Falling In

by Hopkins, Andrea

  We had just moved his stuff into my apartment. Everything was still in boxes, including his bear, which I had unknowingly left in the car. We searched for hours, Ben in tears, almost hyperventilating with grief. The bear was a gift from his parents for his second birthday. He hasn’t let go of it since, even more so after they passed away. Eventually, I decided to check the car, retrieving the prized bear. I don’t think I have ever felt so relieved than on that day. I can see the indecision in his eyes now, not sure if it would be cool to bring a teddy bear. Evangeline notices, too, because she picks up the bear.

  “Who is this super awesome bear, Ben? I’m seriously digging his bowtie!”

  Ben’s eyes light up a fraction. “His name is Fuzz. My mom and dad gave him to me when I was a little kid.”

  “Well, aren’t you going to pack him? When we get to my house, I’ll show you Cady and Dyl’s stuffed animals. Dyl has this ginormous lion named Roar that he sleeps with every night.”

  “Really? Dylan sleeps with stuffed animals, too?” he asks, not quite believing it but smiling hugely nonetheless.

  “Of course he does. And guess what?” She leans in and whispers something into his ear, his face transforming into a look of surprise.

  “You sleep with a stuffed animal, too? But you’re a grown up!”

  “Yes, I am a grown up. But when I was a little girl, my mom gave me a stuffed bear just like yours, only less dapper. She told me to never let him go, because he would protect me when she couldn’t be there to do the same. She died when I was six, too.” Evangeline says, with a sadness that I can tell still runs deep. I know the feeling. My own sorrow from losing my family still lingers inside me. I look down at her, and when our eyes meet, I try to convey my understanding. She gives me small smile.

  “Okay, I think I will pack Fuzz. Just in case.” Ben says, taking the bear from Evangeline’s delicate hands and putting it inside his backpack.

  “Good thinking, little dude.” Evangeline says, smiling brightly at Ben. They finish gathering up random things Ben insists on bringing and finally, after another five minutes, they’re ready to go. We walk silently down the stairs and out onto the porch, Ben holding Evangeline’s hand tightly in his. We pause there, the air thick with awkwardness and unspoken words. I try to read her thoughts, to decipher what she’s feeling right now, but come up empty.

  “Evangeline,” I all but breathe out, not sure what the hell I’m going to say next. I go to tuck a loose tendril behind her ear, but stop midair from the uneasy look on her face. She takes a step back.

  “I’ll bring Ben over tomorrow mid-morning, unless you stay out. Then you could just text me when you get back. Have fun tonight.”

  Before I can say anything, Ben runs over and gives me a big hug. Realizing this will be the first night I’ve spent without him since my sister died, I hold him tightly, breathing him in.

  “I love you, Uncle Jake.”

  “I love you too, buddy. Be good for Evangeline, and have fun. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” I let him go and watch him grab ahold of Evangeline’s hand again. They turn around and walk next door, without a glance back.

  When I see them enter and close her door, I let a big breath out, feeling more and more uncertain about this stupid date the closer it gets. But I don’t want to be a dick and cancel at the last second. And to be completely honest, I really need to get laid, and maybe just maybe get rid of this thing I have for my Evangeline. Shit, not ‘my.’ Just Evangeline. She isn’t mine, and I don’t think she will ever be, no matter how much I want it to be true or how much she does. She was right. It’s best if this stops now before anyone gets hurt.

  Fuuuuuck, this sucks.

  I walk back inside the house and am hit instantly with this overwhelmingly empty feeling. The house is so quiet and cold. I don’t think I even remember how it feels to be without Ben anymore. I slowly walk upstairs, having lost that tiny bit of determination I had a moment ago. I strip off my clothes piece by piece and hop in the shower. Grabbing my body wash, I start scrubbing, and like every day since the first day I saw her, my thoughts go to Evangeline and my dick instantly goes hard. I don’t even have to try to think about her anymore—it just happens. She’s always there. I try to push her out but she doesn’t want to leave, and my dick doesn’t want her to leave, either. So I give in, pumping so fast that I think I might injure myself. I come in minutes, panting heavily into the steamy shower while my heart beats out of my chest.

  Damn.

