Up For Debate (Love and Desire Book 1)

by Devin Sawyer

  “I don’t know. We’d be drinking for starters.”

  I stand and head to the fridge, Lawson pausing for me to return and when I do, I pop off the cap to two Shock Top beers and hand him one. He lifts an eyebrow at me as if to ask if I know what I’m doing.

  “Just one, I have to work tomorrow,” I tell him.

  “Honestly, we usually just shoot the shit. We might play poker.”

  “Do you watch any TV shows?”

  “Not really. Sports are usually on in the background but that’s it,” he says. “Actually, there was this one time in our undergrad when Grant, Finn, and a few other guys used to all get together to watch Entourage and sneak beer into my dorm. We got caught by the RA on like a weekly basis.”

  I laugh at the image of this. “You never told me that story.”

  He laughs too, and this conversation feels fun and friendly, not filled with pressure and tension like I thought it would.

  “I guess it never came up.” He shrugs his shoulders and for a moment he even looks like he did in his college days, carefree.

  That’s something that has been missing from him these past few weeks I’ve been around him again. He’s lost his light-hearted boyish feeling. He’s certainly a man now, an adult, and one that is running for a role in our government. I think Lawson always knew what lay ahead of him and that’s exactly why he, Grant, and Finn gallivanted the way they did through college.

  “I can’t even imagine just sitting around and watching TV with the guys anymore. It’s always ‘I go to court on Thursday for this case’ or ‘legal hoopla this and that.’ Ya know, work stuff.”

  “Ah yes, that legal hoopla will get to you.”

  He smiles at me and it’s kind and warm. We return to the show, getting further invested in Alex’s storyline this season.

  “This feels like old times, but different, ya know?” he asks.

  “Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. It’s like we’ve done this a couple dozen times before but this time it’s in Portland and we aren’t going to bed with each other after,” it flies out of my mouth before I realize what I’m saying. Shit.

  “Yeah. Just like friends though.”

  It does feel like that, but in the back of my mind, I still remember the way he kissed me and his drunken messages just the previous week. We are doing a good job of forgetting that ever happened tonight, but I’m not sure if that’s really the best thing.

  I nod my head anyway. “Yeah. Maybe that’s the way it should have been all along. Just friends.”

  His eyes grow a little darker and the smile falls from his face as if what I just said displeases him. “Yeah, maybe,” he says sternly.

  I feel like this might be a time when I could tell him what I felt that night I left, what I felt almost the entire time I was with him, but I know it will sour the mood, and despite everything in our past, tonight is going well, and I want that for us. I want it for Lawson and Reece too.

  My phone buzzes again and I expect it to be April checking on me, but it’s Reece.

  Made a few changes to the contract today. Will sign it tomorrow and I’ll fly out Friday morning. How are things with Lawson? I miss you.

  I smile down at my phone.

  “Reece?” Lawson inquires. I look up and nod my head at him, not sure if that makes it awkward.

  “How’s his contract going? Don’t let them sucker him into signing some bogus money scheming contract.”

  “I’m sure he can handle himself. I don’t need to review it.”

  “But you’re a lawyer… or at least practically one.”

  “Yeah, and Reece was raised by one and sibling to another… he doesn’t need me to review anything for him. He could have just as easily been a lawyer if he wanted.”

  I type out my response, I miss you too. Glad to hear you’re almost done. Things are okay here. He brought back takeout so at least I’m being fed.

  “Do you miss it? Law?”

  “Not really, I miss the dream, the idea that I would be taking on these high profile Supreme Court cases and helping people with them. What I do now is just as helpful but less high-profile. What about you? Do you ever wish you could do anything else?”

  He stares at me as if I’ve confused him. “I don’t think I’ve ever been allowed to think about anything else.” I know he’s right. Such is the life of a Carolina senator’s son.

  “Well, what would you be if you could be anything?”

  “An astronaut,” he answers too quickly.

  “Really?”

