Caught in the Middle

by Kira Barker

  And looking into his eyes, seeing unspoken emotions roiling in them, I saw that I wasn’t the only one acutely aware of how things were shifting between us, but try as I might be hunting for it, doubt wasn’t what I recognized in his gaze.

  Like so often of late, I chose to let him lead me along and quenched my own need to second-guess what was going on, and just act.

  Leaning into him, one hand at his shoulder, the other at his side, was all the invitation he needed. Simon pulled me close, his touch still light and gentle, one hand cradling the side of my face. My eyes closed as he brushed his lips to mine in a slow kiss that deepened as I let him in, then molded myself more firmly against him. There was so much familiarity there that it was easy to ignore the war slowly subsiding inside my mind, to push it all away, let sensation take over. And judging from the way he pressed feather-light kisses onto my skin before his hands tightened on me almost reverently, it made me realize that I wasn’t the only one feeling this, either.

  Stopping for a moment, I smiled down at him, not sure how much of the warm feeling spreading throughout me showed with my eyes puffy and not quite dry yet, but Simon was quick to grin back, letting his forehead touch mine lightly. My smile widened, and then I was kissing him again, a little less tentatively than before, a little more demanding. His hands tightened on me, then ran up my back to pull me closer, his tongue giving way reluctantly until he felt me explore his mouth with new eagerness.

  We spent more time on the couch just kissing and touching than some of our scenes had lasted, locked in a game of stop and go, give and take, tease and withdraw. I still felt vulnerable, fragile even, but whenever I was about to falter, he picked up the slack, coaxing me back from the still-threatening abyss of grief. Then it was me who pushed him deeper into the cushions, taking what he so freely offered, always demanding more.

  Time passed, but I didn’t really notice beyond my lips becoming puffy and swollen from kissing him as if my life depended on it. I knew every line of his body by now, the same as he was intimately familiar with mine, but exploring now with tentative touches and languid strokes was different. And for whatever stupid reason, running a hand across his lower abdomen underneath his shirt, feeling warm skin and taut muscle, was tantalizing, different somehow.

  And then it simply wasn’t enough anymore, and it only took a brief exchange of looks before he got up and pulled me along, back to his room, into his bed. I’d slept in that very bed a couple of times, but we’d never had sex in it, and when I lay back and he started to push my shirt up my stomach, I realized that we’d never undressed each other, either. That thought must have made me frown because Simon stopped in mid-motion, hovering beside me.

  “Something wrong?”

  I shook my head and reached up to pull him close, letting my own fingers skim over the waistband of his pants.

  “Not at all.”

  Whatever he saw on my face made him smile, then lean in to steal my breath with his lips. That was the last we spoke for a long, long time, and neither of us seemed to miss words.

  Once he had me naked next to him, Simon made as if to kiss a trail down my body, starting at my collarbones, but I stopped him before he’d even gotten to my breasts. I knew well enough what he was capable of, and as much as I normally would have loved to feel his mouth on me, that just wasn’t what I needed right now. Nudging his chin up, I shimmied alongside him until we were face to face again, and when I wrapped myself pretty much around his body and kissed him, he was eager to reciprocate, one strong hand pulling me flush against him.

  Before long, both of us were moving against each other, slow at first, more frantic later, but always touching, maximizing contact. My lips were tingling from kissing him, and I felt like the skin on my entire body was on fire from being so close to him. We barely made any sounds besides the occasional moan that was really more of a sigh, and while I felt warmth and need spread throughout me, it was so different from the usually highly coordinated moves. There was a little teasing, and stopping and readjusting, but most of all I felt like we were slowly melting into each other until it was hard to tell where I began and he ended.

  When I eventually succumbed to my need, it wasn’t just a physical release, but also an emotional one. Instinct had my eyes want to flutter closed, but all the time spent in the attic together made me keep them wide open so I could watch him drink in every second of me writhing in abandonment, then follow along with an almost peaceful look on his face.

