Imaginary Grace

by Anne Holster

  “Sorry,” I said, “I don’t have any spare clothes that are big enough for you.”

  “That’s, okay,” he said. “I’ll just have to suffer, I guess.”

  “Hey,” I said, changing the subject, “when will you play your guitar for me again?”

  “Anytime,” he said, as his hand slid up my side. “Why don’t you come by tomorrow afternoon after you finish with your paper?”

  “Okay,” I said, thinking to myself that it would make three days in a row. A record.

  “Good.” He smiled, then pulled himself up to a sitting position. “Now, I can deal with your tiny bed, and I can deal with you not having any spare clothes for me, but I’ve got to at least brush my teeth if I’m going to stay here, so either scrounge around for a spare toothbrush or let me use yours.”

  I laughed when he said that. “I don’t have a guest toothbrush, being that you’re my first overnight guest, so I guess you’ll just have to use mine.” I motioned to the bathroom. “It’s the pink one.”

  I watched, drinking in every inch of him as he walked across the room and into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Then I threw myself back on the pile of pillows with a huge grin on my face. I couldn’t believe that he was really here, in my room, actually sleeping over.

  Oh man, what was Beth going to say? I didn’t have long to think about it, because a minute later he opened the bathroom door, already talking as he did so. “One other thing – you’re going to have to get rid of some of these pillows or we’re never going to fit.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, pulled off his work boots, and then climbed in next to me, tossing pillows randomly onto Beth’s bed until there were only two left. “There, much better,” he said as he moved on top of me and started kissing me again.

  It was short-lived because a few minutes later I heard Beth’s key in the lock. Tanner slid to the side and we directed our eyes on the TV.

  “Okay, spill it,” she said as she flipped on the lights, “I want details…” Her voice trailed off as she saw him lying on my bed. “Uh…”

  If I hadn’t been so embarrassed I would have laughed out loud. For once it was Beth who’d stuck her foot in her mouth. That role was usually reserved for me.

  “Details?” Tanner said, laughing, then looked at me. “Come on, Grace, give her the details. This should be good!”

  I felt the heat rising to my face and knew I was turning three shades of red, but Beth, obviously drunk, burst out laughing. “S-sorry,” she slurred, “didn’t realize he was still here.”

  “Hey, Beth,” Tanner said. “What happened to Beach Patrol?”

  Beth laughed again. “Um, if you mean my friend Adam, I left him back at the party with Gary.”

  “I thought Gary left hours ago,” I commented.

  “Yeah, he did, but then he came back later for some reason.”

  I felt Tanner stiffen slightly at the mention of Gary. I looked at Beth to see if she noticed, but she was already digging through all the pillows lying on her bed like an animal foraging for food. “How come all your pillows are over here?” she slurred, tossing them onto the floor.

  Neither of us answered her. “Aha!” she exclaimed, holding up her pajamas, then headed for the bathroom. On her way, she reached over and flipped the light off. “There you go.” she said, then closed the door behind her.

  “She’s pretty wrecked,” I said as I sat up and reached into my dresser drawer for a ponytail holder. I was gathering my hair in my hands when I heard him say, “Don’t do that.”

  “Don’t do what?”

  “Put your hair up,” he whispered as he gently pulled my arm down. “I like it loose.”

  “You do?”

  “Oh, yeah,” he said, pulling me against him. Then I felt his fingers moving through my hair.

  Beth emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later and climbed into bed. “Are you guys going to keep that on all night?” she said, motioning to the TV. “Because I’m beat.”

  “Nah, we can shut it,” Tanner said, picking up the remote. A moment later the room was completely dark.

  “Good nighty,” Beth slurred as I heard her turn over.

  I pulled the covers down and we both slid under them. Once situated in my tiny single bed, Tanner whispered, “I hope you don’t mind, but there’s no way I’m sleeping in these.”

  Before I could answer him, I heard a zipper, then felt him maneuvering himself out of his jeans. He tossed them onto the floor, leaving him in only boxers and a t-shirt. “Much better,” he whispered. Then, just as he was about to wrap his arms around me, I put a hand on his chest, stopping him. “What?” he asked, clearly confused, and when I didn’t answer, he asked again.

  I reached down, grabbing the edge of his t-shirt with my free hand and whispered, “Um…can you take this off too…?”

  He didn’t say anything, just pulled back and slipped the t-shirt over his head. Then he moved back towards me so that his forehead was touching mine and whispered, “Better?”

  “Much,” I murmured, as I snuggled in close to him and moved my hands up against his smooth, rock-hard chest. I lay there like that with both of my palms resting against his chest when suddenly a thought that I had had earlier occurred to me again. What if he tried something? If he did I had no one to blame but myself, not after I’d asked him to take off his shirt.

