by A. J. Downey
“Because of my dad…” I started.
“Oh God! Did he…?” he crushed me to him and I scowled pushing him back so I could look at him.
“God no! He died Evan… Huntington’s…” and my eyes swam with tears as they always did when I said it aloud. Evan crushed me to him again and this time I let him. It was as if I’d been doused with a bucket of ice water.
“So you don’t want to have kids?” he asked after a time.
“No, I want to have kids, I just… I couldn’t bear going through something like that again. My mom and dad found out about him being sick shortly after I was born. When I was eight, my dad decided the truth would be best, mostly because they couldn’t hide it anymore. It was an awful way to die Evan. I couldn’t bear passing it to my child. I’d rather adopt…” I sniffed.
“Okay, okay… Shhhh…” this was a role reversal. Now it was Evan comforting me. I wound around him and was grateful for the shelter of his arms.
“I’m sorry baby, I’m so sorry…” he murmured into my hair.
“I’m sorry too…” I whimpered into his chest, and I was. My dad had died when I was eighteen, Evan’s loss was still fresh. I wiped my tears away with my fingers and leaned back.
We talked some more, mostly me about my dad until my stomach growled. We laughed and got out of bed and Evan took me out for pancakes, and for the first time whatever we had going on felt normal.
It was nice.
Chapter 12
Evan was driving me nuts.
Sometimes in a good way, other times not… He ran so hot and cold. After we’d gone to breakfast he’d dropped me off at home with a kiss that was both gentle and beautiful and just what I’d needed. He promised to come by later but then I hadn’t seen him… for three days.
I went through my work weekend on auto pilot and had finally come to the debilitating conclusion that my status as a genetic time bomb probably had something to do with it. It’s why I didn’t tell people about it, or the reason why I didn’t want children as a general rule. I got one of two reactions, either pity or this… a complete withdrawal altogether.
Either one sucked. I swallowed hard and tried to concentrate on the textbook in my lap and couldn’t. Truth was I was hurting. Badly. I missed Evan and it hurt. There I admitted it. It was like three steps forward two steps back with this guy!
A knock at my door. I got up and went to it, my mouth going dry, my eyes growing hot at the image of Evan’s bent head on the other side of the peep hole.
“What do you want?” I called through the closed door. He raked his hand through his lank hair and called back…
“I want to talk to you.” I chewed my lip in indecision.
“Come on London, please?” he begged and anger swelled in my breast.
“No. Go away Evan!” I went back to my bed.
“Come on L.B.! I’m a dick! I’m sorry! I just had something I had to go do and it took longer than I thought it would!” there was a long silence and with a half shouted curse a hard thump. I think he kicked my door. I closed my eyes, swallowing hard.
Finally my anger won out. I went to my door and ripped it open.
“How much of your bullshit do you expect me to buy!?” I demanded angrily. Evan was crouched by the railing, cigarette in his hand curling pungent spicy smoke into the air.
“I really didn’t think it would take me that long. I expected to be back the next day but…”
“But what Evan!? I mean honestly!” his eyes narrowed in my direction.
“What did you think?” he asked, gaze raking over me. I stood there hugging myself and suddenly the words dried up and blew away. I didn’t want to tell him what I’d thought. It sounded pathetic.
“What did you think when I didn’t come back right away L.B.?” he stood in one fluid movement and I cast my eyes to the floor.
“Shit, you thought it was you…” he said, dawning realization in his voice, he took a step forward and I took one back.
“Was it?” I asked and winced when my voice cracked with emotion. I both wanted and didn’t want to know.
“Jesus Christ…” he muttered and I looked up to see him, head bowed, fisting the front of his hair.
“Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ…” he said over and over bouncing in place.
“FUCK!” he screamed and spun, letting fist fly, he punched the wooden trim around the alcove. I cried out in dismay and took a halfhearted step forward. He immediately cradled his hand against his chest. His green eyes flicked to me, gaze tempestuous.