  Both panting now, our mouths found each other, and I felt something inside of my chest soar. His eyes were still wide, shining from exertion and satisfaction, but something was different about the way he gazed at me. Deep down I knew I could have pointed a finger at it, but that would have meant another level of complication, and right now I was simply glad to be here with him, closer than ever before, and not have to think about anything.

  So I smiled, and Simon smiled back, and then he rolled us over so that I was mostly lying on him, positioning me just so that I could continue to kiss him without having to crane my neck, and that was exactly what I did.

  Much later, my eyes drifted shut and I relaxed, wrapped in a cocoon of Simon, his body spooning mine, his scent all over me, both of us sweaty and spent, and, most of all, content. Happy.

  After the day I’d had, I hadn’t expected to find any rest, but a few moments later I drifted off, and slept straight through the night, that smile still on my face.

  Chapter 13

  I woke up… alone.

  Soft light was filtering through the half-drawn curtains, early morning light that I was terribly familiar with. Too early for decent people to be up, too late for anyone to still be on their feet. The bed was not my own but still familiar, and not for a second did I doubt where I was.

  Turning my head, I looked over to the other side, finding it empty and cold. For a moment I listened, wondering if Simon had just gotten up to use the bathroom, but the house was completely silent.

  I didn’t want to get up, but as I lay there, a spark of restlessness flared up inside of me that soon had me checking the alarm on the nightstand. My estimate had been correct; I still had about half an hour until I had to get up and leave if I wanted to be on time for my shift.

  Exhaling slowly, I considered not getting up at all. What was the sense of working myself to the bone for a job I now knew I wouldn’t get? And Zoe had told me to call in sick if I wasn’t feeling up to par yet. I could just stay here, wait for Simon to return, and ignore the world at large until the next best thing sucker punched me again.

  Suddenly disgusted with myself, I got up, not bothering with clothes except for my panties and shirt. The door to the hallway was not quite closed, but the entire house was dark, so I made a brief detour to the bathroom before I hit the kitchen. In passing, I noticed that the door to Jack’s room was open, and I could see that his bed was still made and clearly hadn’t been slept in.

  As I turned on the coffee machine, I considered what I should do next.

  One thing was obvious. For the past months, or even years, I’d been single-mindedly focused on just one thing—my career. It was my life, was what I got up for in the morning, what defined me. Almost everyone else my age that I knew had long finished school, built a life, family, home. All I had was the certainty that in nine days from now I would be out of the hospital I’d hoped to return to after my last rotation, because it was the best opportunity for me. And now that option was barred to me. Not because I’d made any mistakes or been bad at what I did, but I’d set all my expectations on that one single goal and ignored that there were other options out there.

  What was even worse was that I felt like I could suddenly see a pattern there. In many ways, my reaction yesterday had been the same. Each and every year I dreaded that anniversary to come, and I always used Jack as my fall-back guy. I had been so sure that this would go on forever that I hadn’t even considered the possibility that some day in the future he wouldn’t be there for me
, for whatever reason.

  But my thoughts stuttered to a halt when it came to Simon. How did what we had going on fit into that? Was it just one more crutch I used as an excuse not to be completely self-reliant? Or was it those very experiences and changes that finally opened my eyes and let me see, if not quite react, to what was going wrong in my life? It was so easy to doubt, to let what Jack had said in that fight drag me down and question every single thing about it. But it stood in stark contrast to last night. How could I demonize the man who had never, not for a single moment, made me second-guess myself or put me down, not even once? Who was caring and sweet, and underneath that all remained the same egotistical bastard that I’d been close with for ages? But when it counted, he was there, and unlike every other person in my life who felt like they had the right to tell me what I should do, he respected my wishes, gave me privacy when I needed it, and caught me when I stumbled.

  And it was fucking four in the morning and I still hadn’t had my coffee, which was way too soon to ramble on like that inside my own head.

