you too much.”

  He went to grab her, she deflected, and spun, and got in a hit.

  “Okay, okay, I got it. I’ll try not to hold back.”

  She grinned at his words.

  They tested each other out, seeing how far they were going, and she took him down twice.

  “You’re not even trying.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t. I won’t let you.”

  She pushed him, riled him, and finally, he started to try to punch out at her. He didn’t land once. She pulled his arm back behind him and climbed on his back. Her arms went around his neck. He fought against her as she squeezed until he flipped her off and down to the mat.

  She lay panting with an open-mouthed smile. He lay over her, looking down. He licked at her open mouth, and she kissed him back. He pulled away.

  “This mat smells like ass.”

  “All mats smell like ass. Again?”

  “Again.”

  They fought hard against each other, and he landed a few blows, neither hesitated, they wrestled through it, she gave him as much as he gave her. They were both breathless and sweating when they stood facing each other, worn out.

  “I enjoyed this.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t think I’d like fighting you, but you are good, and I submit, you’re right.”

  “Submit? Sounds like fun.”

  He choked a laugh. “Um, I need to shower.” He scowled as he caught his breath.

  “I have a plan, come with me.”

  “Okay.”

  She went into the little utility off the kitchen and handed him a sturdy, folded up plastic stool. “I thought you could use this, for the shower. It would be easier right, I mean, you have one like it at yours.”

  He nodded. “Thank you.”

  She beamed. “Sure, anything you want, hot stuff.” She put her arms around his neck, tiptoed up, and kissed the spot on his neck that he liked, licking at the sweat, and he swore.

  That afternoon refreshed and relaxed as they sat on the couch, Em turned to Ryan.

  “Close your eyes. I have a belated birthday present for you.” They had watched a film, and she was about to start dinner.

  “You’re not serious?”

  “Deadly.”

  He did, and she put the poorly wrapped and suspiciously familiar shape in front of him that she had hidden. “Okay.”

  He scowled and gingerly opened it. “It’s a guitar.”

  “Do you like it?” she had an open, eager face.

  “Why did you buy me a guitar?” he was confused, even annoyed, but he opened the case and pulled out the blond glossy instrument.

  “Because it was your birthday, you said you play but don’t have one, and I was trying to be nice. You don’t like it?”

  “Em, it’s too much.”

  “Accept the gift. Say thank you, dearest Em, I love you, and your sweet generosity is lovely. Then we’ll kiss, and then eat.”

  He turned the thing over.

  “I’ve never had a gift like this before. Thank you.”

  She beamed. “You’re welcome my love, after all, what’s a girl to do if she can’t give her man a present on his birthday?”

  “Okay, but it’s not a small gift, it’s a really good guitar.”

  “No point buying a crap one when you’ve money in the bank.” Her eyes narrowed. “You know I’m loaded, right?”

  “Loaded?”

  “I’m worth a fair bit, not mega, but, if I decided never to make any money ever again, I’d be fine.”

  “The books?”

  “Not really, on their own, I would have done okay, but selling the rights helped, which meant the books sold a whole lot better, strangely I made a fair amount dancing. Most people don’t, but the review is pretty big. We’d be paid to show up and pose at events and stuff. Angie told me to invest some of it. So I did. Dad had a good life insurance, sold his business for a fair price, and I have no debt. I paid cash for the house, so I don’t even have a mortgage. I’m set. Anyway, play for me, I want to eat, and that steak won’t cook itself, is medium rare all right?”

  “Yeah sure.” He frowned as he took in what she said.

  “Play.” She left the couch, and he strummed, it was a bit out of tune, there was a tuner, some plectrums, and extra strings in the case. He spent a few moments tuning and played a song Em didn’t know. He hummed along to it.

  She put out the salad, and little side dishes she prepared, while she waited for the skillet to heat. She lightly seasoned the oiled steaks, and they hit the pan with a sharp hiss as she put them in. She set the timer and finished laying the table.

  She smiled the whole time, glancing to Ryan as he played, he wasn’t a hidden genius, but a decent player, but mostly, he looked happy.

  The timer chirped at her, and she turned the steaks, and reset it.

  “Nearly ready.”

  He put the guitar down and seeing his relaxed face, and the lock of hair that bothered him as it fell forward, everything she felt and wanted from him hit her all at once. She wanted him forever, not just seeing what happened and waiting until they fizzled out, she wanted everything from him, marriage, a home, adopted kids, everything. It made her hands shake. She swallowed. She served the steaks and set them down.

  “Help yourself.”

  She loaded up on the rosemary potatoes.

  “Do you want some steak with your potatoes?”

  She laughed. “I love carbs, and besides I’ve been losing weight since dancing again.”

  “I’d noticed you lost some.”

  Ryan put a bite of steak in his mouth. “Holy fuck Em. This is so good.”