“Jesus Christ… Look at us.” He whispered.
I fell back and hugged myself even tighter.
“What?” I asked.
“Look at us, look at me!” he repeated. “Jesus Christ L.B. I’ve gone and dicked you over again, and idiot that I am I go and punch a wall and there you are, trying to look after me, again! Don’t you see it!? You’re pure fucking goodness! I don’t deserve you.” He hung his head. I sniffed.
“I thought it was because of what I told you.” I said.
“What!?” he looked at me confused.
“You know, the truth about me, about my family. They call it a disease you know, but it’s not, it’s really not it’s more like a syndrome, it’s not contagious it’s genetic and I – I thought you…” He closed the gap between us in one long stride and pulled me against him. I buried my face in his shoulder and I cried.
“Naw. You remember how I said D. and I grew up in a small town?” he asked.
“Yeah.” I warbled piteously between sobs.
“Well I had to go there, talk to his grandparents, they still live there.” He swallowed convulsively.
“I ended up staying longer than I thought I would. It was good, you know?” he asked. I didn’t but I said I did anyways.
“Yeah…”
“I’m such a god damned fuck up when it comes to you,” he breathed into my ear, “I keep asking myself why I had to meet you all turned upside down and inside out… I wish I could keep my shit contained but it keeps pouring all over you and fucking damn it London you deserve better than that, better than me…” he cupped my tearstained face in his hands and tipped it back so he could look into my face.
“I can’t help coming back to you, you know why?” he asked.
“No…”
“’Cause as fucked up as I am, the only time anything feels all right is when I’m with you.” He crushed his mouth over my own and for several seconds I just stood there startled by his revelation. I blinked and slowly let the kiss consume me, swearing to myself that this was it, the last time…
No more chances for Evan Lake, my heart wasn’t going to take it.
Stage 5
Acceptance
Chapter 13
Evan returned later that night with a black soft cast on his hand. He’d had to go to the emergency room when the swelling wouldn’t come down and it had become too painful to move his wrist. He came to my door rather than just going up to his own apartment.
“Lock it up,” he’d ordered, “You’re staying at my place tonight.”
I probably should have argued his heavy handedness but the truth was, I didn’t want to, so I’d done what he’d told me to do, I locked up my apartment and went up to his. We’d both fallen asleep pretty quickly. Emotional exhaustion does that to a person.
Now it was late, the sky dark, the neighborhood silent. I don’t know what woke me just that I was.
“Evan?” I asked softly.
“Yeah?” he answered immediately.
“Did you wake me?” I asked.
“Sorry babe, I didn’t mean to, couldn’t get comfortable.” He kissed my forehead. I lay with my head on his shoulder, his good arm wrapped around me holding me snug against him. His soft casted arm, the one with the beautiful tattoo sleeve, rested on the futon mattress alongside him. He hadn’t broken anything, thank God, just put a bad sprain on his wrist.
I’d thrown a leg over both of his as we’d slept and
I was suddenly very conscious of the intimate position we were in.
“I want to fuck you so bad.” He murmured and heat raced along my veins, nerves sparked to life along my spine and my core gave a pleasurable little throb.
“Why don’t you?” I asked breathy.
“Because you don’t deserve to be fucked, you deserve to be worshiped. You deserve everything.” He said.
I sat up, pushing off the futon with my arm that was trapped beneath me, smoothly sliding my leg that was already over him to where I could straddle his lean hips. I sept my long dark hair over my shoulder and looked down at him from my new perch. He’d stopped breathing and stared up at me with some apprehension.
“What if I don’t want everything Evan?” I asked him quietly.
“What” he cleared his throat, “What do you want L.B.?” he asked me.
“I just want you.” I murmured and brought my lips to his. His hands drifted to my knees, sliding up under my nightgown to grasp my hips. He groaned into my mouth and kissed me back and I could feel him lengthen and thicken against my mound, his flesh growing impossibly hot through the thin material of his boxer shorts.
