by Sophie Stern
“Well, you guys are both busy. That’s understandable.”
“My classes are manageable this semester.”
“You mean you’re not taking 30 credit hours?” Bailey asks drily.
“Hey! I’ve never taken that many.”
“Only because the school wouldn’t let you.”
“I’m not that bad.” I am totally that bad. It’s not like my parents are paying for college, though. My school has this thing where, once you hit 12 credit hours, any additional ones are free.
You’d be crazy not to take advantage of that. I’ve taken at least 15-21 credits every semester of college until this one.
This semester, I’m slowing down a little.
“Aren’t you going to graduate a year early, anyway?”
“A semester early,” I admit. “Or I can double major in something and graduate on time. I haven’t really decided yet.”
“So have you just been too busy to see James?” Bailey asks, twirling her straw in her drink. “Or are you scared?”
“I’m not scared.”
“You seem scared.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I’ve known you a long time, Kasey. You don’t really commit to guys.”
Before I snap at Bailey that I’m not scared of commitment, I take a second to think about what she’s saying, what she’s actually saying, and part of me feels a little surprised, a little hurt.
The saddest part is that I know she’s right. In the time Bailey and I were living together, I never dated anyone seriously. I was too focused on school and work and dancing. James really caught me off guard because he’s the first guy I’ve even considered dating long-term.
That’s a little scary.
“Well, maybe you can give me some advice when you finish moving out,” I say, feigning a smile. She’s moving in with Cooper now. She’s been staying at his place for awhile anyway, but now that they’re married and everything’s official, she’s going to be moving in with him for real.
“I know. I really should finish moving out, shouldn’t I?”
“You really should. Your boxes are everywhere, and I need to find myself a new roommate, after all,” only admitting this makes me a little sad, and she can tell.
“You could move into a different place,” Bailey says quietly. She means a place that isn’t filled with memories of me and Bailey.
“What? And miss out on our pool?” I scoff, but the reality is that Bailey is, as always, completely right. I should move. I should find myself a nice, cheap little studio and just go live there. The idea of being in a new place freaks me out, especially being on my own.
“You could move in with James,” Bailey suggests.
“Um, no offense, but it seems a little early.”
“He’s been thinking about getting a roommate.”
“Strictly platonic?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, right. Is anything ever strictly platonic with guys like him?”
“Speak of the devil,” I say, looking at the front doors of the restaurant. Cooper and James are walking in. Their eyes roam around the room, scanning for us. I can tell the second James sees me because he doesn’t say a damn thing to Coop. He just starts heading straight toward me, burning me up with his steely gaze.
“Oh, did I forget to mention?” Bailey takes another sip of her virgin daiquiri. She’s not old enough to drink “for real” yet. “I invited them.”
“You bitch,” I say, but there’s no heat in my voice. Bailey just laughs. She knows how excited I am to see James. I haven’t actually seen him in person since our “date” after Bailey and Cooper’s wedding, but the two of us have talked on the phone almost every night.
How old school is that? Talking on the phone?
It seems kind of strange, honestly, but it’s also a little bit perfect. I love the way he’s so classic in his approach to dating. He calls me on the phone and we talk for hours. It reminds me of old movies I used to watch in black and white.
Then again, he’s not really talking to me about my day.
That’s not what James does when he calls me.
No, he seduces me using only his voice and he makes me feel like I’m on fire. He talks to me until I’m so wet I can barely stand it. He whispers to me until I’m completely soaked, and then he makes me come.
No guy I’ve been with before has ever made me come so hard, so fast, or so thoroughly as James, and he’s barely even touched me. There was just the one kiss, the one time, and that was it. He’s been busy with military stuff and I’ve been busy with classes and work. We haven’t had time to meet in person until now and part of me completely loves Bailey for arranging this little double date.
“Hey,” I say casually when James gets close to the table, but he pulls me to my feet and wraps me in a tight hug. I wasn’t expecting that. I should just start expecting the unexpected because nothing with James is anything like I ever thought it would be.
And then he kisses me.
And I stop breathing for just a moment.
James is passionate and dark and fast and slow all at once. He takes his time kissing me, as if we aren’t in the middle of a crowded restaurant, as if he has all the time in the world, as if he doesn’t mind at all that our best friends are watching us.
“Um, excuse me,” we hear a voice and turn. The waiter is there. “Um, can I take your drink order?” I burst out laughing and the poor waiter blushes. “I’m sorry. My boss told me I had to come take your order now.”
“Two waters,” James says.
“Make mine a vodka tonic,” I say.
“Um, can I see your ID?” The waiter says. I pull away from James and fish it out of my pocket, then hold it out to him. Once we’ve settled the matter of my age, we sit down.
“I hear you’re looking for a roommate,” I say casually.
“Who told you that?”
“Bailey.”
“Did she mention my apartment is a studio?”
“Bailey!”
“Hey,” she holds up her hands in mock surrender. “I was just saying.”
“I think we all know what you were saying,” Cooper laughs.
