I'm going to be evil for a minute. Not in the sense one would think when hearing that word. I'm just going to have a little fun. As a woman, I've figured out that one of the greatest compliments is not the words from a man's mouth or the amount of times that he makes her feel wanted through sex; for it is knowing of the power she has with her body over the man that holds her heart.
When you openly love and want one person infinitely, it can get frustrating at times, because there is no chase for him left when he has you. You're just . . . his. But when that person that you hold so close stands and looks at you like this, wanting and needing you, no matter how many times you've given him the very thing you're offering, and the degree in which he wants you is higher than you can measure, it makes you feel alive. It makes you feel more beautiful than anyone could ever say with words. It makes you feel like an Audrey Hepburn or Marilyn Monroe. It makes you feel irreplaceable. So I'm going to use my body against him on occasion, because I can. Besides, I know he can do it, face his fears that is, and when you love someone you help them battle their fears at least once. He's done it so many times with me. "I'll tell you what."
I point in the direction of the park I know it's in. "You get your sexy ass on that rollercoaster with me . . ." I pull him as close to me as I can get him, the fabric of his shirt still crumpled in my fist. "And on our wedding night I'll have a pair of fresh cowboy boots for you to break in. The leather will be a little tough. You'll have to grip 'em tight."
He grunts. His breath touches my cheek as he speaks. "That's all I gotta do? Ride that death trap one time and you'll keep your word?"
"That's right, farm boy." I provoke. "Ride it once. That's it. No catch. If you hate it, we'll play games the rest of the time we're here, but if you love it, we'll try another one. Either way, it's a win/win for you. All you gotta do is survive through it. I'll even throw in a cowboy hat for good measure and show you how bareback is done in the south."
He takes off faster than I've ever seen him move, leaving me standing here. He doesn't make it too far before he runs back and grabs my hand, jerking me until my feet catch up to his speed. "Let's do the damn thing."
Saxton
"Are you ready?"
I glance at her in the same seat beside me as the safety device is locked into place. My stomach feels like it's heading in the direction of gastrointestinal upset and my palms are sweaty. The wheel was high at times, but it was slow, and she was able to sway my mind off the fact that one wrong move and I'm watermelon being dropped from a tall building: spatter on cement.
"I'm ready to get this over with," I state honestly. "But I'll tell you this . . . If we die, your pussy is still mine in the afterlife. Don't let some smooth talkin' angel with badass wings steal you away. Flying is not all it's cracked up to be."
She surrenders a laugh and looks at me, before rolling her eyes. "Oh my god. This can't be my life right now. You're so dramatic sometimes. We are not going to die."
"You don't know that. Technical malfunctions happen everyday. My feet were made to be planted on the ground. If I wanted my faith to be in humanity I wouldn't be a porn star. It died long ago. All I'm saying is, don't you dare fucking leave me in the after. I will chase down your ass even then."
She raises her brow. "You better. I wouldn't expect anything less, but we aren't going to die. You're sucking all the fun out of it! Even if we did, I hardly think that's appropriate conversation when talking about Heaven."
I stare at her, baffled. "Uh, weren't you a churchgoer?"
"Yes. All of my life. What's your point?"
"Do you not remember that the devil himself was a fallen angel? I hardly expect him to be the only one."
"We are not having this conversation."
"Why not?"
Before she can respond, the train of cars surges forward, and at that exact moment my stomach plummets to my gut. Everything surrounding me is now foreign territory.
I can't breathe.
I can't think.
I can't move.
I feel like I'm going to hurl.
The twisting and turning has my insides sloshing around. Life around me passes like a flash of lightning. I don't like it. And just when you get slightly used to the accelerated speeds and the jerking of your body as the car runs along the track, it changes it all on you.
Rung by rung the damn rickety piece of shit climbs the hill. This is the worst feeling: anticipating the fall downward. As it peaks the top she does something unexpected. She glances at me and grabs my hand, lacing our fingers, and making sure that as we fall, we fall together. "Here we go."
The smile on her face is enough to make a grown man fall to his knees, and the excitement in her voice overthrows my fears. Even though I hate this still, and I'll probably regret agreeing to it when I'm alone within the confinements of a bathroom bent over a toilet, I'll lie. I'll ride every damn ride that sits on this property for her. I can think of nothing else but her happiness.
Her hand squeezes mine as the inevitable happens. I'm not sure where all my head has been, but this is the moment I realize something vital. One truth I know for sure. She will never leave me.
Everything in my world becomes peace. My erratic heartbeat dies down. The sweat stops production. The fear goes away. Nothing in this world is scary when you know someone is standing beside you the entire way. I wish I had known this before. I guess it doesn't really make sense until you find the one. She is my one that is vastly different from all others. She is the one I breathe for, and the one I can't live without. She is my hope for a life I didn't see for myself before.
She's my lighthouse. She lit my way out of a darkness I was lost in, she guides me through storms, and she's my beacon to find my way home . . .
Chapter Seventeen
Kambry
"Sax."
