The Other One

by Jiffy Kate

  “It was for me, too,” I reply, kissing the top of her head and feeling completely content as we fall asleep.

  The sounds of children squealing and laughing wake me from the best dream I’ve had in a long time. When I open my eyes, I see my beautiful girl still curled into me, and nothing—not even the sex dream I was having—can beat this.

  Not wanting to disturb Loren with my morning wood or my niece and nephew playing outside, I slip out of bed and get myself ready for the day. Ben waves at me when I step outside, and meets me at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Sorry if the kids are bothering you. I had to get them out of the house to burn off some energy. Liza and your mom didn’t get back from shopping until 5:30 this morning, so they’re both crashed inside.”

  “It’s all good, man.”

  “So, you have a girlfriend now . . .” Ben never was a subtle guy.

  “Yeah, I do,” I answer. I don’t even try to keep the smile off my face.

  “That’s great, Tripp. I really am glad you two were able to work through the accident and everything.”

  “Me too. Can I ask you something without you freaking out?”

  “Tripp, I’m hurt. When do I ever freak out?” The seemingly innocent expression he’s wearing only makes me laugh, calling him out on his bullshit.

  “Whatever, Ben. But seriously, I need some advice. How soon is too soon to take things to the next . . . you know . . . level?”

  I should probably feel bad for laughing at him as he sputters coffee out of his mouth, but I don’t. This is Ben; he deserves it.

  “Shit, man. I know this isn’t the first time you’ve been . . . intimate . . . with a girl. Why is it different this time?”

  “Because it is, and you fucking know it.” I glare at him to emphasize my words, making his hands fly up in front of him in a peaceful gesture.

  “Easy, tiger. I was just testing you. I’m glad to see you’re serious about this . . . about Loren . . . but I can’t tell you when the right time to get physical is. That’s for you two to decide together.”

  “She’s asleep upstairs.” Ben’s raised eyebrows encourage me to continue. “We haven’t done anything but kiss, but things are starting to escalate. Quickly. It’s just so intense with Loren. Being with someone has never felt like this before. It’s getting harder and harder to hold back, no pun intended, and I don’t know if I can handle it yet. Emotionally, I mean. We’re only beginning, and I don’t want to mess it up.”

  My brother-in-law is quiet for a moment, and I wonder if I’ve shared too much.

  “Tripp, what you just said tells me two important things. One, you’re not ready for sex yet, so don’t push it. There’s plenty of time for that later. Two, you’re in love, dude. Congratulations.”

  I expect the increase in my heart rate. I expect the flush that runs from my neck down to my fingertips. I even expect my breaths to become shallow. What surprises me is how those responses in my body quickly calm, leaving a peaceful hum deep into my bones.

  A couple of hours later, Loren and I are sitting at the same coffee shop we’ve visited a few times.

  “Are you worried about finals?” I ask her.

  “Not really. I’m just so ready to be done with this semester. One more and I graduate!” A proud smile covers Loren’s face before she asks about my finals.

  “I’m not too worried either. There’s only one class that I need to study for, and thankfully, it’s my last final of the week, so I’ll have extra time to study.”

  “I can help you study,” she offers. Her smile is now playful and causes me to laugh.

  “I’d love that. I’m sure you can come up with an incentive or two to keep me on track.”

  “I’m sure I can think of something to reward you with,” she says with a smile.

  When I grab her hand and kiss her fingers, her giggle warms me up more than my coffee.

  “Will your work hours change much in December?” she asks, letting me hold onto her hand.

  “Wyatt asked if I’d be willing to work a couple of extra days a week leading up to Christmas, and I told him I would. I’ll have the time, and the extra money will be nice. Will I still see you on Thursdays?”

  Loren gently takes her hand back and silently stirs her coffee for a moment before answering me. “I’ve been thinking about that.”

  Crap. She’s going to stop coming to the café. I just know it.

  I force myself to remain calm and wait for her response instead of immediately overreacting.

