Lush

by Chris Adonn

  She regarded her den with an analytical eye. The cream, turquoise, purple and pink ’70s style wallpaper was a bit of a giveaway, but the flat screen was huge and the Bose sound system was the kind of thing a guy would generally favour.

  Coming round the bar she handed Mike his drink then took a seat on the stool two down from the one he settled on. “Yeah, well I always was a tomboy. The rest of my place is more conventional. The interior decorator I hired gave it subtle feminine touches. No traces of the real me anywhere but here.”

  “So is this the only room that represents the real you?”

  “I guess so. This is the only room that I decorated and furnished on my own. This is where I come when I want to think, or just forget that I’m a proper adult who needs to make adult decisions.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Oh, just that I need to put a stop to this thing between us before you hurt me again. “I don’t know,” she said instead. “Probably just that sometimes the stresses from work and life get to me and I start questioning what I’m doing, where I’m going. You know, I only drew up a will a few months ago because my lawyers forced me too. I haven’t even given my retirement proper thought. Do I retire at fifty like my folks, or do I wait till I have to stop working? And if I retire young, how do I know how much of a nest egg will be enough? The economy is unstable and inflation is rising. And oh God, don’t get me started on the medical system. If something hap–”

  Michael cut her off with a sharp whistle. “Jesus woman! Stop before you make my brain bleed. Talk about twenty-five going on fifty-five. No wonder you need a place to escape. Sounds to me like you’ve given everything far too much thought.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, mirroring his earlier question and bemused tone. She actually knew exactly what he meant. She was babbling on about things that she never discussed with anyone but her folks.

  Like her dad, Michael obviously thought she was nuts to be worrying about things that few other twenty-five-year-olds worried about. But her mom seemed to understand her. Women were so much more practical than men.

  “It means you need to stop trying to control everything, and you sure as hell have to stop overthinking your life. Start enjoying it before it passes you by.”

  Riiight. She gave him her best give-me-a-break stare. “That’s rich. I don’t see you taking your own advice.

  “Excuse me?”

  “All you do is work.”

  “Says who?”

  “Your sister for one. She misses you, Mike.”

  He took a long sip from his bottle and nodded. “I know. And you’re right, I need to make some changes.”

  “Good. So let’s get to that honest conversation you wanted. You can ask the first question.”

  He laughed but it held no trace of real humour. “What? You mean this wasn’t already an honest conversation?”

  Fighting down the urge to roll her eyes she took a swig of her beer and gave him a patient smile. “It was, but I’d rather have some direction than just ramble on. Now ask your question so I can ask mine. You must have had something particular in mind when you proposed this tête-à-tête.”

  “Fair enough.” He pinned her down with a very penetrating gaze. “What was your ‘not that pretty’ comment about on Friday night? It’s been driving me crazy.”

  She tried to think up a way to sidestep the tiresome question but instead felt her temper flare. “Why are you so fixated on it? I told you it doesn’t matter.”

  He eyed her with a level of exasperation that seemed to match her own. “I’m fixated because it doesn’t tie in with who I think you are. It doesn’t fit with everything I’ve known about you since we were kids and all the new facets I’m discovering now.”

  Oh hell no! She would not let him talk her into exposing her deepest and darkest source of pain. If he couldn’t figure it out on his own he did not deserve to know. In fact the fact that he couldn’t figure it out was just further proof that everything she had ever felt for him was totally one-sided. “Seriously, Mike, drop it. It really and truly does not matter.”

  He put down his drink, spun out of his stool, and was in her face faster than a hiccup. “Bullshit. It matters. I can see it in your eyes every time I bring it up. It’s like the proverbial fucking elephant in the room. Just tell me already. You said you were open to having a completely honest conversation. So man up and let’s have it.”

  “Fine. You really want to know?” She put down her own drink and shoved him out of her space then got to her feet and started pacing. Best to just rip the Band-Aid off so he could satisfy his curiosity and she could slam the door on his face, and their sham of a friendship, when he ridiculed her. “It was what you said to me as you left me there in your parents’ garden that night when you kissed me and gave me an almighty lecture about staying away from guys till I was ready to face the consequences. Now have a good go at me about how stupid I am for holding on to past hurts and get the hell out of my apartment!”

  He pulled her up short and steered her back to her stool then took the one next to it. Trapping her knees with his own he forced her to face him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  Fighting back tears she stared him down. The second he blinked she let rip. “You said you didn’t want to see me end up like your mother when she fell pregnant with you! You told me that I wouldn’t be able to find a guy who’d marry me like she did, because even though I was pretty I was not that pretty!”

  “Oh Christ, Jules.” He slumped heavily against the bar top then reached for her beer and downed it before looking at her with a pained expression. “You were, and remain, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I was just trying to scare you off having sex, especially unprotected sex, till you were ready. I can’t even remember half the things I said that night because I was so fucking hot for you. I wanted to kiss you senseless and so much more from the second I saw you, and I knew that just about every other straight guy who could see you then would want the same thing. But you were too young and I was leaving for university. It drove me crazy to know that I couldn’t be with you. And worse, that I couldn’t trust myself to be with you.”