  He scoffs out a laugh. “No. Not really. I don’t know. I honestly never put much thought into it. When you know you’re going to be a lawyer from day one, you don’t waste time building other skills and entertaining other ideas.”

  Well at least I know you aren’t starving, comes the text from Reece.

  “Is he happy?” I look to Lawson

  “Who?” I question.

  “Reece,” he says, pointing at my phone in my hands.

  “Reece is one of the happiest people I know,” I tell him honestly. “His ability to be carefree is addicting and I wish I had even an inkling of that in myself.”

  “Yeah, I don’t know where he gets that from. That’s not like Mom or Dad.”

  “He got it from having a choice. Reece is doing exactly what he enjoys doing, he literally works in a field of entertainment and pleasure. Yes, he feeds the world, but he has fun with it.”

  “And you? Did you have a choice?” Lawson asks.

  “I did. Unfortunately for me, I want to take on other people’s problems and make them my own. I love nursing but as long as I do it, I will never come home as chipper as Reece does. But at least I get to come home to someone that is still cheerful at the end of the day.”

  Lawson seems to be soaking this in. “Having someone to go home to with a smile on their face would be nice, but it’s just not ever something I’ve looked for in a woman. Rich housewives are cheerful. That’s the last thing I need.”

  “What do you want in someone?” I dare to ask. I know the second I say it I probably shouldn’t care, but I do. What does Lawson Calhoun want in a woman all these years later.

  “Passion,” he says dryly. “I want someone with fire. Someone who wants to fight with me, for me. I want drive and hunger.”

  My throat feels incredibly dry. We had been that way. We had been dangerous, tumultuous, and maybe for him, that was exactly what he was looking for. Until I ran.

  “I hope you find it,” I tell him. My voice sounds soft and you can hear the slight guilt it carries.

  “Yeah, me too,” he says.

  Silence washes over us, and I attempt feebly to return my focus to the TV. After a few moments, I stand up and stretch.

  “I’m glad we caught up some. I do miss your friendship,” I say in all honesty.

  “Yeah, me too.” He mimics his previous statement from just moments ago and offers me a warm, genuine smile.

  It makes me feel nice. Too nice. I shouldn’t appreciate his affections the way I still do, but its old familiarity makes me want to pull him to me and hug him tightly. I don’t because I know touching him like that would cross a line for us.

  “Well, I’m going to bed. Goodnight, Lawson.”

  “’Night, Farah.”

  CHAPTER 20 – PRESENT

  The hospital is busy and I’m relieved when the new shift comes on for some extra help. I finish up with the patients I started and then start on my final documentation for the day. It’s six by the time I’m starting to wrap things up. I’m a little nervous again to head home to my apartment with Lawson in it. Last night things were really good between us and I’m wondering if we are supposed to hang out again? Was that just a one-time break the ice kind of thing? I’m not really sure what to expect but it beats the awkward tension that I know we can create. I decide to type out a text to Lawson asking if he brought dinner home again or if I should pick us up something for once. Within a few moments, he replies with just
a photo of some takeout sitting on my dining room table. I reply with a thank you and let him know I’m going to finish up some work. I wonder if he always eats out like this. I know if I didn’t have Reece to cook for me, I would likely be a takeout disaster.

  “Hey. Get out of here already,” Mark, one of the attending physicians, says to me. “You got a drug habit to support or something? You’re racking up hours like crazy this week.”

  “No drugs for me. Just loneliness,” I reply. “Reece is out of town until tomorrow. Plus I have tomorrow off, so I’m just making sure all my loose ends are tied.”

  “Farah, you never leave loose ends. Who are you kidding?” His tone is playful and I wonder briefly if he’s flirting with me. I can’t tell and he may just be complimenting my work.

  “Well, I guess I’ll see ya around, doc.” I move to grab my purse in the work lounge I was writing my notes in and plug in my computer to one of the outlets in there. I slide past him on my way out and he just gives me a smile that I can’t read.