Rolling my eyes, I grab a menu. The waiter returns and we all order food. Then we spend the next two hours just laughing.
I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard in my entire life. James is funny on his own, but put him with Cooper and it’s story after story after story. Although deployment ended on a sour note, at least for James, he has so many great stories and experiences to share.
The more I get to know him, the more I kind of completely adore him.
And the more I start to adore him, the more I start to freak out.
James and I are completely sexually compatible. We haven’t even been to bed yet and I know that. Our sexting and late-night phone sex is more than enough to show me how compatible we are.
But I have baggage.
Is that something he’s really going to want to deal with?
James might have lost his leg, but I don’t care about the physical. I still think he’s amazing and strong and handsome and cool.
Is he going to feel the same way when he learns all of my crap? When he hears all of my secrets? Is he going to feel the same way about me when he learns just how messed up I really am?
Even Bailey doesn’t know why I’m such a spaz about certain things. There are secrets I hold close to my heart, but the biggest is why I’m obsessed with school and why I’m constantly striving for perfection. She’s been ragging me for years to take fewer classes. I’m sure she’s thrilled I’m only at 15 hours for the semester, but she doesn’t know it’s because I took 18 and one was canceled because the professor got sick and no one could replace him.
She doesn’t know I tried to fill that time slot and my counselor told me to give it a rest.
She doesn’t know I filled that extra time with more hours at work.
She doesn’t know any of that because no one d
oes. I don’t tell anyone – not even Bailey – how few hours I sleep. I don’t tell anyone I can’t sleep even when I’m tired because my brain is constantly running through an endless to-do list. I can’t tell anyone the secrets I hold because my heart is wrapped up in them.
If I had to tell someone why I am the way I am, it would mean exposing my heart. If I had to tell someone, it would make me raw and vulnerable. If I had to tell someone, it would break me.
And I have to ask if James can handle that.
And I have to ask if he’s worth it.
But as I watch him and Coop telling these stories about their time overseas, about their years in the military, something tells me it’s time to take a chance.
Something tells me it’s time to go all or nothing.
Something tells me James is the one I’ve been waiting for.
Chapter 7
James
“Let me take you home.”
“I don’t know about all that,” Kasey laughs. She’s drunk, maybe just tipsy, and she’s holding onto my arm like it’s the only thing keeping her upright. She feels good against me, right.
“Do you want me and Coop to drive you?” Bailey asks with a smirk. Unlike Kasey, she’s completely, one hundred percent sober.
“You guys will just make out at the stoplights,” Kasey sighs loudly. “I’d better go with James.” She takes my hand and waves to Bailey, then tugs me outside of the restaurant. Waving to Cooper and Bailey, I gently guide Kasey to my truck and help her inside. She talks aimlessly on the way back to her place. She tells me all about her classes and her job and how she likes to volunteer at a local animal shelter.
Kasey talks about dancing like it’s as important to her as breathing.
She talks about how she’s never been in love, and how she might be with me, but she’s not really sure.
She talks about how crazy the future is.
She talks about her dad.
She talks about how he left and she thinks it was her fault.
She tells me he’s the reason she works so much, the reason she pushes herself just a little bit more.
As if working harder will bring him back.
As if more credit hours will make her childhood better.
Kasey opens up to me in ways she never has before and for a moment, I’m saddened that she’s so drunk. She’s not going to remember any of this tomorrow and I want to let her know I’ll be there for her without embarrassing her.
She doesn’t have to deal with this crap alone.
Does Kasey think she has to impress people? Does she feel like she’s going to let people down? Maybe she just wants her dad to see her now, to know that she was fine. He left, but she didn’t break. She’s strong. She’s powerful. She’s brave. He left, but it didn’t destroy her world.
She doesn’t have to impress anyone, but she’s sure as hell impressed me.
We get home and I help her unlock the door. I tell myself I’m not going to stay. I don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow, but I don’t want her to feel pressured into anything. Kasey is an amazing girl. More than amazing: she’s incredible. I’m really starting to care about her, but I don’t want her to think I’m taking advantage of her in any way.
So I stay outside as she stumbles into her tiny apartment. There are still a few random boxes in the living room. They’re Bailey’s, I’m guessing. Kasey flicks on lights and I hear her pouring a glass of water.
“I’m going to head home now, if you’re all right,” I call into the apartment.
She appears in the doorway.
“You aren’t going to stay the night?” Is it my imagination, or does Kasey sound a little let down? It’s got to be my imagination. Yeah, we’ve been texting and sexting for awhile now, but she’s drunk, and vulnerable, and it’s not a good idea.
“I should go home,” I say. Score one for being a good guy and doing the right thing.
“You should stay here,” she whispers.
I should go.
She steps forward and places her hands on my chest.
“You should stay,” she repeats.
I tuck a strand of her light blonde hair behind her ear. Somehow, I can’t pull my hand back. Instead, my palm cups her cheek and I feel her soft skin against mine. It’s been a long time since I felt like this with a woman. It’s been a long time since I felt calm.
