“Yeah, that works,” said Alex. “We don’t need to worry too much about it. Everyone will add their own fake emotion about it, and then they’ll forget about it in a few days. That’s the way it works when people split up.”
I tilted my head to the side and said, “Fake emotion. That’s a pretty strong statement, Alex. Do you think people are that insensitive?”
Alex pointed the remote control at the TV and turned it off. He said, “No, I’m not judgmental. I just think we’re assaulted by too much information every day about so many different things and an unmanageable number of different people. That makes it hard to focus and give honest emotional responses. I’m sure closer friends like Sarah really would be upset, but they will already know the truth.”
I asked, “Are you always this logical?”
Alex laughed, “I am until I get upset. You didn’t see me screaming at Eric while he kicked me out of the house. My logic rolled out the door along with my suitcases. I was completely off the hook, but assholes make me act that way.”
“Would it be wrong for me to ask you to come over here a little closer?”
“I don’t know if it’s right or wrong, but I’d love to.”
He scooted to the middle of the couch, and I beckoned him further. Then I pulled one leg up and rested it against the back of the cushions.
“In your lap?” asked Alex.
“Why not?”
A sly grin was painted on his face when he pulled himself along and leaned his back against my chest. I sighed softly and wrapped my arms around his torso holding Alex for the first time since we met.
Leaning the back of his head against my collarbone, Alex asked, “What brought this on? Not that I’m complaining.”
“We started something at the baseball game, and I said we were going to talk about it, and we never did.”
Alex rubbed one hand along my thigh. He said, “I thought you forgot about it, or you didn’t want to talk about it.”
I lightly pinched a nipple through his shirt and asked, “How could I forget about that?”
“Ouch,” yelped Alex. “Well, you went right to sleep and the next morning acted like it didn’t happen.” He paused before adding, “Damn, that makes me sound petulant, but I’m not. I liked the kisses. It was fun to hear people cheering for us.”
“You didn’t say anything either, Alex.”
He rolled his head back and looked up at my face. “Does it matter who didn’t talk? It only matters that we didn’t.”
“It doesn’t matter at all.” I reached down and gripped his chin. I slowly and gently turned his head upward and to the side so that I could bend down and kiss his lips again.
Alex responded by shifting his body so that he could face me. He kissed back, and we both parted our lips. Alex’s tongue sent shivers of excitement through my body. I held him tight and pressed our lips hard together.
When Alex slipped a hand behind my head, a shudder racked my body. It was as if every ounce of attraction to him over the last month was flooding my body.
He pressed his chest against mine, and his hand moved upward behind my head raking his fingers through my hair. He briefly pulled back from the kiss and asked, “Is this okay?”
I responded by wrapping him tighter in my arms and cutting off the possibility of any more comments by smothering his mouth with mine.
Alex’s other hand tugged the tails of my shirt out of my dress pants. I knew what was coming next and moaned deeply into his mouth when his warm fingertips slid under the shirt connecting with my bare skin.
I couldn’t stop my hand drifting downward to cup a perfectly round ass cheek. “Oh, fuck, Liam,” murmured Alex into my mouth.
I kneaded at his ass and pulled him tighter until I could feel him hard against my thigh. I wanted to take him to bed. I wanted to tear his clothes from his body and throw his ankles up over my shoulders. I didn’t care about marriage, fake or not. I just wanted to fuck him like he was my husband. I didn’t want to pretend.
Alex’s fingers feverishly worked at the buttons on my shirt until he could push it open exposing my entire chest and abs. Then he nibbled on my bottom lip before trailing kisses down the side of my neck.
I shoved a hand between us and began to unfasten Alex’s pants. He moaned in response before licking at my collarbone. Then I stopped.
I remembered Alex’s plan to leave. He was going back to St. Paul in what could be just a matter of a week or two. Then it would be over. I knew that he thought five hours wasn’t too far away, but with a world of other guys living less than a thirty-minute drive from him, I didn’t believe he would stick to me. I didn’t trust that I would stick to him either.
When he realized I stopped kneading and pawing at his flesh, Alex pulled back. He asked, “Is everything okay? Something’s wrong. Isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
With a breathless voice, he said, “It’s so fucking hot. What on earth could be wrong?”
‘You’re leaving.” I said, “And don’t tell me you’re not just because you’re horny. I’m fucking horny, too, but I’m trying to be realistic. I have a heart, and you do, too.”
Alex rolled to my side and grumbled, “And it’s hurting right now.”
“Trust me. It would be even harder than breaking up with Eric because we do like each other. Stopping myself isn’t fucking easy, Alex, but it’s right.”
He frowned and pulled back to the opposite side of the couch sitting with his arms crossed over his chest. He said, “I’m not sure I like you right now.”
“Yeah, go right ahead and hate me for it. I was stupid to start kissing tonight, and that was my fault, and it wasn’t fair.”
He whispered, “It was awesome. It felt right, and it was exciting.”
“It was.”
He stared across the length of the couch at me. Whether or not I could see them from that distance, I thought about staring into his green eyes. It still made my heart skip a beat to think about it. Alex sighed and asked, “Do you know how I’m feeling right now, Liam?”
