by M. C. Cerny
“Hey.” He said with a rough morning voice that reminded me of sex and sin, something I missed with him. I handed him a coffee.
“Hey, thanks for staying.” I let my fingertip trace the rim of the paper cup feeling uncertain of where we stood with each other because at some point in the night, my anger had dissipated.
“Yeah, no problem.” He took a sip of the coffee and got up to leave.
“You’re going?”
“I need to take care of a few things. I’ll see you around.” With that, I watched him walk out of the hospital and I plunked my sore butt on his newly vacated chair wondering where the heck to go from here.
He was my best friend, but the constant reminders did more than keep me in place. They told me I might be fighting a losing battle for his heart. How could he have left things that way after the drive-in? Just like that, the man I thought was finally opening up to me shut the door and cut off all communication. He wouldn’t return my phone calls or text messages and would only come to the project house if I wasn’t alone. All of a sudden he no longer trusted himself with me.
* * * * *
“I don’t know what to do. It’s a mess and I feel like I’ve ruined years of our friendship, for what? Some hot sex and a flipped house? Seems trite to me.”
Kristen and I were commiserating over drinks at Easton’s pub. I didn’t want to go far and this was better than trying to hide my feelings from my dad.
“Why would Hunter have pictures of us on his phone? Okay, well, more like pictures of you, but Damien sent them all because he’s a damn pervert.”
“What?” This was new. I never heard this before. “How do you even know this? Or should I not be asking you?”
“Yeah, when I stole Demon’s phone, I saw all those picture messages he sent. He must have deleted the photos. Well, the ones of you, but the messages were all there. Ass shots too.”
We looked at each other and started laughing.
“Oh my God. Can you imagine Hunter’s reaction?”
“Homicidal maybe?”
“Most definitely. Taylor, I think he really cares about you and he had no clue how to handle that situation.”
“I don’t know. I mean, all these years? You think so?”
“I know so. Hunter is the serious one. Demon, well, I’m shocked he’s lived as long as he has given his special personality.”
“Be nice.”
“I am being nice, that’s just the truth.” Tonight we opted for beer instead of mixed drinks and we both peeled the labels off the bottles.
“So what do you propose I do? Hunter can’t seem to get over what happened and I only know some of the details.”
“It was a car accident right, and they died?”
“Yes, but his dad was abusive long before that and kept Hunter and his mom isolated from their family for years.”
“And him exploding at the drive-in was bad because?”
“Kristen, he beat those guys up. I’m not going to say they were innocent. They certainly had it coming, but he was, he was a little scary.”
“Scary bad or scary hero?”
I thought about what Kristen was saying. I loved Hunter, I think I always had and I didn’t want this to be the thing that tore us apart, but it would if he continued to not communicate with me.
“I got over being scared quickly and I was never afraid of him. It was when he pushed me away emotionally and shut down that I couldn’t deal with him.” It felt like he jumped ship and left me there to drown. I needed him and he left me.
“If you were me, and we both know you’re not, I would go after him, demand to know what’s going on, get an answer. Tie his ass down and refuse him the basic necessities until he talked.”
“So you want me to deny him food, water, and shelter. Seems extreme, don’t you think?”
Kristen had the market on being extreme.
“Heck no, deny him sex and a blow job. Works for me.” Kristen winked, and I knew she probably used this tactic before on some poor unsuspecting soul and really, I didn’t want to know the details–ever.
“Great in theory, but since I’m me and you’re you?”
“I’d just go over to his house naked and bang his brains out.”
“Yeah, no.”
“And speaking of the devil…”
I turned expecting Damien to be here, but he wasn’t. It was Hunter and he was walking toward me with a purpose. His face looked tired and I wanted to hug him and hold him close, but we were nowhere near anything like that. His flannel shirt was open over a white button Henley shirt in a waffle print. He wore dark denim jeans and boots. I didn’t think I ever thought a waffle print was sexy before this, but it was extremely sexy. I wanted my Hunter back.
“Can I… borrow you for a moment?” He held out his hand, and I was shocked. After days of no communication, Hunter wanting to take me by the hand was a surprise, albeit a good one, but still a surprise.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Come with me, please.”
I followed behind Hunter, tugged outside as he led me to his truck and held the door open. I got in, and he started driving toward the flip.
“Hunter, I haven’t seen or talked to you in days.”
“I’m an idiot. Forgive me?”
“Just like that?”
“Yeah, please.”
“No. Actually, let me out of the truck now.” I was pissed. Did he really think I’d let it all go, forgive and go back to what we were before? I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t do it.
“I’m sorry, but I’m taking you to the house.”
“Well, I don’t want to go.”
“Then I’m collecting my wish.”
“What? No. When was this?”
“The night you slept in my bed drunk as skunk. You might not recall it, but I do, fondly actually.”
“A gentleman wouldn’t remind a girl when she was indisposed.”
“What is this? The 1960s, sorry sweetheart, I hate to break it to you, but I’m not a nice guy.” He looked over at me while maintaining he truck on the road driving across town to the house. I wasn’t in the mood to jump out.