  It won’t be the same without her there on Thursday nights, but I’ll handle it. It just means we’ll have to figure out other ways to see each other. We can do that.

  “I don’t think I should go to the café on Thursday nights anymore. I don’t want to punish myself anymore . . . or whatever it was I was doing. Besides, I’m not so sure I want to substitute one ritual for another. I just don’t know if that’s healthy for me . . . or us. Does that make sense?”

  “Yeah, it does. I have a tendency to do a lot of things in a ritualistic manner since the accident, and sometimes it hurts more than it helps. I’ll miss you, but we’ll figure something out.”

  Loren reaches across the table and squeezes my hand tightly, and the apprehension I was feeling melts away.

  We’ll be okay.

  We can do this.

  Tripp

  THE WEATHER IN southeast Louisiana can vary greatly this time of year. Even though it’s technically almost winter, it can still be humid and muggy in December. Thankfully, a cold front came through last night, keeping today’s temperatures in the low fifties. The strong breeze works in my favor, causing Loren to snuggle into my side as we walk throughout The Quarter. Finals are over, and we’re celebrating the end of the semester by doing some holiday window shopping.

  “Are you sure you’re okay with not seeing your dad for Christmas?” I ask, brushing a stray hair off her beautiful face.

  “Yeah, we only speak a couple of times a year, so he’ll be satisfied with a phone call,” she says with a small smile.

  “Will you be satisfied, though?” I ask. I couldn’t care less if Mr. Jensen is okay with their arrangement. My only concern is Loren.

  “I’ll be fine, Tripp, especially if I’m with you.” She smiles up at me, her eyes as bright as the Christmas lights decorating the streets.

  “You’ll be with me. That’s a given. My mama can’t wait to spoil you.” After kissing her lips, I pull back to see a panicked expression on her beautiful face. “What?”

  “What do you mean?” she asks. “Please don’t go overboard on my account. My income is very limited, and it’ll make me feel uncomfortable if I can’t reciprocate.”

  “No, baby. Don’t worry about that. I mean, I can’t promise we all won’t go overboard with each other. It’s kind of an Alexander holiday tradition. But we’re excited to include you in our traditions and spend as much time with you as possible. My mama was giddy as a loon this morning, talking about teaching you all her holiday recipes.” I chuckle to myself at the memory before looking back at Loren. “We’d never do anything to make you uncomfortable. My family is very close, and we’re very affectionate. If that makes you uneasy, we’ll tone it down.”

  “Tripp, I don’t want your family to change anything for me. I adore them. I’m just not used to the whole close-knit family thing. I’ve never had that. So, this is all new to me.”

  I watch as her fingers wrap around the front of my jacket, pulling me closer. She loves doing that and I love it when she does. It makes me think there’s a chance she wants me as much as I want her.

  Her eyes stay level with my chest as she says softly, “But I want that with you.”

  My Ania.

  Cupping her face in my hands, I tilt it so that she has no choice but to look at me. “I want that too, Loren. So fucking much.” Our mouths meet, and it isn’t long before our tongues start exploring, the kiss deepening. A passerby clears their throat, and I reluctantly pull a
way. Loren whimpers as we part, resting her forehead against my chest.

  “Maybe we should go back to my place,” I suggest with a smirk.

  “I think that’s a great idea,” she agrees before taking my hand and pulling me down the sidewalk.

  I’ve been using public transportation for almost a year and have never regretted it. It takes longer to get to my destination, but it’s comfortable. Not today, though. Today is the first time in my recovery I’m wishing I could drive so Loren and I can get home as soon as possible.

  As we sit on the bench watching the city pass us by, Loren’s hand travels up and down my thigh at a soothing pace. I love how she knows what I need and when I need it, but this time, her movements are having the opposite effect on me. When I feel myself begin to harden, I place my hand on top of hers and lace our fingers together, forcing her to stop.

  “What’s wrong?” she asks quietly, her lips so close to my skin I can feel her warm breath.