My voice is groggy. The smell of bacon and coffee invades my nose. He doesn't answer like he usually does, even if he's asleep when I call his name. My arm extends to his side of the bed, searching for him. When it's empty I open my eyes to something red on his pillow, still lying on my stomach. My vision is a little blurry and out of focus, but it doesn't take long to figure out what it is.
My hand wraps around the single, long stem and I bring the bloom of the rose to my nose. As the silk of the petal tickles my skin I smile, reveling in the way it makes me feel. Even though I know it'll soon die and lose its beauty, it doesn't change the way your heart beats uneven and your stomach becomes nervous at the sight of a man giving you flowers.
The card-stuffed envelope that is beside where the rose was becomes my next focus. It's white, with my name scribbled across the front in his handwriting. I position on my side to gain use of my other hand and open it, pulling the beautiful card out of the envelope.
It's a birthday card.
Tears expel at the sight of that word. I had actually kind of forgotten about my birthday with everything going on. It's hard to keep the days and dates straight. I certainly didn't tell him.
Tynleigh . . .
I read over the poem in the card, loving every word, but the part that gets my attention the most is the hand written portion at the bottom.
Good morning, beautiful . . .
I'll never miss out on your birthday, even when you try to keep it from me. This day, nineteen years ago, was the day I was given the mate to my soul. My reason for existence was confirmed. I've been wandering through the days jaded ever since, waiting for the day when you would walk into my life and complete the missing part of me. It's one day that is actually worth celebrating. Happy birthday, baby. I love you. Sit up, enjoy your present, and come find me.
P.S. Don't forget to call Meredith. I kind of owe her this one.
—Your soon to be husband.
Meredith . . .
I should have known. My grin is set firmly on my face, taking up most of the space. I sit up, allowing the blanket to fall to my waist, and my mouth falls as I take it all in. The ceiling is covered in pink,
A squeaky sound starts. My eyes target the large wrapped box sitting in the middle of the room. It gets louder. What is that? I stand and walk toward it. When my footsteps sound the box moves. A scared yelp exits my mouth. In response to the bark that follows, my heart liquidates.
I rush toward it, tugging the lid off the box. The baby blues that meet me steal my air. The only response I can muster is a blood-curdling scream. The words finally come. "You got me a puppy! Oh my god."
I lift the tiny shiny-gray baby out of the box and hold her under her front legs out in front of me. Her hot pink collar is beautiful against her fur. "Hi, little one. I'm your mama."
Her tongue slips through her closed mouth and then she yawns, followed by another bark. I cradle her against my lavender tank top and squeeze her as tight as I can without hurting her. Her head turns up toward me and she licks my chin. It's a weird texture; kind of rough like sandpaper. I've never had a pet, aside from the low maintenance goldfish I had for years before it kicked the bucket. It was the only pet my parents would allow. They didn't want the upkeep responsibility to fall back on them from our lack of, as we got older.
I'm a sappy mess. Tears are streaming down my face. The silver plate on the top of her collar becomes visible as I wipe my eyes. It has our information on her, but the top line is unscathed metal, unlike the etching below it. Her name is not listed. He's letting me name her . . .
The tears start all over again. This is the best birthday ever. I walk us back to the bed and sit her atop, then grab beneath her mouth to look at her. "What do you want your name to be, little girl?"
She walks to my lap and jumps in, wagging her small Labrador tail along the way, before settling into a little ball with her head on my thigh. I grab my phone off the nightstand when it starts to ring.
Meredith calling . . .
I swipe to answer and put it to my ear. "Happy birthday, love! Another one down for the count."
I laugh. "Thank you. I've missed hearing your voice."
"To be expected. My voice rocks."
"Your ass is conceited." I laugh again, my good mood holding.
"You wouldn't love me the same if I wasn't. It's part of my charm. So . . . good birthday or bad? Just tell me if I need to get my ball-busting supplies ready. I can be there in a few hours."
"He got me a puppy!" There is no way I can stop the excitement as it barrels from my lips. It feels like champagne finally being released from the confinements of the cork it sits behind.
"Asshole."
"What?"
"That's a total asshole move. Damn porn stars. They aren't supposed to be good with romance and sex. It's unfair. How do you think small dick men land a woman forever? Hmm . . . They are hopeless romantics, that's how. Do you see Ben doing sweet shit? He's an asshole. Your boyfriend cannot fucking top my birthday presents on the first one. It's unnatural. It's insulting. He needs to work for that shit like the rest of us. The first one should suck ass and you smile nicely like it's the best damn thing you've ever gotten. Do you know how long I plan what I'm getting you for your birthday?"
"Isn't it great? He's totally getting laid later."
"No, don't condone bad behavior."
"You're being a jealous hag right now."
"Growing up with your ass and being the best damn friend ever earned me the privilege of that behavior. Deal with it."
"Fine. I really miss you and your bitchiness."
"Miss you too, Kam. California is a bit smaller without you and porno boy around. Don't you dare tell him I said that either. His ego doesn't need to get any bigger. But for reals . . . it's depressing. Ben is long gone back to school, so I don't have the amazing sex boy toy to occupy my time like I did with Bryant. This distance thing is going to suck. I hope I didn't do something stupid, ya know? He better be serious this time. I gave up perfectly good, steady sex for him; that I'm sure another girl is enjoying. I've also turned into that lady that sits at home on Friday night in my robe with a pint of Ben and Jerry's while I watch all of the best friend and romance movies. I'm pretty positive I could even be a fill-in for a Friends cast member now. It's that sad."