“How would I? I’m not you.”
“I feel like I’m going to fucking hate you when I go to bed tonight. I’m going to slam my fist into the pillow and want to scream, ‘What an asshole!’ Then tomorrow I’ll wake up and think, ‘Yeah, he’s probably right,’ and five years from now when I’m standing next to that guy in a black tux at my real wedding, I’ll want to call you and say, ‘Thank you. I hated you for it, but you were fucking right.’”
I asked, “Can I say thank you to you right now?”
Alex nodded. He said, “You can say thank you to me right now, because I know I just gave you one of the fucking hottest kisses of your life. You’re gonna have a hard time finding a guy that can match up to me.”
16
Alex
At breakfast the next morning, I wasn’t ready to make nice yet. Like I said the night before, I pounded the pillow and buried my face in it so I could scream without Liam hearing me. I did wake up with the thought that he might be right, but I wasn’t ready to give Liam the satisfaction of agreeing with his decision.
He was already working on trying to patch things up. I entered the kitchen with a three-egg ham and cheese omelet waiting on the table for me and a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice. Liam smiled and pushed a mug of coffee into my hand before I sat at the table. He said, “I made breakfast for us. I was up early and thought you might enjoy it.”
“So that you know, I’m still pissed.”
“I understand.”
We ate in silence, and I cleared the table. Fortunately, Liam left the kitchen to finish up getting ready for work. I didn’t want him to see the tears streaming down my face while I put together a sandwich for his lunch.
When he reappeared, I handed him the lunch and said, “I thought I might walk Chester down toward Sarah’s building today. I thought it’s about time that I make good on my offer to help her out before I move five long hours away to St. Paul.”
I looked down at Chester and said, “I’m not going to mope around the house today. I know some sunshine will make me feel at least a little bit better. I’m going to take a shower and get dressed. Then we’re going for a walk in a different direction.”
* * *
I wore a heavy jacket. The weather was turning sharply colder, but the sun was bright with only a few puffy clouds in the sky. Chester was ready for the walk, and he pranced proudly in front of me as we made our way down the sidewalk.
Just three blocks from Liam’s house, tall apartment buildings lined each side of the street. I turned three blocks to the east so we could walk along the top of the bluff looking out over Lake Michigan. Tall buildings obscured most of our view, but I enjoyed the brief glimpses of blue water in the distance.
Sarah’s building perched at the top of the old hill that rose out of the center of the city. Just beyond her building you could look toward downtown and see the spires of the churches in the oldest sections. I read the sign by the sidewalk leading to the front door. It said, “Bessemer Building.”
I remembered wanting to look up who Mr. Bessemer was, but I forgot. With Chester sitting calmly at my side, I craned my neck back so I could look up at the 23 floors of the cream-colored structure. The lines were clean and straight until three floors from the top. Elegant ornamentation was carved into the terra cotta facing the top three stories to give the building a sophisticated appearance.
I said to Chester, “I can’t wait until I get to go inside. I love old buildings like this. I wonder if it still has the pneumatic tubes they used to collect the mail. Or maybe Sarah still has a laundry chute that reaches clear to the basement.”
Sensing that I might stand and stare at the building for awhile, Chester stretched out his legs and lay down.
I shifted my gaze to the landscaping around the Bessemer Building. It was a little tattered, and the shrubs were not high-quality landscaping choices. They would have showy white blossoms for a few weeks in the spring, but the rest of the season they were sad little mounds of uninspiring foliage.
I said to no one in particular, “I could have this cleaned up and receiving positive comments within a week. I bet I can get Sarah’s apartment humming in less time than that.”
When I was finished staring at the century-old structure, I led Chester back across the street to a small park boasting views of the Lake Michigan marinas down below.
I held a finger to my lips and said, “Shh, Chester. Don’t tell anyone about this,” as I reached down and unsnapped the leash from his collar. He jogged halfway to the nearest tree and then turned back toward me looking somewhat confused. I nodded in the affirmative, and he immediately turned around to approach the tree, lift a leg, and then circle the ancient trunk with his nose fully engaged.
While Chester moved on to investigate a stately old oak, my cell phone rang. I looked down and saw that it was a call from Jeremy, one of my oldest friends from St. Paul. He said, “Hey, Alex, I think I’ve finally got a real lead.”
“Seriously? In what direction?”
“There’s a private school looking for a maternity leave replacement in English lit. It doesn’t pay as much as the public schools to start, but I talked to a couple of the other teachers, and they said the salary could rise faster than normal.”
It was the first real positive job news I’d heard since moving to Milwaukee. I gripped the phone tight and said, “It sounds like something I should jump on.”
“Great! I’ll send you the details in e-mail, Alex. How are you getting on there in Beer Town?”
I immediately thought of Liam, and I said, “I feel like I’ve been on a roller coaster ride, but all is okay. I’ll tell you a lot more when I’m back in St. Paul.”
Jeremy said, “That’s good because we all miss you here. The city just isn’t the same without you. And I can’t wait to have you back minus asshole Eric.” There was a moment of silence between us, and then he said, “I hope you don’t mind me calling him that.”