  “Well, it is fillet.” She grinned.

  He made little noises of pleasure as he chewed, and she tried not to squirm.

  When he finally pushed his plate away, he rubbed his stomach. She cleared the table.

  “I’ll clean up.”

  “No, birthday boy, you won’t. Relax.”

  “Please let me help.”

  “No.” She tidied up while he sipped his beer.

  She lay her head on his chest, and he put his arm around her when they settled on the settee again. Comfortable ease. She breathed deep, taking in his solid warmth and the smell of him, a mixture of laundry detergent, soap, deodorant, and him.

  She ran her hand over his chest, his shoulders, his neck, she arched her face up to him, and kissed his neck, she inched upwards. He moaned and ran a hand over her back. They kissed for so long, and with such ease, she nearly fell asleep, she was so relaxed.

  She worked down his chest and pushed his t-shirt up and kissed his abs. His mouth went lax as she slipped off the settee and undid his jeans.

  “Em, you don’t have t
o.”

  She laughed. “Do you have any idea how much I love your cock.” He heaved a breath, as she closed her warm hand around him. “Even your balls are nice. And, just to be clear, they aren’t generally.” He smirked. “I mean look at it.” Her tongue went up his length. He raised his hips as she took him in.

  Her head bobbed up and down, and he remembered the morning when he had taken such possession of her. She had loved it. He wanted to be reckless with her, to lose his mind in it, to fall down that rabbit hole with her.

  He gripped her hair and gently thrust up to her. She moaned around his cock, as he went deeper, and he cried out. The first night they were together, she had devoured him, she surprised him, her confidence and desire, and it was fantastic. Right then, he didn’t want to come in her mouth but savour coming inside her, without a condom.

  “Em, come to me.” His rough voice made her stop. He pulled her upright, he pulled down her yoga bottoms, helping her take them off, and pulled her down into him, he wasted no time and guided her down onto him.

  He relaxed when she was on him, where she belonged. He pulled her top off, and pulled the straps of her bra down, taking a nipple in his mouth. He barely let her move, until she was begging, making little circular movements, and they both surrendered to the sensuality of the moment. It didn’t take long for the pleasure to become intense. The feel of the rush of warm wetness as she came was exquisite; he could live for that feeling, She collapsed against him, her body convulsed with the aftershocks that followed.

  “Please, Ryan, please.” She whispered into his neck. He pulled out, and laid her face down, he encircled her hips with one arm, her bottom raised slightly, and he eased back inside her, the angle was uncomfortable for her as he lay over her, he moved all the way in, and then out. He felt how tight it was straight away.

  “You feel so good.” She relished the discomfort, how he was lost to her. He picked up speed, little cries becoming desperate, he thrust hard into her as he came, flexing as he called her name.

  She smiled, it was perfect.

  Fifteen. Picking scabs

  “Tell me about your relationship with Ryan.”

  Em was defensive because she knew they would have this conversation. Portlock was good at her job; Em gave her that, it was probably why she hated going so much. She had begun to understand herself, her mother, her father, and the things that had happened in the past, she could give them names, label them.

  In doing that, she reassessed them, prioritise their importance to who she was, who she had become. Things made sense; the things she did, her behaviours, she questioned her decisions, the choices she made, and was able to make better choices because of it.

  But still, dredging up things she didn’t want to was a bitch.

  “It’s good. He’s very supportive. He knows about my past.”

  “That’s good.” Portlock’s smile was tight but sincere. “Do you think you are using him to distract yourself?”

  “No, it’s something I would have done four months ago, but now it’s different. I’m different. I want to be there for him, love him, and give him what he needs. I want the same from him. He wants that. It’s not just sex, but so much more. It was Ryan who gave me your number, not for selfish ends, but because he wants me to be happy.

  “No one has ever really wanted that, put me first, and risk their own ends for me. The people who are important to me put themselves first, or use me. Mum did it, as much as I love Angie, she did it. She gave me a home, and I love her kids, but she was my boss, and I was a good dancer for her.

  “Jess loves me, but I don’t know; she asks a lot of me sometimes. Then there’s dad, he never asked, but I gave. Maybe if our time weren’t so limited, it would have been different, but it was so intense, and harrowing.” Em shook her head. “Ryan knew I needed help, he stepped back, knowing I was vulnerable and held off until he saw I needed someone.” Em’s eyes filled with tears, and she looked upwards, reining in sudden anger and annoyance. Ryan was far too good for her, her selfishness, her greed for him, for something beautiful, and the venom at the back of her mind, spat hate at her. She wanted to scream.

  Em walked away from that session understanding that Ryan was perhaps too vital to her, and she was in danger of putting too much pressure on their relationship.

  Her impulse was to ring him, but she didn’t. She needed to think; she had to hold back, just for a while, and let things settle.