  “Well you sure had me fooled.”

  “Then I guess you were real easy to fool. I was so hard I thought I was going to explode. I’d been madly in love with you since you were fourteen and you climbed on my bike and said you’d love me forever if I taught you to ride. Teaching you was absolute torture because I’d never felt like that before, but there was nothing I could do about it. I was seventeen and it was inappropriate.”

  “I developed early, Mike. I looked at least sixteen when I was fourteen. That’s part of the reason my folks wouldn’t let me experiment with make-up and the clothes that all the other girls my age were starting to wear. Hell, with the right dress, a little mascara and lipstick, I could have gotten into an over 21 club. But here’s the thing; on the night you broke my heart I wasn’t fourteen anymore, I was fifteen and a half and I wanted you so bad.”

  “But I was eighteen, Jules. It was a huge age difference back then and no matter how physically developed you were, you were still officially a kid. I mean fuck, you’d never even kissed a guy until that night.”

  “Exactly! How do you think that made me feel? The guy I’d loved for half my life kissed me in a way that I’d never even imagined a kiss could be, then insulted me, then walked out of my life without so much as a backwards glance because he wanted to study in a country thousands of miles away and play the field!”

  Michael made a low, angry sound deep in his throat and glared at her. “I did not want to play the field! But yes, I did want to study thousands of miles away. I wanted to be somewhere where my father’s shadow didn’t reach me and I could not reach you. After that night, kissing you, I dreamt about you for three fucking years! I used to fantasise that things were different. That you were my age and that it was okay to want you the way I did. I planned our goddamned future and
imagined marrying you! Building a life with you! Fathering children with you! I lived for those fantasies, counting down the years and months till my graduation so I could come back to you!”

  “Then why didn’t you come back?” she screamed, yes screamed, because it was the only thing she could do to release the stabbing pain that his confession caused her. So many years wasted because he had not been honest with her when she’d offered him her heart.

  He raked his fingers through his hair and his anger turned into a frustrated groan. “’Cause you got together with Rodger’s cousin in your freshman year at NYU. Let’s face it, I didn’t stand a chance. Andrew was the perfect guy that every girl in New York wanted to be with. And before you deny it, I know it’s true. Even Kirsten got all dreamy whenever she talked about him.”

  “You didn’t even try to find out if that was how I felt too.”

  “There was no point! I heard through the grapevine that he was your first and you were totally crazy about him. This is going to sound so fucked up and immature, but I guess learning that you gave your virginity to him destroyed my dreams.”

  Even though the confession was not remotely ridiculous she let out a derisive laugh. Mainly because she was close to spilling serious tears now; angry, exasperated, miserable tears. “Yeah, that is fucked up. I can’t believe what a chauvinist you are, getting all bent out of shape about the loss of my virginity when it could have been yours any time you wanted if you’d just told me how you felt that last night on the rooftop. And by the way, I wasn’t all that into Andrew. I was just desperate to shake off my, wait for it. Virginity! And he was a safe choice. You know, Mike, if you had called me just once and told me to wait for you I would have. If you had told me how you really felt I would have waited for you for the rest of my life. I was so crazy in love with you that I would have done anything to be with you.”

  “Then why the hell did you never call me?” he demanded angrily.

  “Have you not heard a word I said? You cut me to the core that night on the roof! You destroyed my faith in love, and for a little while you even wrecked my self-esteem. I think it’s thanks to you that I’ve never really fallen for anyone. You made me give up on love just as I had my first taste of the physical side of it!”

  He looked at her without saying anything for a long time, then he said so softly that it was barely a whisper, “I’m sorry, Jules. I had no idea that your feelings for me ran that deep.”

  “Bullshit! You knew how I felt! That’s why you knew that I’d meet you on the rooftop at midnight!”

  “I thought it was just a girlish crush.”

  “Why should that have made a difference to you? You were a player! As far as I can tell girlish crushes are what guys like you thrive on.”

  He stared at her with open hurt, then swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “If it makes you feel any better, I stopped playing the field after I kissed you. I didn’t so much as look at another girl till after you and Andrew got together.”

  The air left her lungs in a rush. Of all the revelations Michael had made, this one was the sucker punch to crown all sucker punches. “I never... I never knew.”

  “Well Julia, tonight we’ve both learned lots of things that we never knew, but it doesn’t really matter now.”

  “Actually it does.” She took a few deep and soothing breathes as the anxiety knotting her gut dissolved. The old hurts dimmed to mere memories, and everything changed. There was a real chance that they could finally have everything they’d dreamed of all those years ago. Live the life they’d both fantasised about. All they needed to keep working on was trust and communication. The rest was easy. “You know what I just realised?”

  He clenched his jaw and looked away. “That I’m an idiot.”

  “No. I realised that a few minutes back. What I just now realised is that your sister was right. I don’t really know you half as well as I think I do.”

  He chuckled half-heartedly. “Yeah, back at ya.” Then he smiled sadly. “I owe you an apology, Jules. I destroyed your trust in me that night on my parents’ roof and I didn’t even realise it. I thought I was being so fucking honourable.”