I chuckled softly and said, “I could call him a whole lot worse, Jer. Give everybody a hug for me, and I’ll see all of you soon one way or another.”
When the phone call ended, I noticed Chester gave up on his exploration of the little park’s flora, and he was lying on his side in the grass with the late fall sunlight streaming across his body. I took a step toward him, and he leaped to his feet bolting in my direction. While I accepted eager kisses on the cheek, I snapped the leash back on his collar.
Halfway back to Liam’s house, a tear began to roll down my cheek. I reached up to wipe it away with my fingers. It was followed by a second, third and more. I found myself standing on the sidewalk with Chester at my feet and a stream of tears rolling down my face.
I wasn’t sure what specific event inspired the tears. I thought they could be tears of relief about the job search that seemed fruitless and endless just twenty-four hours ago. Or maybe they were tears about leaving Milwaukee and, most of all, leaving Liam. Or perhaps it was just the result of generalized stress relief.
After finally regaining control of myself, I walked Chester up to the kitchen door and let him inside. I made my way to the downstairs bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror. My eyes were red, swollen and puffy. I looked at the rest of my face, and then I saw my lips. They were still slightly swollen from the intensity of Liam’s kisses. As I remembered the moments from the night before, the tears began to stream again.
17
Liam
Sarah said, “This might be the last of our lunches that we can do outdoors.” She sat on our usual bench just a few short steps from Harry’s bratwurst wagon. Pulling her heavy jacket tight around her body, she took a bite from the end of the bun. “It’s almost too chilly to sit outside. I love you, Liam, but I’m not eating lunch with you outdoors when the snow starts to fly.”
“You’re not tough enough, Sarah?”
“It doesn’t have anything to do with being tough. It has to do with being sane.”
I tried to laugh, but the mirth just didn’t come. Instead, I said, “Sometimes I wonder about my sanity.”
Sarah took another bite of the bratwurst, and I watched the visible steam rise into the air. She said, “You seem a little more subdued than normal. What’s going on?”
“Why do you think something’s going on? Maybe it’s just been a long day so far at work.”
She tugged on her jacket again and said, “Because I know things are going great guns at work unless it changed this morning. If it did that, you would have been bursting with the news. It’s about Alex, isn’t it?”
I grumbled, “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re far too smart, Sarah?” I bit into my brat and savored the bite of the mustard and the warm, spicy flavor of the meat.
“I think you’ve mentioned that a time or three, yes. I respectfully disagree, but no, it’s not the first time you’ve mentioned it.”
I took another bite, chewed and broke the brief silence saying, “Yeah, it is about Alex. He found out about a job lead. It looks promising, and he’s going to St. Paul for an interview. Alex told me he would bring his things with him so he could just stay there if he’s offered the position.”
Sarah’s eyes opened wider, and she relaxed the death grip her fingers held on her jacket. “That’s great news. What kind of position? Is it teaching? I hope it’s not full-time schlepping packages around.”
It’s an English lit teaching offer at a private high school.” I looked at the brat and felt my stomach rumble. I was no longer hungry and stuffed the last half of the bun and meat in my paper bag.
“That’s perfect for him,” said Sarah. “I hope you told him you’re happy for him. I hope you said congratulations.”
“Yeah, yeah. I did all of that. We drank the l
ast of a bottle of wine last night to celebrate, and I ordered out Chinese food to share for dinner.”
“I’m proud of you, Liam. It hurts though, too, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, it does. I don’t understand how you always know these things, but it feels like I’ve got a softball in my gut, and it’s just getting bigger. I had to go to bed early last night because I didn’t want to spoil the celebration for Alex.”
“Did you tell him how you feel?”
I tried not to roll my eyes as I rubbed my nose with the napkin from my lunch. I said, “No, I didn’t tell Alex how I feel because he will suggest that we try and have a relationship with me in Milwaukee and him in St. Paul.”
“Can I ask you something?”
Sarah’s eyes squinted, and her forehead furrowed. She was trying to help, and I knew that I was a troublesome case. I overthought everything, and I had an answer for every suggestion. I said, “Sure, go ahead and ask.”
“Liam, what is it about this long distance thing. You are so adamant about it. You’ve told me about old boyfriends, but they were all in Milwaukee. Is there something I’m missing? Is there an important story I haven’t heard?”
Sometimes I felt like one of those bugs pinned to a board for my eighth-grade biology project when Sarah talked like that. I was pretty sure I felt that way because she was usually right. In this case, there was something I didn’t tell her, but I wanted to keep it to myself because it was logically stupid when I repeated it in my head.
“There is something, isn’t there?” she asked.
I nodded yes and said, “But it’s stupid.”
Sarah crumpled up the wrapper for her brat into a tight little ball and stuffed it in her bag. She put an arm around my shoulders and said, “You better tell me right now, or I’m going to hound you until you do. You know that I would do that.”
I asked, “Isn’t it stupid to still be upset about something in fifth grade?”
The Pretend Husband: Romance In the City, Book 1 Page 9