  When I get to the apartment, I can hear the shower running and I head straight for the takeout on the table, pulling out the different options. I decide on sushi and some cooked vegetables. A short bit later I hear the water turn off. I stuff another piece of sushi in my mouth, basking in the rich flavor of the soy sauce I dipped it in. When the door to the bathroom opens, I peer down the hallway from my chair at the table, intending to wave or nod at Lawson while my mouth is still full, but he doesn’t turn this way. Steam billows from the small bathroom and Lawson walks the opposite way down the hall toward his bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. I can still see the small beads of water that coat his upper back. I realize that he did not hear me come in. I’m a little in shock. Lawson in nothing but a towel is a site I haven’t seen in years and I’m thrust back five years ago into memories of us in his old house in Columbia. Music begins to play. I can’t tell what it is, but it sounds like the same rock bands he always listened to. It’s loud and filled with electric guitars and loud bass thrumming from the back of the apartment. When I shake the fog, I stand from the table and go to knock on his door in the guest room to let him know I’m here and see if he wants to watch any more of the Grey’s season with me or if he plans to hole himself up in the bedroom and work. As I reach the room across from my own, the door is cracked just a hair and I move to knock on it but stop still when I hear the outlet of a shaky breath.

  It stops me in my tracks. Anyone would know breathing like that. It’s the sound someone makes when they are releasing tension and seeking pleasure in their body. I stay stark still for a moment, afraid to move and make any noise now that I’m here. Afraid I’ll be caught, even though I wasn’t doing anything wrong. His breathing increases and it now matches the beat of the music coming from the room. I focus on his breath and attempt to block out any music. I should leave. I should go to my room or get out of the apartment or give him a minute to… finish. But I can’t. I’m drawn to the light noises drifting into the hall. There is something incredibly sexual and intimate about a man jerking off and something about it has always turned me on. A groan, short but clear resonates and I know he’s chasing his orgasm.

  Without thinking, I angle my body to look into the smallest opening of the door, scanning the room for him. I find him, completely bare on the bed, his head thrown back, stroking himself. His muscles along his chest and arm are tense and protruding as he strokes up and down. A pure animalistic moment. I remember him, the way he looked naked, he’s more toned now compared to his lean figure in college and I appreciate the way it looks as he pleasures himself. A dark part of me wants to enter the room and watch, unseen. I feel the familiar tingle in between my thighs, my own wanting signaling to me.

  Reece does this for me sometimes, stares at me while we both touch ourselves, teasing each other until we can’t take it anymore. I need to get out of here. I step back slowly attempting to not make any noise as I tiptoe back to the living room. I flip the TV on hoping it will signal my arrival home.

  I desperately want to just retreat to my own room and relieve the pressure I feel between my thighs but know that would look too obvious. I’m wound up and tense, wishing I hadn’t just seen what happened back there. The images are ingrained in my mind. It’s not as if I hadn’t seen Lawson naked before, but I hadn’t seen him naked in years, and never doing… that. I hear the music turn off and within a few minutes, Lawson reappears from the back guest room.

  “Hey,” he says sounding casual.

  I nod my head at him, fearful that if I speak, my voice will give me away. He comes to join me on the couch, and I click onto the Netflix app. He grabs his laptop from his briefcase but he doesn’t open up his computer.

  I crack my neck from side to side, feeling the awkward, uncomfortable knowledge of what I just witnessed roll over me.

  “Long day?”

  You could say that. I contemplate going to April’s but after being okay staying last night I’m sure she will have questions about my change of mind.

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  He stands and moves closer to me on the couch. “Here, hold your shoulders back, like this,” he says as he moves his hands to holding my shoulders as far back as they will go, creating a stretch between my neck and shoulder blades.

  His sudden touch surprises me and I want to move from it, knowing it’s dangerous even though he doesn’t seem to have any flirtatious ill-intentions. His motions are purely instructional, using his hands to pull on my shoulder and neck to stretch the muscle that desperately needs loosening. He moves closer behind me to gain better access and while I immediately notice my own tense posture, Lawson either doesn’t recognize it or ignores it as he continues to stretch out my neck and shoulders.