“London…” he gasped.
“Evan…” I murmured back flippantly.
His long fingers gripped the bottom of my nightgown and drew it up over my stomach I raised my arms and he stripped it off of me in one fluid movement. He gasped and stared up at me, his green eyes colorless in the white wash of moonlight through the window.
“God you’re beautiful.” He stated and I bent and fastened my lips to his in a gentle kiss. His hands gathered my hair and gently held it back from our faces as he gently rocked his hips upward into mine.
I groaned into his mouth and I think he came undone because with a speed, strength and accuracy I didn’t know he possessed, his arms went around me and he rolled us. Suddenly I was on my back with Evan kneeling between my thighs. He pulled off his boxers, ad his long thick cock bobbed between us. I wrapped gentle fingers around him and his eyes closed, head thrown back, lips parted and a shuddering cry emitted from somewhere deep in his chest. It was beautiful and a moment I wish I could capture on film. Raw and honest and incredibly erotic in its simplicity.
“Please don’t stop me this time Evan…” I begged and he looked down at me, a feral heat in his expression.
“I can’t baby. I can’t stop this time even if I wanted to.” He took himself from my hand and guided himself to my opening. I arched beneath him as he worked his way into my body. He held himself stiff above me and watched as he slid into me, the look on his face one of pure bliss. I watched his face and reached up, capturing it between my hands. He looked down at me, eyes glazed with passion a dark desire flickering in their depths.
“God Evan kiss me.” I breathed and he bent at the elbow and pressed his lips against mine. I devoured him, cradling his head and shoulders sweetly against me. He broke the kiss with a cry and sat up between my legs, thrusting forward, hooded eyes watching me, gauging my reaction. I cried out softly and arched to meet him. His hands gripped my hips and pulled me to meet the thrusting of his hips I covered his hands with mine and watched him watch me.
“God London, I’ve wanted you since the moment you knelt down beside me on that landing outside your door.” His hip movements were controlled and deliberate, a steady build, setting my body to a slow burn. I clenched my walls around him and he cried out.
“Evan!” I gasped and he smiled down at me. He put a hand on my pubic bone and found my clit with the pad of his thumb. He dipped it down and slicked some of my wetness up over the sensitive bundle of nerves. I cried out and arched into him. He stilled inside me and tortured my clit I clenched around him and he smiled down at me.
“That’s right baby, come apart for me.” He breathed and gave a series of short rapid thrusts.
I dragged in a breath and unraveled beneath him with a cry, back arching off the bed as sparks flitted to the ends of every nerve ending my body possessed. He smiled down at me and moved his thumb from my hypersensitive nub and began to work himself in and out of me again, establishing a pace to meet his needs.
I moaned and fisted the sheets by my hips, my ass rising off the bed to meet his forward momentum. He lowered over the top of me and kissed me long and deep. I raked nails from his shoulders to the top of his ass my breath coming in short gasps. Another orgasm was building and I was riding on that fine razor’s edge. He kept me there for as long as he could smiling down at the beautiful mess he was making.
“God I fucking love you!” He grunted and I fell off the edge and plunged with an inarticulate cry into wave after warm wave of pure bliss.
Chapter 14
God I fucking love you! Evan’s words from the night before echoed inside my head with the feeling of sable soft fur. I closed my eyes and sipped my coffee, staring at my computer monitor.
I had completed the image of him standing on the stairwell landing. Painstakingly matching the color and hue of his tattoo and injecting the colors into the image in photo shop in my spare time between project images. What had taken me forever wasn’t the tattoo itself, it had been his eyes. Getting his eye color correct had been a monumental task. Now his tattoo and his far away eyes were the only spots of color in an otherwise grayscale image and the result, well it was breathtaking. Probably my finest piece of photographic art I had ever done.
I printed it out when a knock sounded at my door. I glanced down at my printer under the desk and smiled. I was going to give it to Evan as a gift. I got up and padded down the hall to my front door and peeked through the peephole. I smiled and opened the door.