  I couldn’t imagine that he would, not with Beth only a few feet away, but I still wondered. What would I do if he did make a move? As it turned out, I was worrying for nothing; several minutes passed and it became clear that he was there just to sleep. Suddenly, and for the first time, I found myself getting annoyed. Why wasn’t he trying something? Was there something wrong with me? In a flash, all my insecurities came bubbling to the surface.

  Stop it! He’s here, isn’t he? I decided to force the doubts from my mind and just enjoy the moment for what it was, and that’s exactly what I did as I drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter 38

  Tanner

  “Tanner…Tanner,” I heard Grace whisper.

  I just kind of grunted at her, then said, “Wha…” without opening my eyes. Man, who would have thought that sleeping in this tiny little bed would be so comfortable?

  “Tanner,” Grace whispered again, and this time she started squirming around. It was then I realized that I was practically on top of her with my legs wrapped all around her. She wasn’t able to move.

  I lifted my head up. “Oh, sorry,” I said as I moved off her.

  “Okay, that’s better. You were starting to squish me.”

  “What time is it?” I asked, looking around for a clock.

  “It’s a little after ten.”

  “Oh, shit! Sorry. You wanted to get up early to work on your paper.”

  “It’s okay, I’ve got time,” she said.

  I stretched, then leaned my body over hers to look around for my shirt, which I finally spotted balled up on the floor next to the bed. I reached for it and pulled it over my head, then lay back down with a contented sigh. I could have laid in this little bed with her all day long.

  Grace didn’t say anything, but I could feel her eyes on me. “I should get going,” I said, turning onto my side. But instead of getting up I placed one hand on her hip. “Your hair,” I said, motioning with my chin. “It looks all wild again.” Her eyes went soft as I moved my hand up from her hip, slowly tracing the length of her body, and pushed the stray strands away from her face.

  “Is Beth here?” I finally asked, looking over at the crumpled pile of blankets on her bed. “I can’t tell from here.”

  “Yeah,” Grace said, stretching like a cat, “but she should be waking up soon.” She stopped mid-stretch and looked at me. “Hey, are you still going to play your guitar for me later?”

  I’d forgotten about that, but found myself pleased by the idea. “Yeah
, come over when you’re done with your work. I’ll be around all day.” I reached over the side of the bed for my jeans, then slipped them on before kicking the covers off. Don’t think I’ve ever been this modest in my life, I thought as I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed. A second later I felt Grace settling there next to me.

  Staring down at our bare feet, she started running her foot across the top of mine. “This was fun.”

  “Yeah,” I said as I nudged her shoulder with mine, “but next time I’ll have to remember to pack my own toothbrush.”

  She laughed softly. “I didn’t mind you using mine.” We stayed like that for a few minutes, then I reluctantly pulled my work boots on and stood up, looking around for my jacket. I found it lying across one of the dressers.

  “Do you have a hat?” I asked, running my fingers through my hair. “Like a baseball cap or something?”

  “Now that I have,” she said as she went over to the closet and returned with a Mets cap.

  “Mets?” I questioned.

  “Yeah, Mets. Is something wrong with that?” she smiled, her hand resting on her hip.

  “Not at all,” I said as I placed the cap backwards on my head. “Not at all.” Then I put my arms around her waist, lacing my fingers together against the small of her back. “See you later then?” I asked as I bent down to kiss her.

  “Yeah,” she said, managing to look shy and sexy at the same time, “see you later.” I kissed her again when we reached the door, then slipped out of the room.

  It was a long walk back to my apartment, but I didn’t mind; I felt more rested than I had in I couldn’t remember when. I thought about Grace the whole way. I was genuinely surprised at how much I liked being with her; I was even looking forward to her coming over today, which was not like me at all, especially considering I’d just spent the whole night with her. Of course, I’d only said yes to the sleepover because I knew Beth would be coming home; I knew nothing could happen.

  When I’d first put Operation Grace into action, sex wasn’t an issue. I didn’t want the situation to be any more complicated than necessary, and besides, I had no interest in sleeping with some goody two-shoes. But the longer the charade went on, the stranger it looked that I wasn’t at least trying to get in her pants. But no matter how much I wanted to—because by now I really did want to-- I couldn’t. It just wouldn’t be right to go there and then end up ditching her. You’re starting to sound like a chick, I finally told myself, just enjoy it for what it is, whatever it is.

  When I got home, Scott was wolfing down a sesame bagel with cream cheese. “What the fuck happened to you last night?” he asked.