I laugh. "Mer," I say in a dramatically saddened voice. "Awe, that's so sad."
"Right. I should end my life. It's never been this bad. I figured I'd be on my way to being a feminine badass right now. For my future I always knew I'd easily be the real life Carrie Bradshaw or Samantha Jones from Sex and the City, but no, my life has taken a plunge quickly."
"You're such a diva. Ben may be good but he's not that good. No man can totally tame Meredith Love. How are things going with that? Have you talked to him?"
"God, yes. He calls me like every hour. After every class my phone starts ringing. I bet I know his school schedule better than he does. I've never heard the man talk so much in my life. Totally killed that mystery thing he had going."
"Too much?"
"Yes! Even if I wanted to run back to my latest bang I have no time. I think he's a little paranoid about Bryant. He'd never admit it though."
I don't think he has anything to worry about . . .
"So tell him to chill. I'm sure his frat house is constantly overfilled with drunk girls. It's like a socially acceptable whorehouse. He was probably hooking up with girls just like you were guys."
"No! And stop planting that shit in my brain. Those weeds are not needed. We really need to work on your filter. I'm just a needy bitch that doesn't know what I want. It annoys me until I hear his voice, but I think it's only because it makes me want him more and we are thousands of miles apart. God knows I've always wanted him. It's a damn fucked up card to draw. I even considered flying to Alabama for the weekend. Does that tell you how much I need medication and a big stiff cock right now? I think withdrawals have started."
I scratch puppy's back, listening, and holding back the laughs since this is actually serious Meredith conversation. Meredith could ban Alabama from the United States and never feel guilty. It has nothing to do with the state and everything to do with it being home. Her wings are big and the south is small . . . minded in most cases. It doesn't work for her, and, I can't say that I blame her. I, too, am in no rush to return. "Well, I heard somewhere that FaceTime sex works pretty well."
"Oh my god. That's genius. I don't know why my perverted mind never considered it; although, I'm going to refrain from asking why you know this, because I do not want to know."
"That's a first."
"And the talk of a horny, lonely woman, sitting at home while her good looks go to waste. I'd be mad at the bitch too if I were you. Worst best friend ever. God, I'm starting to hate the sound of my own voice. Come back to me," she wines. "But on a serious note, I'm glad you’re having fun. You deserve every bit of it, so stretch out those newfound wings and live it up. I better have lots of stories to live through upon your return."
"You'd love it here. His sister too." That awkward thought returns. Bryant. Okay, maybe not. That sounds like disaster. "So, I need you to help me name pups. Nothing is popping in my head," I say, changing the subject.
"You should name it Sam for shits and giggles. It's a neutral name and it's like meshing Saxton and Kambry together in one love puppy."
"That's perfect!"
"I was kidding."
"I love it."
"Figures. You would."
"Now boarding, flight . . . "
"Are you at an airport?"
"No! That was the television. Gotta go, love. Call me later. Happy birthday. Kisses."
The call drops. Damn shady bitch. She's totally going to Alabama. I glance through my texts, reading the one from my brother.
Ben: Happy birthday, sis. Make it a good one. Love you.
I reply quickly to thank him. It means a lot to me that he would text me. Maybe this is a good thing: him and Meredith. I can tell a huge difference in his overall attitude already.
I glance down at Sam in my lap, letting her name roll through my mind a few times. It just fits. I set my phone down and move her to the middle of the bed long enough to grab the spare blanket and put it crumpled in the corner. Then I move her onto the cover on the floor so she doesn't fall off.
It's my birthday and there is one sexy man out there that deserves to see me in my birthday suit. Tynleigh told us on the way home last night that she had to be at work early and stay most of the day anyway since she took off the full day yesterday, so we already expected to be doing our own thing today. Thinking back on it now, and remembering their encounter as she told us, it was probably all planned this way. I may as well take advantage of no one being in her apartment but us.
Luckily Sam goes back to sleep almost instantly after I lay her on the blanket. I tiptoe to the door and quietly lock it, before discarding my shorts and tank top, then step out of my panties, leaving them beside my clothes. The first thing I check off the list is brushing my teeth so I don't forget with other things on my mind.
Thirty seconds. I spit the mouthwash into the sink and rinse it out with water. That's as long as I can hold it and endure the burn. I'm a baby when it comes to the stout alcohol burn of mouthwash. My makeup bag is sitting on the counter. I don't need most of what's in it at the moment. There is one particular thing I'm looking for.
The tube comes into view after moving a few things around. I pull it out and remove the top to the hooker-red lipstick I've never used. It's untouched by a pair of lips. I would think there are others out there like me. I've always been terrified of red lipstick, even when I see someone wearing it and love it. A very fine line in how it's worn makes the difference between a classic beauty and a whore. Then there is the issue of the shade of teeth. Red is a bold color that can accentuate them, for better or worse.
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