  Watching coffee drip into the pot was only so entertaining, so I went over to the fridge to get some milk, and grabbed the bottle of OJ when I saw it sitting, half empty, in the door. Defiance made me drink right from the bottle, because whatever decisions might plague me, deep down I was still a petulant little girl, and the least I could do was spread my girl cooties all over Jack’s groceries.

  I stopped in mid-drink when I heard the door open and close, admitting Simon as he tried to sneak into the kitchen. He stopped in his tracks as he saw me next to the fridge, then straightened and brandished the tote bag he’d been carrying at me.

  “I hope I didn’t wake you. I thought I might as well make myself useful seeing as I couldn’t sleep anymore.”

  I knew the logo of the bakery on the bag, not quite as good as the one by the hospital, but a wonderful upgrade from what I’d seen sitting in the fridge.

  “No, I guess I just got enough sleep. I rarely make it through more than five or six hours at a time.”

  We stared at each other across the kitchen, neither of us knowing what to do. The coffee machine gave a few last gurgling sounds, then silence settled over us, turning the moment even more awkward.

  Simon was the one to break the tension, shaking his head as he laughed softly and put the bag up onto the counter. I relaxed and looked away, then reached up to get two mugs for the coffee. When I turned back around, he was standing right next to me, close but not uncomfortably so. I was still hogging the space right between the fridge and the coffee machine, after all.

  “Hm, orange juice,” he murmured, but instead of reaching for the bottle, he touched the side of my face and kissed me, long, slow, his tongue swirling against mine before he playfully sucked on my bottom lip.

  My mind went blank, but thankfully my body was a little harder to stun, and I wrapped my arms around his neck to keep him right where I wanted him to be. Simon pressed his body into mine, definitely not a casual move, and I was only too happy to trail my hands up his back to divest him of his shirt. Clothes were so overrated.

  And just when we were both light-headed from stealing each other’s breath and about to get to the good stuff, the front door opened again, spilling high, feminine laughter followed by a lower masculine rumble into the kitchen.

  I tensed, but there was warm skin and delicious muscle under my palms while rough denim rubbed over my bare thigh, and the last thing I wanted was to let go. The feeling seemed to be mutual, because Simon’s grip on me tightened, and just when Kara’s laugh cut off as she must have stepped into the kitchen, Simon let out the most delectable moan.

  Someone cleared their throat noisily, Jack most likely, and Kara let out a very pointed snort.

  “Now look into my face and tell me that you’re not screwing. I dare you to lie to me again.”

  Simon stilled, then sighed as he moved away, but only enough to look deep into my eyes and share a small smile with me. It was so easy to grin, even though my hackles were already up.

  Then Simon let go and turned to face Kara, looking terribly at ease, as if they hadn’t just caught us, me without pants and Simon decidedly shirtless.

  “I never actually denied that we were having sex. You were just jumping to the wrong conclusions.”

  Kara narrowed her eyes at him, then glared at me, but she was already fighting a smile of her own.

  “I just don’t get why you were making a secret out of it. You’re not quite what I’d call compatible, but that’s between the two of you and absolutely none of my business.” She then shot a sidelong glance at Jack, who hadn’t said anything yet, and also looked as if he was not concerned by anything happening in front of him. My stomach seized as bile climbed up into my throat, but I quickly put a lid on my resurfacing anger. At least it wasn’t tears I had to fight.

  “Do I even need to bother asking whether you knew about this? I doubt they could even hide it from you if they’d tried.”

  “Hardly,” was all he said, making Kara frown for a second, but she shook it off, clearly satisfied that finally she had uncovered the mystery of who was getting into my pants on a semi-regular basis.

  “Wonderful. This is the perfect opportunity I’ve been waiting for. There’s this new restaurant I’ve been dying to make reservations for, and it just so happens that they have a spot open tonight. Guess we can’t really call it a double date, seeing that we are certainly not dating.” She indicated Jack and herself, then gave Simon and me a shrewd look. “Are you two? Official, I mean. Because if this ends up with some lovey-dovey shit going down, I’m not subjecting myself to that.”

