I hurried back to my dorm room and cried for three hours, clutching the stuffed dog that he gave me on our fourth date. As I looked around my room, I was overwhelmed by all of the memories surrounding me. Pictures of us together filled my bulletin board. CDs that we listened to while snuggling laid on the trunk next to my bed. Old candles on my desk reminded me of romantic nights spent talking about the future. Eventually I cried myself to sleep, soaking my stuffed dog with tears, wishing I hadn't said a thing.
#
Chapter 6
Dinner (Present Day)
"You look beautiful. Stunning as ever." Mayson's tone was sexy and confident, and not at all like the voice I heard over the phone. The tables had turned. He was here now, sitting at a table at a local Italian restaurant with me, and I was blushing like crazy, my cheeks burning with anticipation and curiosity. I felt like he was reading my mind, knowing how excited I was to be near him again.
"Thanks," I muttered, twirling my finger nervously in my hair.
"Why are you doing that?" Mayson smirked.
"What do you mean?" I was puzzled.
What was I doing?
"You're twirling your hair. I only remember you doing that before big exams or when you had a paper due. Are you nervous to be here with me?" He was flirting with me, so confident. I wanted to punch him right in his smug face for being so damned arrogant.
"Well, yeah...of course I am. I haven't seen you in five years and suddenly you're back in my life."
Mayson was silent. I could tell my words stung.
"I'm just trying to figure out what you're doing here," I answered honestly, pausing before shrugging my shoulders. I've never been one to dance around an issue. I needed to know where I stood in any situation. But it hadn't really given me much luck in the men department, especially with Mayson. Many times I felt that I scared men away by being too direct.
"Well, just relax. I just wanted to reconnect." Mayson took a deep breath and continued, "I've missed you. That smile of yours has haunted me for years. Maybe you can relax a little and let me see it?" He grinned, taking a sip of wine.
"Okay." I smiled reluctantly. "So I've haunted you, huh?"
I flirted, regaining my confidence. He knew exactly what I was doing. Narrowing his eyes, he refilled my wine glass with just enough wine to calm my nerves.
"Well, I didn't want to start the night with a lie," he said, leaning in close. His fingers lightly caressed mine as they rested on the table in front of me. My first instinct was to pull away, but I couldn't do it. My hand felt as if it was glued to the table. I gently responded to his touch by moving my fingers back and forth under his.
We spent the rest of the meal drinking wine and reminiscing about friends, classes and jokes only the two of us could remember. And with every passing minute, I felt myself being pulled back into Mayson. Again, I was all his.
Two hours later, the check was paid and the wine bottle was empty. Mayson called a cab to take us back to my place. We sat close together in the car, his hands lightly caressing the small of my back as I stared out the window, my head on his shoulder. My brain was so fuzzy from the wine and my heart was trying desperately to understand what was happening. Longing for him to touch me further and terrified of what might happen. My mind was conflicted, so turned on and yet so afraid of the morning light.
We arrived at my apartment and walked together to the door. I turned to him and smiled. "Well, this was--" And just like that, his mouth was on mine. His tongue twisted greedily in my mouth, making me melt into the wooden deck below our feet. I turned to unlock my door as Mayson kissed the nape of my neck, pushing my hair aside, making me gasp. His hands ran up and down my back as I struggled with my lock. His breath was hot as he pulled me into his chest. Distracted by his frantic touch, I struggled to twist the key.
Quickly, Mayson reached for the key and twisted it until the door popped open. Slowing down, he walked me into the apartment, locking the door behind us. I was completely swept up in him, swirling in a fit of hormones and desire.
"Where's your bedroom?" he asked, nuzzling into my neck, nibbling gently on my skin.
"This way," I said, guiding him slowly towards my bed. I wanted him. I just wished I could stop the voice in my head that was screaming at me to stop everything.
Daphne, you stupid girl. He's just going to leave again.
Mayson sat on the mattress, pulling me in by my hips. I stood, looking down at him. A small smile crossed his lips as he pushed my hair behind my shoulders and stroked my cheek.