“Explain to me why? What happened after the drive-in and no bullshit because that’s Damien’s territory.”
“I screwed up, Taylor Jane. I made choices that could have hurt and scared you. Heck, they scared me. I behaved like an animal. I learned it by watching my dad be that way and I made the same mistake he did.”
“I’ll agree you screwed up, but what happened, Hunter? Those guys had something coming based on how rude and awful they were as human beings.”
“But I should have done better whether they deserved it or not. I should have never behaved in a way that would make you question my integrity toward you.”
“Your dad was a bully?”
“He was an abusive asshole, and I shouldn’t say this, but I’m glad he’s gone because there wasn’t a single thing he did right in this world.”
“Well, he gave me you.” I held his hand, and we remained quiet inside the truck. We had a lot of ground to cover to make this relationship work and putting the past to bed was as good as any for a start.
“Thank you.”
“Hunter, you have to talk to me when you feel this way. It can’t be good to carry around this kind of burden all the time. I’m here for you. I’m not going to let this go.” He squeezed my hand gently before letting go.
“I didn’t expect you would let it go.” He let out a deep breath, but I wasn’t going to drop this conversation. “We’re here. I want to show you something.” He stopped the truck in the driveway and came over to help me out.
Our conversation was tabled for another time. I didn’t think I could have borne living in the same town without contact from my best friend.
32
Hunter
She was looking at me, a frown on her face. Maybe I overstepped some boundary or rule I didn’t know about. Despite my past, I wasn’t the one good with girls
and relationships because I just didn’t do them.
“Hunter, what is this?” Tentatively, she made her way up the steps, stairs that Damien helped me fixed so no one would fall and break their ankle walking up. Her hand reached for the railing, a shake to her arm while her fingers gripped the banister. I was nervous as hell she was going to dislike this gift of mine.
“I just thought, I thought that every house needed a good rocking chair on the porch. That’s all. And even if you don’t keep the house, you’ll always have the rockers to take with you.” I let my hand cup the back of my neck and ran my fingers through my short hair, waiting for a reaction from Taylor Jane.
She looked up at me for a second and then rushed over to the chair, kneeling on the porch, her hands gently caressing the wood I’d spent the better part of my weeknights sanding and finishing so it was just the right color and smoothness, matching the wood of the porch. Her back was to me now and I couldn’t tell if she was crying happy tears or sad ones.
“Oh, Hunter….”
I reached for her and picked her up in my arms. She felt fragile to me cradled in my arms, and I reminded myself she had a backbone of steel in her tiny frame. I plopped down in the chair and gave it a gentle rock to make us sway back and forth. She clutched my shirt and rubbed her nose across my shoulder.
“Do you like it, Taylor Jane?”
“Like it?” She sniffled and raised her head so I could see her pretty face, pale and wide-eyed. “Hunter, it’s perfect. Exactly like my mother’s.” She snuggled back into my arms, and I held her tightly, letting the moment stay with us. I rested my lips against her head of soft hair, breathing her in. Dryness clogged my throat and I had to swallow the lump before I could speak.
“I’m glad you like it.”
“Hunter, I love it.” She leaned back to look at me, and I felt it. That wall cracking and her feelings seeping into mine, making me whole again. She loved the rocking chair, but her eyes said that she loved me, and as absolutely terrifying as that was, it was the best feeling in the world.
That was what Taylor Jane Bryant did to me. It was probably a good thing I kept my latest personal woodworking projects at home in my garage shop. No telling what would happen when she saw those projects. Her left hand was caught between us and rested against my heart, clutching my shirt. Fingertips pressed against me and the contact through my clothing burned with emotions that kept me tangled up in her, refusing to let her go. Her right hand traced the polished wood armrest of the rocking chair. Slowly back and forth her fingers traced the seam of dark wood and I knew I didn’t want to ever let her go. I tried that before and it didn’t end well in a sea of crash and burn one-night stands that vanished from my memory as quickly as they happened and all forgotten. Taylor Jane was the only memory that stuck from the first day of school, to prom, and graduation. I felt like the biggest fucking tool having let her go for the years she was away in college and living on her own. I risked losing her heart to some fucking hipster in Brooklyn and it rotted my stomach like acid.
* * * * *
“So is there only one?” Taylor Jane lay over me, resting her chin on her hands, peeking up from her mass of curly bed hair.
Laughing, I knew exactly what she meant. “I made two actually. There’s a matching glass top table for the set.” Pulling her up so her lips could reach my own, I kissed her soundly.
“How is it we know each other so well and yet waited so long for each other?” Taylor Jane curled her body around mine, and I rubbed my hand down the soft skin of her back, tracing her spine down to the cleft in her lower back.
“I guess we weren’t ready for what everyone else apparently knew.”
“Magical perfection,” we said together on a cheesy, happy, lovesick sigh.
“Look at us. I bet we could totally gross out Kristen and Damien with some good old-fashioned PDA next time we see them.”
“Damn right we will. Those two… geez. Do you think they will ever get together?”