  “I dated a masseuse once,” he explains. “She taught me a few things.”

  “Figures,” I say sarcastically.

  With the exception of Kayla, I know nothing about Lawson’s dating history. If Reece knew, he didn’t bother to tell me. Lawson pushes his thumbs into a pressure point by my shoulder blades and despite feeling uncomfortable near him a small sigh of relief empties from my mouth at how good this feels. His hands still at the noise, paused on my back.

  “Thank you. That actually felt really good,” I say calmly, still facing away from him, in the silence between us. I’m about to turn around and create some space until I feel his hands, feather-light, begin to cascade over my shoulders and arms, no longer stretching my tired body, but almost… caressing it.

  “I saw you back there,” he says, his voice coming out raspy.

  “Back where?” I ask with trepidation, hoping he doesn’t mean what I think he means.

  “At the door of my room, just moments ago. You were watching me.”

  “I…” I don’t have anything to say. “I didn’t mean to. I just was in shock, not expecting that.” His hands continue to draw lightly on my skin. “Do you always do that while staying as a guest in someone’s home? And if you knew I was there then why didn’t you stop?” I say, this time more confidently, finally finding my voice.

  “I didn’t stop because I was close to coming.” His voice is husky, and he doesn’t sound ashamed.

  I draw in a breath noticeable to both of us at that. I feel his body and breath come closer behind me.

  “And no, I don’t always do that as a guest in a home, but when I’m staying next to a woman I have fantasized fucking again and again for years, I find masturbating to be the preferred option to decrease some of the tension I would rather release on her.”

  His blunt answer is no surprise to me. I should have known he would meet my fire, but his revelation about fantasizing about me has me unsure how to respond. I decide to turn around and meet his gaze, challenge him. See if he’s just trying to throw me off. When I find his eyes, there is fire in them. He’s also obviously hard in his athletic shorts and I make every effort not to let him know I notice. He’s not backing down. Last night’s friendly dinner and movie
seems so far away, like a farce when there is still this much desire brewing between us. My pulse is spiked, I feel goose bumps pebbling my skin everywhere and I’m trying desperately to deny the attraction and how turned on I still am. He inches closer to me and I want to throw my hands up and push him away, to stand and move to the other side of the room, but I’m frozen.

  “I’m going to kiss you again,” he rasps and before I have time to refuse, his familiar mouth is on mine. I feel my nipples peak and I desperately… desperately need relief.

  Lawson isn’t gentle, his mouth is demanding of mine, insisting I feel the same way. It is manipulative and conniving and convincing in the same way that he is. He palms my breast through the long-sleeve shirt I had worn under my scrubs. Dear God, I need more. I arch up into his hand, granting him permission he doesn’t deserve, but I am lost in the chase for my own relief. His lips pull back from mine and he looks at me, only for a moment.

  “Please,” I beg, but am not sure what for.

  He leans back into me, devouring the skin on my neck. The hand that was just tweaking my breast begins to scale down my body and I’m impatient. When he reaches the band of my pants, he gently glides his fingers beneath, still leaving the layer of my panties between his touch and my body, but it’s enough. The second he glides his fingers over my clit, I jut out at him, seeking the pressure, the pleasure. A whimper leaves my lips and I close my eyes, refusing to watch what he does to me, refusing to admit what I’m allowing him to do. He rubs me purposefully in circles and goes back to kissing my neck, an area I am okay with him being. I don’t want him to have my lips, it feels too real when he’s kissing me there.

  “You’re so wet, I can feel you through your underwear,” he growls and he must know how turned on I’ve been since the second he walked out of the bedroom.

  He then lifts the side of my panties just enough to angle his hand in and I feel the direct contact of his warm fingers pressing down on me, exploring how wet I am. He dips one finger into me, and I swear it’s all I’m going to need to come. Within three small thrusts, I begin to clench, my whole body tensing, and my core clenching his one finger. When my body falls languid, he removes it and wipes his hand over the junction between my thighs, swiping through the wet mess I’ve made.