"What are you going to do with me, Sugar?" he asked.
"I don't know," I said.
Nothing. Because you're going to walk away. Now.
"I think you do." His voice was soft, almost a whisper.
Don't do this. He hurt you before. He'll do it again.
I ran my fingers through his hair as he caressed my breast through my silk tank top. Pushing my nerves aside, I lifted the top off my body, dropping it to the floor. He pressed his mouth to my bare skin. His lips were hot and smooth. Mayson's agile fingers skimmed my waist, where he unfastened my skirt, pulling it over my hips. It fell to the floor, looking like a puddle at my feet. I felt exposed at being undressed, but unbelievably turned on.
He doesn't love you. He never did.
"I'm yours," he said. Those two words were all it took to make that voice go away. Pressing Mayson to the bed, I straddled him, kissing his lips, his square chin and the tiny bits of blond stubble coming through his cheeks. His hands tugged on my silk panties and I felt them slip down past my legs, past my feet and onto the bed.
"God, I've wanted you for so long," he said, before slipping his tongue back into my mouth. Tingles ran down my arms and legs.
"Me too," I replied. My breath hitched and I froze in place, looking down into his eyes. They were reassuring and gentle. And I felt safe.
Slowly, he rolled me to my back as I tugged at his jeans. A satisfied smile crossed his lips as he eased them off his body. Extending my arm, I grabbed a condom from the unopened box in my nightstand drawer and handed it to him.
"Are you sure?" he asked. "Because I want you to be sure."
"Yes. I am."
The foil ripped and Mayson eased the condom on before gliding his fingers down my inner thighs, gently pressing them apart. He entered me and I gasped.
"Daph?"
"It--it's been a while, sorry." Little did he know, it'd been a very long time. Our last time together had been my only time. I hadn't let anyone else into my bedroom, or into my heart since we said our goodbyes years ago.
"I'll go slow," he said, smoothing my hair, pushing it from my forehead. "I promise."
I nodded. With each kiss and each stroke of his hands against my tingling skin, I was immersed in him. The tension was gone, and I was losing myself in his movements. Mayson sensed my relaxing muscles and increased his pace. With my ankles wrapped around his back, he pressed my hands into the mattress as he kissed me hard on the mouth. It was then that the pressure built inside of me, wonderful, yet agonizing pleasure that demanded a release.
Mayson threaded his fingers in mine and rolled to his back, placing me on top of him. Our fingers still threaded together above his head.
"I'm gonna make you come so hard," he said as he thrust his hips into me. He quickened his pace and I matched his movements with my own.
My forehead pressed to his as I found my release, crying out into the humid air. His breath was harsh beneath me as he groaned, taking my mouth in his once again as he climaxed.
Collapsing on his chest, my breathing was ragged but slowly coming back to normal. He stroked my hair as I drifted off to sleep. The soft drum of his heart was the last thing I heard.
The next morning, I woke early to the sound of birds chirping outside my window. The alarm clock read 7:00 am. I rolled over smiling, but found an empty pillow. Mayson was no longer in my bed. Had he left me? How could he do that? Last night was amazing--didn't he agree? And how could
I have been so stupid? Sitting up quickly, I rubbed the hair from my forehead. I tried my best to hold in my tears, but they were threatening to plummet from the corners of my eyes.
Don't do it, Daphne. Do not cry over him, not again.
"Morning," I heard from the hall. Mayson was standing against the door frame, dressed only in his boxer shorts, holding a half eaten banana and a large glass of ice water. Sighing with relief, my pulse started to return to a normal pace.
"Uh oh," he said. "Are you feeling alright? You look pale."
"I'm fine," I mumbled, running my fingers through my hair and yanking the sheet up to conceal my exposed breasts.
"Don't cover up on my account, Sugar. I was enjoying the view." He smiled. The dimple in his left cheek would be my undoing. "Here, I brought you some water. You were pretty drunk last night"
"Thanks." I nodded, genuinely appreciative of the small gesture.
"My head was killing me, so I took some Advil. And I brought a couple for you."