  I finish washing up, rinse, then grab a towel and dry off. Wrapping the towel around my waist, I sit on the bed and take a moment. I need a minute before I start this charade—date—whatever it is. I just need to keep reminding myself that Becky is crazy hot, and she wants me. Only me. No almost husbands around. Just me. And I can have all of her, even if it’s just for tonight.

  Even if she isn’t the one I want.

  All right, let’s fucking do this thing.

  ***

  Two hours later, I’m pulling into Becky’s driveway. I get out and take in her house before knocking. It’s a huge, two-story vintage home, most likely built in the early 1900s. It’s beautiful with its intricate moldings, bay windows, and a huge balcony. I wonder if Evangeline has ever been here. She would love this house.

  After a few more minutes of ogling, I finally raise my hand to the door. Becky answers almost immediately, revealing herself in a dress that is so tight, I’m highly doubtful that she can breathe in. Her tits are pushed up, barely contained, and her ass is a couple centimeters shy of making a public appearance. She’s any man’s fantasy, a walking hard-on, but for some insane reason, I find myself wishing she were wearing a long hippie skirt and a tank top. I shake it off and give her that smile that seems to never fail me. It’s the dimples. And, like clockwork, she melts right there in the doorway.

  “You look beautiful,” I greet her with as much sincerity as I can muster. She seems to buy it, if the rosy cheeks and coy smile are indicators.

  “Thank you. You look mighty fine yourself,” she practically purrs.

  I reach out to take her hand, and she gives me a lingering peck on my cheek that leaves me feeling—nothing. No tingles. No electric shock. No racing heart.

  After she locks her door, we walk silently to the car. I open the door for her and she slides in, saying something about how hot my car is. Which it is: a black 1969 Chevrolet Camaro with two red racing stripes on the hood, all black interior, and a badass matching red booster seat with flames in the backseat.

  “So, where are we going?” Becky asks, turning in her seat while moving her hand up and down my thigh.

  “The Firehouse Restaurant. Evangeline told me about it when I first moved here, and it’s been on my mind ever since. She said she’s eaten most of the menu, and didn’t have a bad thing to say,” I babble squirming a bit at her touch.

  “Oh God, Italian food? I’m going to gain like ten pounds just looking at it! I don’t know how she could eat there. But then again, have you seen her ass? She’s like the lesbian lovechild of Kim Kardashian and J-Lo.” She giggles like a hyena, making me cringe. But when she notices that I’m not laughing with her, she stops immediately.

  “I happen to love a woman who can eat, and find Evangeline’s curves beautiful.”

  Shit. I wince. I shouldn’t have said that last part, but I couldn’t stand hearing someone disrespect Evangeline, especially a woman who pales in comparison. Becky looks at me for a long moment before replying.

  “You’re right. She is beautiful. I don’t know why I said that. Nervous, I guess.” She says actually looking sincere and regretful.

  I wave it off, which seems to appease her because she goes right back to massaging my thigh. She doesn’t stop for a breath before going into a twenty-minute spiel about Pilates and what it’s done for her body. She’s got me on that one, ‘cause her body is tight. Although, while I usually prefer a bit more thickness, I can still appreciate what she’s got going on. And hopefully I get to
see it in action later; the semi I’m sporting from her incessant touch is counting on it.

  Becky dominates the dinner conversation for most of the night. I’m trying. I really am trying to participate and follow along, but I can’t stop wondering what Evangeline and Ben are doing, and if he’s having fun—which I’d bet my life that he is, because he’s with her. Lucky bastard. I knock back my second glass of wine towards the end of her ramble. Damn, I should probably switch to water if I’m going to drive home. Finally, the Evangeline-induced fog lifts when I feel Becky’s foot graze my crotch. I look up to find her looking at me with lust in her eyes.

  “I’m not hungry for food anymore. This obviously isn’t a love connection, seeing as you haven’t said more than ten words since we got here.” She continues to torture my now hardening dick. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t still have some fun. I want you, and I’m pretty sure you want me.” She declares with a perceptive smirk. “So let’s just get out of here, go back to my place, and you can fuck away whatever is on your mind right now.”

  Well, fuck me.