Sarcasm laced my response. “What, and ruin their deep-seated hate they’ve been brewing for over a decade?”
“Well, that’s a pretty long-term commitment even if it’s the polar opposite of love.”
“Stranger things have happened.” Kissing the top of Taylor Jane’s head, I sat up slowly and moved back against the headboard, guiding her up with me. I positioned her legs over mine and eased her down over my cock that had been reaching for her since early morning. The tip of my thick shaft beaded with pre-cum, eager to sink home between her thighs.
“I think those two might kill each other first.” She eased herself down over me and the fit was tight even with our combined wetness lubricating her body to fit mine.
I pushed up against her and placed her hands on the headboard behind me, letting her ride me. I eased into her, rolling my hips, and her eyes closed just so as she bit her lip, holding back a moan I wanted to hear echo off the walls of the room.
“Can we please stop talking about them now?” I thrust my hips, seating myself deep inside her.
Tossing her head back moaning, I used the opportunity to kiss her breasts, sucking on each nipple with a teasing bite.
“Okay,” she whimpered.
We had amazing friends, but frankly I didn’t think they had any place in our bedroom even conversationally. Taylor Jane met me thrust for thrust, her gorgeous lips parted open, and she let out a sound of satisfaction that made me smile. I loved knowing I brought her to this place and that it was me making her feel this way.
* * * * *
It was the final day of the film crew shooting around the house and Taylor Jane nervously fluffed pillows from Kristen’s aunt’s antique shop. Spindly chairs that matched the stair railings I reconstructed and Taylor Jane painted in matching wood finished with teal-colored trim decorated the space. Small glass vases in purples and reds filled with pink and orange wildflowers lined the new screened in window of the kitchen. No fucking birds of prey to deal with there. Whittaker’s interesting and new friend Lia was taking photographs of the light pouring in from the southern exposure and everything was nearly perfect.
Perfect would be everyone getting out of the house so I could christen another empty bedroom or take Taylor Jane in the Jacuzzi tub I got Damien to refurbish under the back porch. As it was, I was nervous as hell for her and she was putting on a good face, smiling and wearing the cutest pair of cut off overalls I’d ever seen. Her tool belt held a hammer and a tape measure in pink, a gift from Kristen but something she made honest use of during our weeks on the project. If Taylor Jane won the house flipping contest it would have her packing and leaving again. I didn’t want that, but I did want good things, the very best of things for her. I vowed to find a way to make it all work.
“So everything is all set and the crew said they got everything they needed to cut the video.” She stepped next to me, and I grabbed her hand, squeezing it to reassure her. Pulling her close so I kissed the top of her blond head, she rested against me. The hammer poked my side and I wouldn’t trade the pain for anything in the world.
“It’s perfect,” I told her the lie brightly, catching the choke in my words. It was perfect and that wasn’t the lie, but keeping the truth of wanting her to stay here with me was.
“I love this house. I kind of don’t want to sell it.” Tears brightened her eyes and I knew what she meant. I’d already called the realtor to buy it. Taylor Jane didn’t have a clue, but she was about to get one hell of an offer and my entire life savings short of the construction company. I was going to give her the house and let the cards fall where they may.
“Well, we can always tell them the place is haunted.” I was only half kidding when I told her this.
“Hunter!” She hit me in the chest, and I held her in my arms, relishing how this all felt because there was every possibility it’d be the last time I got to have her this way.
Please, God… I prayed in one rare plea, don’t let her go. I wasn’t religious in the least, not e
ven on the major holidays for anything. The house brought us together, brought us closer, and it was more than closure or simple sadness at the end of the project. Clenching my fists, I spoke in my head, letting my voice make that bargain with my higher spiritual being to give me this one precious thing I could honor for the rest of my days on this planet. I offered to keep Damien alive and stop bickering with him if I could have Taylor Jane by my side of her own choosing. I’d lost my parents and part of myself as a kid. Just please give me this one thing and I’ll never ask again.
“Feels like Mom is here with us.”
We both glanced into the kitchen and out the window over the sink where several carved animals and a few new dragons sat, keeping guard.
“I guess it’s in God’s hands now. Let’s go get some breakfast.” I pulled her from the house, and we locked up.
Taylor Jane took the ‘for sale sign’ from the porch and pushed it down into the fresh sod grass Whittaker had laid down a week earlier. I planned to rip the sign up later once the check cleared. Getting into my truck, we headed to the diner.
33
Taylor Jane
Nervously I awaited the phone call that had the potential to change the rest of my life. Hunter was in the kitchen, making fried eggs and bacon. Coffee drifted into the bedroom, followed by his shirtless form. I loved Hunter with everything in my soul and I wasn’t sure I could leave him even temporarily if I won the house flip. He’d come to mean so much to me.
“Now what is that sad face for?” He sat on the bed next to me, handing me a cup of coffee just the way I liked it.
“I was thinking about the house and the contest.”
“Nothing to worry about. The realtor called and said you had a buyer snatch it up at above market value.” He coughed with a smile, genuinely happy for me, but I was having a hard time feeling it.