  “Apology accepted, Mike.”

  “Thank you. That means a lot.” But the look in his soulful eyes was raw sorrow.

  “Why still so sad, Winthrop?”

  He shrugged but there was nothing light about it. He looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Because I can’t turn back time, Kincaid. If I could I would never have hurt you.”

  Even though she wanted to wrap her arms around him and kiss away all his sadness it was clear that they had to break down the wall of tension that their mutual confessions had forged. Since nothing could put cracks in walls faster than humour she chuckled and gave his bicep a light punch. “You’re actually super-sensitive underneath that muscled exterior of yours. It’s so damn adorable.”

  He rubbed his arm and laughed softly. “Right now I can’t tell if that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, or an insult.”

  She smirked and leaned into his space. “It’s whatever it needs to be to get you to kiss me.” Because nothing got rid of crumbling walls faster than a kiss.

  “An insult then.” With that he pulled her into his arms and kissed her in a way that made her toes curl. It was hard and deep and full of pent-up frustration and hunger. And then it was soft and sweet and full of yearning and tenderness. It was the most poignant kiss ever shared between two people, and it was beautiful.

  When she finally came up for air, and they both sucked in mouthfuls of the stuff, every last trace of tension had withered away.

  “Wow, Mike. I should insult you more often. Let’s do that again.” She caught handfuls of his jacket and drew him closer for round two, but he had other plans.

  Pulling her onto his lap so she was straddled across him he grinned wickedly and said, “Sure, but you might want to hold on tighter.”

  Running her fingers through his hair and mussing it up nice and good, like she’d secretly always wanted to, she grinned right back. “If you want me to hold on tighter you’re gonna have to show me some passion.”

  “Sassy brat.” He wrapped his powerful arms around her and pressed the impressively obvious evidence of his arousal into the juncture of her thighs. “How’s that for passion?” Before she could respond he captured her mouth and showed her more passion than she’d ever dreamed of.

  The way he pulled her tongue into his mouth, the way he suckled and nibbled at her lips, the way he moaned against her, right through her... It was.... The words to explain just how passionate it was did not exist yet.

  When they resurfaced neither of them could speak, they simply held on tight and stared into each other’s eyes.

  “We gonna go all the way this time?” she asked once she could finally form coherent words.

  In response he smirked like a total scoundrel and kissed her again.

  This time it was all give and take. Their tongues duelling as they explored each other’s mouths. Their breaths mingling as they found a perfect rhythm. Their hands roaming as they learned to multitask. It was only after he broke the latest kiss that she realised he’d removed both their jackets and was unclipping her bra under her t-shirt.

  “Is that a yes then?” she asked, grinding against him in a way that hit all the right notes with her girly bits.

  “Yes, Jules, it’s a hell yes.” he tugged up her t-shirt and sent it sailing across the room with her bra, and before she knew it he was reclining her against the bar counter and trailing hot, decadent kisses down her jaw, to the column of her throat, to the well between her breasts, and finally clamping onto a rigid nipple. He suckled and laved the nub for what felt like a heavenly eternity as his magnificent fingers teased its twin.

  Somehow, even though her body and mind were completely engrossed in the sensations he was creating, she managed to unbutton his jeans and work his fly down.

  “Ah yes, sweetheart, jus
t like that,” he murmured as she got her hand into his boxer briefs and squeezed then stroked the prominent girth of him.

  “Mike,” she moaned as his hands cupped her denim-clad bottom and kneaded it in a way that turned it into an erogenous zone. “I need you right now. Help me get my jeans off. We can worry about the foreplay later.”

  He shook his head against her neck. “I want us both completely naked and on a bed for our first time.”

  “Works for me.” She wiggled out of his arms and started making for her bedroom but he caught her from behind and swung her around. With an impressive show of strength he pulled her up and against him, then leisurely sauntered to her bedroom even as she wrapped her legs around him and tried to ride him through their clothes.

  God, she was behaving like a rutting savage, but he brought it out in her. Everything about him demanded it. His scent especially. Nothing on earth smelled as amazing as Mike. She wanted to dive into that scent and never come up. She wanted to envelope that fragrance and take it onto her body and never let go.

  As he laid her down on her bed and covered her with his body she almost came undone just from the intensity of her arousal.

  This moment, right now with Michael, was the realisation of the dream they’d both shared and hidden from each other and it was finally coming into fruition.

  Without any warning he pulled away from her. “Jesus, Jules. What did I do? Was I hurting you? You don’t want this? What?”

  “Mike, what are to talking about? I want you more than anything. You’re doing everything right. You’re not hurting me.”

  “Then why are you crying?”

  She brought her hand to her cheek and felt the moisture even before she registered that her vision wasn’t totally clear. “I’m... I guess I’m just happy. It’s finally you and me and this time... I don’t have the words. It’s...”

  He smiled, and the way it reached and filled his eyes, she knew that he understood. “Jules, I might be rushing this but I’ve waited almost eleven years to tell you. I love you.”