  Surprised by her candid words, I just stare at her for a moment before shaking my head and grabbing my glass of water, chugging it down in seconds. “Let’s go.” I say after I stand up, grab her hand, and lead her out the door.

  It’s dead silent on the drive to her house. No inane ramblings or insults to the woman that I am trying my damnedest to forget at the moment. All that can be heard is the sound of our breathing in anticipation of what is about to come—hopefully, more than once.

  I make it back to Becky’s house in half the time it took to get to the restaurant. She doesn’t wait for me to get out. I hesitate for a brief moment before jumping out and following her up the walkway. Once we reach the door, she fumbles with the keys, but recovers quickly. She holds open the door for me, and our gazes lock as I brush past her. The air is thick with sexual tension. She grabs my hand, stopping me from heading to the couch, and pulls me toward her and against the closed door. Her mouth is on mine a second later. Becky licks my bottom lip, silently asking for entrance—to which I comply hesitantly, not quite wanting to share something so close and intimate.

  Jesus, I’m fucking Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman all of a sudden.

  When I finally do let her in, she tastes like red wine and the mint she popped in her mouth on the drive here. I pull away from her mouth and quickly turn her around so she’s now pushed up against the door. Then I place kisses down her neck and throat, nipping and sucking. She moans in my ear as I press my hard-on against her lower belly.

  “Oh God, Jake. Fuck me, please.” She whimpers in my ear before tugging my lobe with her teeth.

  With a groan, I pull down her dress and bra straps, exposing her nice but fake tits. I picture Evangeline’s natural handful as I suck on a nipple while massaging the other breast, then switch. Becky grips my hair so tightly it hurts. I release her nipple with a pop and travel down, pulling her dress up to her waist. I rip her poor excuse for panties away and spread her legs apart. She’s completely bare. I imagine Evangeline having dark curls, not too full, but enough to show me that she’s a woman.

  I lick the crease of her lips once. Twice. A third time, before lifting one leg up over my shoulder and diving in, eating her out like she’s my favorite dessert. Her loud moans and screams fill the room. She thrusts in my mouth and pulls my head further into her heat. It’s not long before her clit pulses and her body convulses in my mouth. I don’t give her time to recuperate before I stand and pick her up, taking her over to the couch. I set her down, and then flip her around so that her back is to me. She sticks her ass in the air and grabs onto the back of the couch. She clearly knows what’s up. I grab a condom from my wallet, unbuckle my belt, and pull down my jeans and boxer briefs to my ankles. With one hand, I roll the condom on my throbbing dick, while the other hand is busy rubbing her clit.

  “I’m going to fuck you now, rough and hard. Tell me if I’m hurting you, and I’ll stop, okay?” I warn her while I run my dick up and down her ass.

  “Okay, just do it. Now.” She says ‘now’ on a moan as I enter her from behind.

  “Shiiiiit.” That feels good. I close my eyes and she’s there. I don’t see blonde hair and a pale back. No, I see wild brown curls and olive skin, decorated with the perfect dusting of freckles.

  I move fast and hard, pumping into Becky like I’m afraid she’ll disappear—but it’s not her I’m afraid of losing. I circle her clit relentlessly and meticulously while ramming into her repeatedly, making her cry out my name over and over as she comes for a second time. Her walls clamp down on my dick so tight, I come a moment later, screaming her name.

  At least I think I said her name.

  Fuck.

  I didn’t.

  “Did you just call me Evangeline?” she asks, looking over her shoulder in disbelief.

  I did.

  “Shit. Becky. I—” I trail off, not knowing what the fuck to say. I pull out of her and sit down.

  “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe I didn’t see it. The way you looked at her at the party. And Jesus, the hurt and confusion in her eyes when I told her you’d asked me out. Are you guys having an affair? Oh my God!” she exclaims, covering her mouth and looking horrified.

  “No! No, we’re not having anything. She hasn’t done anything. And neither have I. Nor will we ever, okay? It’s a simple crush. Infatuation. Wanting something you can’t have or whatever. Okay? Please don’t say anything. It’s honestly nothing.” I pray that I sound convincing enough. I can’t let word get out about this. Evangeline doesn’t need or deserve rumors spread about her, nor does her family. Especially when they aren’t even true.