“Hey beautiful.” The man of the hour pulled me against him and kissed me. I smiled against his mouth.
“What’d you bring?” I asked. He held up a bag of Styrofoam take out containers and raised his eyebrows.
“Dinner is served.” He said and I smiled.
“I’ll get some plates.” I retreated into the kitchen and he set down the bag on the counter.
“That your dad?” he asked nodding in the direction of my desktop screen.
“Yeah.” I said softly. The picture was the last good one taken of him. He was in his wheelchair and smiling at the camera. I was perched over his shoulder and smiling too. His arm had twisted and rode up against his chest by then.
“Hey, L.B. c’mere.” Evan pulled me against him when my eyes misted.
“I’m fine.” I said and smiled, pulling myself out of it.
“I miss him.” He said opening the top container. The smell of Chinese food invaded my kitchen.
“D?” I asked.
“Yeah. I think it’s finally real you know it?” he asked.
“What’s real?” I asked.
“He’s gone, and he’s not coming back.” He answered and I spared a look at my desk top before the screensaver took over in colored swirls.
“Yeah. I know.” I set down the plates and silverware and went to him. We held each other for a long time. Drawing strength from one another while our food started cooling on the counter.
“Food’s getting cold.” I murmured.
“That’s what they make microwaves for.” He breathed, walking me back out of the kitchen towards the bed.
Indeed.
~*~
“Shit!” I jumped out of bed and stared at the clock. I was fifteen minutes late getting up. I was going to miss my bus!
Evan sat up.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Finals! I have to get to class!” I rushed around the apartment and got dressed. I threw my hair up into a messy knot and scooped the pictures off my printer shoving them carefully but haphazardly into a portfolio and zipping it closed.
“Go!” he kissed me quickly and said “I’ll lock up and take the fire escape.”
“Thanks!” I said and raced out the door, hopping on one foot while I pulled on my other ballet flat. I pounded down the stairs and raced up the block, barely making my bus, diving int
o the doors as they shut behind me with a pneumatic hiss.
I dropped into the first available seat and willed my heart rate down and my breathing to return to normal. Spring rain pattered against the window and I was shedding droplets of water from my coat. I opted not to open my portfolio until I was safely in the classroom.
~*~
“London, let’s see what you’ve got.” Professor England, no that isn’t a joke but it was a hilarious coincidence, held out her hand for my portfolio. Her class was pretty informal and there were only eight of us left, so we sat around one of the islands more like a meet and greet than a class of students handing in their final projects.
“There are thirteen images here not twelve, which one would you like to omit?” she asked. My brow furrowed.
“I only printed off twelve, are you sure?” I asked.
“Quite.” She laid them out on the island.
“Is that Dorian Metzger!?” A girl whose name escaped me asked.
“Who?” I asked, and she held up a photo to her face.
“It is! Oh my God how did you meet him!?” she turned the photo so I could see and it was Evan.
“Oh no! You must have him confused with someone else, that’s my upstairs neighbor, Evan.” I reached for the photo.
“Girl that’s Dorian Metzger, I’d stake my life on it.” she said.
Professor England took the photo from her and looked it over.
“I would omit this one.” She said pointedly and handed me the one of the mask in the cherry tree. I slid it back into my portfolio.
“That’s my upstairs neighbor, Evan Lake.” I said with conviction.
“Mmm no, I’m a diehard Elysium fan. That’s their lead guitarist, Dorian Metzger.” She pulled out her phone and I frowned at her. I shook my head exasperated.
“I think I would know,” I said, “Evan wouldn’t keep…” the words died on my lips when she turned her phone around and Evan’s piercing green eyes stood out behind the shoulder of another handsome young man. Behind the young man’s other shoulder a familiar blue eyed bald man. Hal.
The blood roared in my ears, I stood up and the world went topsy-turvy for a second there. I couldn’t get enough air.