  I looked at Simon questioningly and was surprised that I got a rather guarded look back from him. Jack snorted in the background, which pissed me off even more, and it was strangely satisfying to see Simon’s eyes narrow with annoyance. Petty games, maybe, but it was still a hell of a good feeling to know that I had him firmly in my corner, should this drama unfold as I was afraid it would very soon.

  “We are what we are,” I replied, trying to sound neutral. “Why complicate things by affixing a label to it?”

  Jack didn’t look pleased by how I’d scampered around that possible pothole in the road, but Kara seemed satisfied.

  “Good. The fact that you’re here means you’re working day shift right now? How anyone can ever keep up with that is beyond me. 8 sounds reasonable?”

  I nodded, and she got out her phone, likely to set herself a reminder, but then stilled in mid-motion. When she gazed up, the look on her face was unreadable, and the sidelong glance at Jack wasn’t the friendliest.

  “Why are you even here? With Simon, I mean, and don’t tell me that you’ve been screwing all night. I don’t need to hear that. But yesterday…”

  “Was the anniversary of my mom’s death, yes.”

  It was impossible not to stare a hole into Jack’s skull, and at least he had the decency to look embarrassed. Kara picked up on that, of course, but she only made a face and didn’t ask, which was likely the reason why I managed to remain on my side of the kitchen without feeling the need to get physical.

  “Anyway, I guess that means we’ll see each other tonight? Do you want to share a cab back into the city?”

  I shook my head.

  “Thanks, but I still need to grab a shower and load up on coffee. The train’s fine.”

  Kara shook her head as if I was the crazy one in this, but her eyes lit up at the mention of coffee.

  “I’ve been up all night. Doesn’t change a thing if I’ll add another hour to the tab. Shoo, I’ll fix you a travel mug while you get ready. But, you,” she said, pointing a finger at Simon as she stalked toward the coffee maker, pretending to be annoyed for a second. “You stay here and answer a few questions, mister.”

  I was only too happy to escape the inquisition, grinning at the way Simon winced, and not even Jack’s glower could change anything about that.

  I kind of hated washing Simon’s sc
ent off my body, but I couldn’t very well go to work distracted like this. I wouldn’t have minded him joining me in the shower, either, although the idea of fooling around while Kara and Jack waited in the kitchen creeped me the fuck out. I couldn’t say what was different—it wasn’t just Kara’s presence, and we’d had more than one session in the playroom while Jack was around—but it was probably for the better that they left me to my own devices.

  I half expected the kitchen to still be a cesspool of awkwardness upon my return, but Jack had apparently gone to sleep in the meantime, and Kara pretty much assaulted me with my coffee before she shooed me out the door. I just had time for a slightly bewildered, halfway terrified smile to share with Simon, then we were in the taxi, and I knew that my time was up.

  “You and Simon, huh?” Kara poked the elephant in the room.

  I just stared back at her blankly, then took a sip of my coffee that was hot enough to make me wince.

  “Is that so hard to grasp?”

  “I’m just wondering,” she pointed out, and took a drink from her own mug. Of course she didn’t even smear her lipstick. Typical. “You’re not really the type to just screw around, and he’s not exactly a commitment kind of guy.”

  “But apparently we’ve found a way to make uncomplicated sex work—eureka!”

  The cab driver gave me a look that I ignored.

  “If you say so,” Kara muttered, but it was obvious that she was trying to hide a grin. “At least now I can tell Linda the good news when she asks.”

  That almost made me scald myself with my coffee.

  “Why the fuck would you tell his mother that we’re having sex?”

  Kara’s smile brightened.

  “Oh, don’t worry, it’s not like that. But she worries sometimes. You know, the whole, ‘I raised a beautiful, bright son who has money—why are women not throwing themselves at his feet!?’ spiel. It will be hilarious to watch you try to field the ‘when will you finally make me a happy abuela!’ question.”