  Facing her, I blurt out the truth. “I was feeling frustrated that I can’t drive us home, but then you started rubbing my leg . . . and well, now I’m a different kind of frustrated.”

  Loren’s cheeks redden before she hides her face in my shoulder. I’m worried that I’ve embarrassed her by being too honest, until I feel her body shake with laughter. I poke her side and make her yelp, causing us both to laugh loudly.

  Once we’ve calmed down, she settles back into to me, lacing our fingers again. “Have you thought about trying to drive again?”

  Her question is innocent enough, yet it causes anger to surge through me. “I can’t, Loren.”

  “But—”

  “Just drop it,” I snap and the sharp tone surprises me. If it surprises her, she doesn’t show it. It also doesn’t stop her from pressing the topic.

  “Tripp, I think we should talk about this.”

  “I think you should mind your own damn business.” I don’t know where that came from and I immediately feel guilty for saying it to her.

  When the bus stops, I waste no time getting off. I don’t even wait for her before I start walking toward my house.

  “Tripp Alexander!” she yells from behind me, causing me to stop. I feel like an asshole. I know none of this is her fault and I don’t know why I’m taking my frustrations out on her, but I don’t turn around to face her. I can’t. She doesn’t deserve my anger, but I don’t know where else to direct it.

  I sense her more than hear her when she walks up behind me. “What the hell was that?” she asks with a hint of anger, but more concern than anything. “Tripp, look at me.”

  I don’t move, so she walks around in front of me and tries to block my view of the ground.

  “Hey, talk to me.” Her tone is soft now—much softer than I deserve. “I’m not letting you shut down on me, so tell me what happened back there on the bus.”

  I close my eyes tightly and take a deep breath before answering. “I’m such a fucking loser; I can’t even drive my girlfriend to the store or on a date or anywhere,” I admit. “I want to, but I can’t, and I hate it. When you started pressuring me, it made me feel even worse. I got pissed, and I lashed out.”

  I think for a second that she might be gone, because it’s dead silent, except for the random passing car.

  When I open my eyes, she’s still there, and she’s glaring at me. “For the record,” she says, narrowing her eyes. “I was not pressuring you. I simply asked you a question.”

  Her hands go to her hips and I know this pose. What small amount of self-preservation I have left makes me internally flinch.

  “I was only trying to help,” she continues. “To be honest, sometimes I think you need to be pushed out of your comfort zone. You’ll never know if you can drive again until you try, and if you’ll let me, I’d like to help you.”

  Her eyes are ablaze and her hair is a bit crazy, but she’s never looked more beautiful. Even through the anger, I can see how much she cares about me and it makes me want to be better, but what if I can’t?

  “But what if I fail?” I ask, my voice rising in volume and my hand going instinctively to my hair, pulling as I feel the spiral of irrationality coming over me.

  “Then you try again,” she says with conviction, making it sound so simple.

  Her faith in me is astounding. I don’t know if she realizes what she does for me, just by being here, just by being her.

  “Why?” I ask as my throat tightens around the question.

  “Why what?” Her confusion is apparent, but I’m having a hard time answering her.

  A moment passes before I let out all my worries.

  “Why everything,” I say, laughing, but there’s no humor in it—laughing so I don’t cry. “Why are you with me? Why do you care if I fail or not? Do you realize I might never drive again? What if I work at the café for the rest of my life . . . and live over my sister’s garage? You deserve better than that, Loren, and I’m scared I’m not going to be enough for you.”

  My words are coming out in short gasps, so I bend over with my hands on my knees, trying to get my breathing back under control.

  Loren gives me a few minutes to collect myself before reaching her hand out to me, waiting patiently for me to take it.

  When I do, she leads me across the street, around the corner, and up the stairs to my apartment, never saying a word. She’s still not speaking to me as she waits for me to unlock the door, and I can only assume she’s letting my words sink in and agreeing with them.

  Once inside, she pulls me to the couch and sits me down before straddling my lap.