"Again, thanks." I mustered a small, hesitant smile on my lips.
Mayson placed the water in my right hand and the Advil in my left. My sheet slipped down, but my hands were too occupied to fix it. Mayson grinned.
"That's more like it." He chuckled and a small laugh escaped my lips. I was starting to relax; he was still here and taking care of me.
Popping the pills in my mouth, I washed them down with the cold water. I placed the cup on the nightstand and gasped. Mayson was planting small kisses on my shoulder, breathing deeply and caressing my lower back with his hands.
"Mayson," I said, almost as if I was asking a question. But then again, maybe I was.
"Yes?" he murmured between kisses.
"What are we doing?" Never one to go with the flow, I had to know what on earth he was doing here, stroking my skin, nipping my freckles, and being altogether way too charming for my own good.
"Didn't you have a good time last night, Sugar?" He was still kissing me as he asked. Murmuring into my neck, stroking my hair, and caressing his way up to my ears--he knew they were my weaknesses.
"Yes, of course. It was incredible. Just trying to get my bearings, that's all," I said. He pulled away, sat up straight, and looked me in the eye.
"I want to see you again," he said, reaching out to stroke my hair. He twirled several strands in his fingertips as he gazed at me, his green eyes shining in the morning sun. "Is that okay with you?"
I nodded and he smiled.
Mayson seemed genuine, sincere, and looking for my approval of his feelings for me. "I need to get back to campus later today, but I can come up this weekend. And then we can take it from there. At least that's what I'm hoping for."
"That sounds nice." And it did.
#
Chapter 7
Drinks
I had waited three very long, very excruciating days to see Mayson again. Finally, Friday afternoon arrived and he would be here shortly. I'd changed my outfit five times, groaning and rolling my eyes at each wardrobe choice. Nothing seemed good enough. My nerves were getting the best of me as I anxiously waited for him. As always, I was worried about the future. I was worried about the distance between us, worried that this meant something different to him than it did to me. I was trying so hard to stop the worries, but they crept up again and again as I attempted to clean my apartment.
Finally, a car door closed in the small parking lot outside my window. My heart leaped into my throat and I glanced at the clock. It was 7:00pm and he was right on time. I heard him climbing my wooden staircase that led to the back door. I inhaled deeply in an attempt to calm my nerves before opening the door.
I twisted the knob with shaky hands and opened the door with a smile. Mayson had an enormous grin on his face and a large bouquet of stargazer lilies in his hand. He knew they were my favorite flowers.
"Wow, you remembered," I marveled softly.
"Yep." He smiled, obviously proud of himself. "You mentioned it a long time ago. I thought it'd be fun to surprise you."
"They're perfect, Mayson," I said.
After an hours of polite conversation and flirting, we drove down to a local bar for dinner and drinks with Morgan and Matt. Morgan had taken it upon herself to assess our current situation to see if she approved of Mayson's intentions towards me. She and I went to different universities so she had never met him, even though I'd told her so much over the years. With Morgan's determination to keep me safe and happy, this would be an interesting evening.
"So, you're an architect?" Morgan asked before sipping her Long Island Iced Tea, our favorite drink.
"Yep. I love it. It's very fulfilling work," Mayson replied confidently. If Morgan had planned on making him squirm tonight, it didn't seem likely to happen. He rubbed his hand on my thigh as he elaborated on his career. The nerve endings in my leg sprang to life against his fingers; it was exhilarating. I glanced at the clock, hoping that soon the evening would come to an end with my cousin and her boyfriend. I was aching for Mayson's touch, and not just on my thigh.
"Speaking of fulfilling careers, Daphne's seventh graders love her. Has she told you about any of them?"
"Um...her students?" Mayson asked, taken aback. Morgan nodded assertively, raising a lone eyebrow. "Uh no, I don't think they have come up in conversation yet."
"Hmm, that's interesting," Morgan said, nodding and pursing her lips before taking a sip of her drink. The subject needed to be changed as tension started to creep into the space between my cousin and my date. I wanted to kick her under the table, but knew that'd be way too obvious. She'd probably just get pissy and push the conversation further.