  “But you do like her? I mean, obviously you do, if you’re picturing yourself fucking her while you’re fucking me.”

  “Fuck, I’m sorry, Becky. That was shitty as hell. You were amazing. Really.” She looks away, ego clearly bruised. Shit, I’m an asshole. I turn her face back toward me. “Honestly, you were great. I’m just messed up in the head right now. I do—like her. A lot. But it’ll never happen, because she has Cole and they’re, you know— ”

  “Perfect.” She provides, rolling her eyes.

  I laugh. “Yeah, and with a perfect family and a perfect life. I’d be an even bigger asshole than I already am if I fuck that up for her. As much as I want to, I just can’t, which is where you came in. It doesn’t mean I didn’t want you though, because I did. Look at you. I just can’t get her out of my head.”

  “You think I could get another shot at it?” she asks as she stands up, pushing her clothes down her body until they hit the floor. She steps out of them, kicking them away, baring her naked body to me. My dick goes hard again at the sight. Her eyes lower, and she licks her lips seductively. She kneels down in front of me, pushing my legs apart, and with her eyes never leaving mine, she takes off the condom, ties it, and tosses it aside. Then she dips her head down, licking my cock like a Popsicle, sucking any leftover come she can find clean off of it. After she gets every last drop, she grabs ahold of my cock, places the head inside her warm mouth, and slowly moves down until I hit her tonsils, then comes back up again. She continues this slow torture while working my balls in one hand. I come hard in her mouth before too long, grasping her hair. I didn’t say Evangeline’s name this time, but I didn’t scream out Becky’s, either.

  Yeah, I’m all kinds of fucked.

  After my happy ending, we get dressed, and we end up talking for another two hours. She actually isn’t a daft as I thought she was. She told me about her divorce, while I filled her in more about this thing with Evangeline. She was surprisingly non-judgmental, and promised not to say anything, which was a relief. It’s still pretty early, about ten o’clock, when I decide it’s time to go. I give her a kiss on the cheek and say goodbye, telling her I will call her again soon as I open the door to leave. After I walk through the doorway, she stops me.

  “Hey, Jake!” I turn around. “Abou
t this thing with Evie—be careful, okay? No matter what the outcome, someone is bound to get hurt. Be prepared for that someone to be you.”

  I nod once before turning back around and getting into my car. I put the keys into the ignition and start it up. The Black Keys’ soulful sound replaces the silence, and I head back home.

  Back to her.

  ***

  Evangeline

  I wanted to tell him not to go. That was one reason why I went over there early. I imagined this whole scenario of us taking the kids to get ice cream together, playing board games, and then after they went to bed, we’d stay up and talk and drink wine and just go from there. But once he opened that door, that dream faded pretty quickly. I had no right to ask him to cancel. And then there was the obvious issue—Cole. How messed up in the head am I right now? He goes away for one night kicking ass at coaching baseball, and I’m thinking of having another man over.

  Jesus.

  So after all of that logical thinking I did earlier, why the hell am I outside, pacing back and forth with my third glass of Merlot, waiting to see if Jake will pull up to his house?

  I blame the wine.

  As each hour passes, I get more and more worked up. It’s 10:30. The kids have been asleep for over two hours. Maybe he’s not coming home tonight. Goodness, of course he isn’t—he’s with Becky Lewis, for fuck’s sake. What was I thinking, not asking him to stay? I don’t care anymore that he isn’t mine. He shouldn’t be hers, or anyone else’s, either. Yes, I know I’m being beyond unfair and completely irrational. But that’s what three and a half glasses of wine will do to a girl. All this pacing is starting to make my head spin.

  I sit down on the porch and down the last half of my wine. Okay, ten minutes. I’m going to wait ten more minutes, then call it quits.

  It only takes five minutes to pass by before I see Jake’s car pulling into his driveway. I let out a huge sigh of relief that he didn’t stay over. But my fists are still clenched at my sides as my mind, body, and all of the alcohol that is swimming in it thrum with frustration, screaming at me, telling me that he slept with her. I stand up and lean against the beam for support, watching him get out of that sexy ass car. He obviously saw me sitting here when he pulled in, so he walks over to me slowly, cautiously. Uncertain. He stops before the bottom step.