  “I understand your fears; I have some of my own.” When she pauses, I start to reply, but she places her hand firmly on my chest and shakes her head ‘no’. “You, Tripp Alexander, are enough. You’re more than enough. I don’t care if you never drive again, and I couldn’t give a rat’s ass if you live here and work at The Crescent Moon forever. What I do care about is you giving up and not trying. If we’re going to be together, I’m not going to sit by and let you wallow in self-loathing. I’m going to push you to succeed, to reach your goals . . . because I believe in you. And I’m with you because I love you.”

  I’m afraid to move, afraid to blink because I don’t want this to be a dream. When Loren whispers, “I love you,” this time against my lips, I become alive again, crashing my mouth to hers.

  Only when I need to breathe, do I move my lips across her jaw and down her neck, not wanting to break contact with her skin. It finally dawns on me that I never told her how I feel about her, and I can’t get the words out fast enough.

  “I love you” I tell her in a rush. “Never . . . never did I believe I’d ever find someone like you. Someone who sees me, knows all of my secrets and flaws and loves me anyway.”

  “You’re perfect . . . perfect for me. Never doubt that.” Her demanding tone carries over into her kiss, claiming what already belongs to her.

  In the month and a half we’ve been together, Loren and I have only kissed. Nothing else. Now, though, I need more. I want more. Her lips are heaven, but I want to feel her skin on mine. With the way she’s grinding on my lap, I’m pretty sure she feels the same way.

  Taking the initiative, I stand up, holding her to me, and carry her to my bed. Now that we’re here, and this is happening, I want to slow down, savor her.

  “Can I see you?” I ask, desperation thick in my voice . . . in my veins. All I can think about is showing her how much I love her, memorizing every inch of her.

  “Only if I can see you, too,” Loren answers, pushing my jacket off my shoulders.

  Such an impatient girl.

  I sit up and remove my button-down shirt, followed by my T-shirt. Loren cusses under her breath as she watches, and this time, I’m the one to blush. She takes off her sweater and tank top, leaving her bra for me remove.

  It’s been so long; I wonder if I remember how to even undo a bra. Thankfully, I notice that Loren’s fastens in the front, so I don’t have to feel around too
much, torturing both of us in the process. With one small click, I’m able to slowly peel away the sheer fabric covering her beautiful breasts.

  Just like riding a bicycle, thank heavens.

  My fingers trail over her delicate skin, marveling at how it pebbles at my touch.

  “Touch me, please,” she says softly. It’s all the permission I need. Leaning forward, I wrap my lips around one of her peaked nipples, sucking it into my mouth and swirling my tongue around it. Loren’s hands go to my back as she searches for purchase, anything to hold onto as her body begins to writhe beneath me.

  I used to be an ass-man, but not anymore. Now, I’m all about Loren’s amazing boobs. They’re fucking perfection.

  She pulls my face back up to hers, and kisses the hell out of me. Before I realize what’s happening, I’m on my back and her hand’s on my zipper. My dick is so hard; I think it might be trying to help her pull the zipper down.

  Her soft hand gently strokes me beneath my boxers and it’s incredible, so incredible that I need to distract myself; otherwise, it’ll be over for me way too soon.

  I roll Loren back over and pull her jeans and panties off in one quick motion. She’s perfect, so perfect that I forget how to breathe. Looking up at her, I silently ask for permission. The look in her eyes tells me everything I need to know—she wants this, she wants me. Slipping my finger between her folds, I find her swollen and wet. I brush over her clit and then lean down to mimic the action with my tongue on her nipple.

  Loren rolls onto her side, and at first I’m worried I’ve done something wrong, but when I realize it’s so she can reach my cock, I’m relieved and turned the fuck on. Angling my body closer to hers, she strokes my cock while I slide one, then two fingers inside her. My senses are on overload, and I struggle with concentrating on everything that’s happening. I must be doing okay, though, because the sounds coming out of Loren’s mouth are only words of adoration and praise, making my dick impossibly hard. Soon, I feel her walls begin to tighten around my fingers, her whole body tensing as I increase the pace, and then I watch her come.