"Morgan, let's get another round." Morgan glared at me before standing.
We walked to the bar, arm in arm. "Okay, Morgan, what was that all about back there? Why are you giving him such an attitude?"
"Oh c'mon, Daphne! Of course I'm giving him attitude. You sulked over him for years, and I mean years. He broke your heart. And if you're not going to be protective of your own heart, then I have to be!"
"He means a lot to me, Morgan. If you don't give him a chance..."
"I didn't say I wouldn't come around eventually, Daphne. But he has to give me a reason to like him. You are too wrapped up in him to think clearly. Obviously, I have to do your thinking for you!"
"I wouldn't go that far, Morgan. I know that I should be apprehensive," I said defensively.
"But are you being apprehensive? You look all starry eyed to me. He reached over to touch your leg and you practically swooned!" I looked at her in shock. She saw that? "Yeah, I noticed, Daphne. Just be careful, please."
When we returned to the table, Mayson and Matt were engaged in polite conversation. Clearly, my buddy Matt was attempting to repair the damage his girlfriend might have done. I always knew he was on my side. Morgan slid in next to Matt who wrapped his arms around her. Feeling a bit uneasy, I sat down next to Mayson, waiting for some sort of indication that everything was ok. He kissed me gently on the lips and whispered into my ear.
"You were gone too long. I missed you."
The rest of the evening was more relaxed, aided mostly by the increase of alcohol in our systems. Morgan pulled me on the dance floor and Mayson was happy to watch me as I sang and danced, swiveling my hips to the music. I felt so alive and nothing could spoil it. I gestured for Mayson to join me and he shook his head and mouthed the word "no" with a large smile on his masculine lips. My mouth formed a dramatic pout but I continued dancing with Morgan.
Two more songs came and went as Morgan and I continued to laugh, twist, shake and act like complete fools on the dance floor. I glanced back at the table and saw that Mayson was on his phone, no longer watching us. He seemed upset. His brow was furrowed and he was pressing his hand to his free ear. He walked away from the table to complete his call. Wondering who was on the other end of the line, my thoughts got cloudy and turned dark. The thought of him talking to another woman made me sick to my stomach.
"W
hat's wrong?" Morgan yelled above the music. "Do you need to sit down?"
"No, I'm fine. I think I'm just getting tired."
Moments later, I felt an arm wrap around my waist, his woodsy scent invading my senses as he nuzzled my neck.
"Hey, beautiful girl," Mayson whispered into my ear. Morgan took this as her cue to leave us alone on the dance floor.
"So, you've decided to dance?" I asked as seductively as possible.
"Well, you know I'm not really a dancer, but I couldn't resist how sexy you looked. I had to get out here before someone else beat me to it." He brushed my bangs away from my eyes. "I'm not so good at sharing."
"Me neither," I replied, staring into his eyes. He glanced away briefly and then held my gaze for what felt like minutes. Cupping my chin in his hands, he kissed me passionately.
"Let's go home, Sugar."
"Daphne, wake up." Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I peered at the clock on my nightstand. 5:45 a.m.? Ugh! Why was Mayson awake and fully dressed in my bedroom?
"I have to get back to campus. There's a problem with the plans. They need me back as soon as possible." His tone was dismissive. It reminded me of how he could be when we were still in school. A chill ran down my spine.
"Really? I thought you might stay the weekend." I was surprised that he hadn't mentioned anything earlier. Perhaps this was the phone call he received last night. I guessed that would explain the look of aggravation on his face.
"I know. I wanted that too. I just can't. I'm sorry. I have a few more days on campus and then I'm headed back to Denver. But, I really wish that I could stay here with you." He gazed into my eyes, his tone now sincere and less apprehensive.
"No, I understand. Your project is important. I know it comes first." I tried my very best not to seem too disappointed. This was reminding me so much of our differences back in school: Mayson putting architecture first and me pushing back against his priorities. I was determined to be different this time. After all, this was his career and I had to respect that.
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