  Ryan was standing at her door, and she knew it was him before she turned when he knocked the door. She let him in and smiled cautiously, she wanted to hold onto him and cling to his strength, but she withdrew, her body vibrating with fear, sweat prickled at her back.

  She hadn’t seen him all week and had only briefly spoken on the phone. A few texts.

  “Em. What’s going on?” his tone was kind, but she saw the tension in him. She wanted to soothe him make love to him. Avoid.

  “Tea?”

  He nodded, and she put the kettle on.

  “So, we need to cool this down a little. Not your fault, it’s me. It’s always me. I’m putting a lot of pressure on me, on us, not outwardly, but…”

  He pinned her against the kitchen side. He cupped her face and kissed her. “I’m not letting you go, get used to it. I won’t abandon you, I won’t leave you, I love you, so much, and it overwhelms me at times. This is it for me. I might as well tell you that now because nothing will change that. Do you understand me?”

  His focus was intense, and she nodded.

  “Good. If you need a little space to refocus, fine, I’ll give it to you, but do not shut me out. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Right, want to eat?” he smiled, and she enfolded herself into him.

  She saw him once on the week after, and the same for the weeks following that and they didn’t always have sex. Things were shifting, and Em started to feel cut out of her life a little, separate from it. Jess was nesting, the others going their own ways. She was lonely, and she wanted Ryan.

  As much as she needed to reach out, she didn’t, she let his calls go unanswered, she didn’t answer Jess’s texts, she wrote instead, and let doubt and anger wash over her.

  In mid-December, everyone met up for drinks and karaoke. Em needed to do better, the disappointment she had in herself was annoying her, and so she dressed up and went out.

  Jess had a little bump and was glowing. Carl still had his smug, contented look. Em was unaccountably jealous. She wanted that with Ryan, and she was pushing him away.

  She met everyone there, but she was late. Ryan saw her but only waved. For all his words, he was increasingly distant, and she had done that, pushed him away, and she didn't know how to change it. She carried over her beer and kissed him on the cheek. His brows rose in surprise.

  Ryan sang a few songs, as well as the others. Ryan was standing with a few other people near the stage, she wanted to be at his side, his arm around her waist as they laughed, yet she couldn’t move.

  His eyes met hers as he walked over, his head tilting in question.

  She whispered in his ear. “Do you want to stay at mine?”

  She met his eyes, and they were cautious. Her smile died.

  “I have to get up early in the morning.”

  “Oh, okay.” She turned back to her drink.

  “Don’t you want to know why?”

  His voice made her shiver, and she missed him so much. Her anxiety balled in her; she was going to lose him. The little squat fucker was heavy on her shoulder as it whispered to her. He was going off her because she had pushed him away, and maybe he was only saying things she wanted to hear so that she’d carry on fucking him, but now? He was getting bored of waiting.

  “Okay, why?” she tried not to grimace as he put his arm on the back of her chair and leant close, reading everything in her.

  “I’m going to see an old friend; we were in foster care together.”

  “Wow. That�
�s a big deal.” She fidgeted, shrugging off her selfishness. “Do you, I mean would you like support?”

  His grin was reward enough, and he kissed the corner of her mouth. “No, but thank you so much for the offer, it means a lot to me. We have some things to talk about, things I want to say to you when you’re ready to hear them.”

  His eyes searched hers, and she nodded. “I’m here for you, anytime.”

  He kissed her, her hands went to his hair, and he almost pulled her off her chair. A throat cleared.

  “Fine.” He stood up, picked up their coats, pulled Em along, and they went outside.

  “Where are we going?”

  He turned that intense laser focus to her, making her blush. “Mine, it’s closer, will Cap be okay? I’ll have to kick you out early, but I need to be inside you. It’s been two weeks, and this is killing me.”

  His tone was apologetic as he flagged down a black cab, returning to Town Hill. She grinned the whole way.

  He pulled at her clothes as they fell inside, and ended up still half-dressed on the bedroom floor, wrapped up in each other, furious and needy. He carried her to the bed afterwards and held her.

  “I was starting to worry.” He spoke into her hair.

  “Me too, I don’t think I’m very good at this.”

  “Me either, good thing I love you.”

  “Me too.”

  He was tired and sounded it, and she kissed his lips gently, wanting to tell him everything in her heart, all her wants, all her fears, but she couldn’t. She let her kiss say the words.

  “Make love to me.” Her words were so quiet he nearly missed them.

  “Anything you say.”

  Em was at dance class, sweating in the cold of the room, Ryan texted her to tell her that he was home, and she was worried about him.

  She told him in her reply, ‘if you need me, I’m always yours’ so she gave him time, and hoped he was okay.

  She was chatting to Amy after they were wrapping up, she was kind and sweet, and a little in awe of Em, and though the attention was sugary, Amy’s shyness was adorable, and Em wanted to mother the girl.