Or safe.
“Don’t go,” Kasey whispers.
I step inside and close the door behind me. It snaps shut with a loud click and I realize I left the good-guy persona behind with my leg. It’s gone, never to be seen again. That’s not who I am anymore.
I’m not a good guy.
“You’re drunk,” I say.
She shakes her head and reaches for me.
“Not anymore. Just tipsy. My last drink was over an hour ago, and I had a bunch of water.”
“This is a bad idea.”
“It’s a good idea.”
“You might regret it.”
“I’ll never regret you.”
I kiss her. I grip her hair and tug her close and I kiss the hell out of Kasey. I kiss her harder than I did before, harder than I’ve ever kissed anyone, harder than I’ve ever dreamed was possible.
Soft.
Sweet.
Sugary.
She’s everything I want, need, crave.
“Bedroom,” she whispers.
“Here,” I say. Lifting her is effortless, even with a prosthetic. I don’t want to tell her I haven’t done this since I lost my leg. There hasn’t been another woman in my life since my deployment and I didn’t want to be with someone who was only interested in one night.
She’s the first.
I’m not as nervous as I should be. I’m not as anxious as I thought I would be.
In rehab, my therapist always warned me I would have mixed feelings when it was time to be intimate with someone again. She said some guys don’t have a problem jumping back into bed, but sometimes, the feelings of insecurity and weakness come shrieking back.
I carry Kasey to the kitchen and strip her down. Fuck, if she isn’t the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen. I steal a taste of her sweet nipples before I lift her again and place her on the counter.
“Is this okay?” She asks between kisses. “Are you comfortable like this?”
“Yeah,” I murmur. I don’t want talking about my leg to kill the mood, but I appreciate she thought of me, too. Even in the midst of our intimacy, she wants to make sure I’m okay. Could she be any more fucking perfect? “This is good. Good balance here, like this.”
“James, I can’t wait to feel you inside of me,” she murmurs.
“Do you have a condom?” I ask, suddenly realizing I left mine in the car.
“I’m on the pill. I’m clean,” she says, looking up at me. That’s all the clearance I need before I pull my own pants down, freeing my cock, and slide inside of her.
She’s wet and ready and fucking tight.
“James,” she moans, gripping my shoulders. Over and over I plunge into Kasey, and as I make love to her, my stress vanishes, my worries disappear. I’m not thinking about my leg or how hard it was to cope with its loss. I’m not thinking about how alone I felt when I came back from deployment. I’m not thinking about how hard it is to lose my career at such a young age.
I’m not thinking about anything but her and how perfect she is for me.
I kiss her neck, hold her cheek, stroke her hair. I pinch her nipples and she arches her back, thrusting her body closer to mine. Soon I’m getting close and I know she is, too. Her body is tense and tight against mine. Her breathing quickens, like she’s ready, like she needs this just as much as I do.
Reaching between us, I gently rub her clit as I thrust into her.
“More,” she groans. I rub harder, faster, until that’s it, until she’s coming and so am I, twin explosions in the dark of night.
Chapter 8
Kasey
He offers his hand and I take it, bl
ushing as I hop off my counter. I reach for my clothes, but James stops me and pulls me close. He hasn’t even pulled his pants back up yet, and I giggle.
“That was perfect,” he says.
Then he slips. He grabs the counter, but his pants are sort of tangled around his legs, and he falls backward.
“Fuck!” I screech, but I can’t do anything as he falls and hits the ground. He fucking fell, tripped, and now he’s on my kitchen floor. If I wasn’t sober before, I certainly am now, and I kneel down to help him up.
“I’m okay,” he says, and I can tell he’s embarrassed.
“Something tells me you’re trying to make me feel more comfortable about my own clumsiness,” I joke, and he gives me a little smile. The red in his cheeks betray the smile, though. He hates this. The last thing he probably wanted to think about tonight was his damn leg. He’s in his early 20s. He shouldn’t have to worry about something like whether he’s going to trip with his leg after sex.
“Don’t,” James says.
“What?”
“Don’t pity me.” He yanks his pants on.
“I don’t pity you.”
“Really? Because you went from looking like I was the best sex you’ve ever had to looking like you feel sorry for me. Never feel sorry for me, Kasey. I don’t feel bad for serving my country.”
I press my hands to James’ chest, running my fingers over the broad width of his body. He’s muscular and strong. I’m sure he’s smaller than he was before his injury, but that sort of thing doesn’t bother me. Never has.
“Best sex I’ve ever had, eh?”
“Don’t tell me it’s not true.”
“It’s true, but…”
“But what?”
“But I might need a round two. You know, just to make sure.”
He laughs and his body relaxes.
“Let’s go to my room,” I say, and I guide him over to my bedroom. Bailey’s door is shut.
“Is Bailey’s room empty now?” He asks, jerking his head toward it.
“Mostly,” I say. “She has a couple things left, but I think she’s coming to get them tomorrow.”
“Are you going to get a new roommate?”