  Fortunately, I was prepared for Scott’s onslaught of questions, and I’d decided on the walk home that I was just going to be honest – well, sort of. “I was with Grace,” I said matter-of-factly, and saw from his expression that my candor had caught him off guard. I pulled out a stool and sat down. “Are there any more bagels?”

  “What do you mean you were with Grace?” he said as he handed me a cinnamon raisin.

  “I don’t know how to make it any clearer. I was hanging out with Grace last night.” I reached for the knife and cream cheese. “As far as I’m concerned, Grace is my girlfriend until the money is in my hands.”

  “And you decided this when? Five minutes before we were leaving?” he pointed out.

  “Correct,” I stated.

  “Alrighty then,” he said, clearly confused by my straightforward attitude. He was silent for a moment, then he leaned conspiratorially across the counter. “Hey, didja bag her?”

  “Nope,” I said, an edge to my voice. “Any other questions?”

  “Uh, no, I guess not,” he said, leaning back. “But you missed a wild night last night. We closed the place.”

  “As usual,” I said, ripping off a piece of bagel. “You going to the gym later?”

  He looked over his shoulder at the clock. “Yeah, in about an hour.”

  “All right, I’ll be ready in an hour,” I told him, then I polished off the rest of my bagel and headed for my room.

  When we got back from the gym, Scott got a call from some girl he’d met the night before and disappeared into his room so he could chat her up in private. I took a quick shower, then went around tidying the apartment. Neither Scott nor I were slobs so the place usually looked decent, but I still found myself picking up newspapers and wiping down the countertops. I’d gotten a text from Grace earlier saying she’d be over around four o’clock.

  A few minutes later, Scott reappeared. “What are you doing?” he asked, his brow furrowed like it always did when he thought someone was nuts.

  “What do you mean?” I said, looking up at him, “Nothing.”

  “Are you…cleaning? Wait a minute…is Grace coming over? Are you cleaning for Grace?”

  “No, I’m not cleaning.” I said, ignoring his ballbusting tone. “I spilled something on the counter, and I was just wiping it up. That okay with you?”

  He shrugged, seemingly satisfied with my answer, then announced he was going to the laundromat. “You wanna come?”

  “Nah, did my laundry at my parents’,” I lied, relieved that Grace and I would have the place to ourselves. As soon as he disappeared into his room—presumably to collect his dirty clothes-- I settled onto the couch and turned on the TV to wait for her.

  At a few minutes after four, there was a knock at the door. “Shit,” I muttered as I crossed the room, annoyed that Scott was still home. When I opened the door, Grace’s head was turned to face the street where four cop cars were speeding by with lights and sirens blaring. She didn’t even realize I’d opened the door, and when she turned back around and saw me I got to see her eyes light up. So fucking cool. She had her hair all loose again, the way I liked it.

  “Come on in,” I said as I moved to the side. She was dressed very casually, with dark gray sweats that were sort of rolled up to just below the knee, a white down vest with a furry hood and funky-looking black work boots. Underneath the vest she wore a light-blue, fitted thermal similar to the one she had had on the night before.

  “Have a seat,” I said smiling as she slipped off the vest and placed it into my outstretched hand. I hung it on one of the hooks by the door, then joined her on the couch.

  “How was Beth feeling this morning?”

  Grace laughed. “Oh, she was fine. I’ve seen her a lot worse.” She glanced around the room. “So where’s your guitar? You said you’d play for me.”

  For some reason, I didn’t want Scott to know I was playing for her; in fact, I didn’t want him to know she was there at all. “It’s in my room. Come on, I’ll play for you there.”

  As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. What was I doing, bringing her into my room? But it was too late; she had already stood and was heading down the hall and there was nothing I could do but follow her. After closing the bedroom door behind me, I grabbed my guitar and sat down on the bed across from her.

  “What do you want to hear?”

  “Umm…I don’t know. Surprise me, but play something mellow.”

  “Okay,” I said thinking for a minute, and then I started to play. I played for a while before she stopped me.

  “You’re really good. I don’t understand why you’re not playing with a band.”

  Don’t lie, I told myself. “Sometimes I do,” I said simply, then started playing again.

  “No, really,” she persisted, “you should find some other musicians and start a group or something.”

  I had to stop this conversation because I really didn’t want to keep skirting the truth, so I did the only thing I could think of to distract her. I stood up and put my guitar down, leaning it against the bed. Then I moved in front of her and gently pushed her backward until she was lying on her back.

  “Um, what are you doing?” she
asked.

  “Changing the subject,” I said as I leaned down and grabbed both her wrists in one hand, lifted them above her head, and held them there. Then I brought my lips to her ear and whispered, “Let’s talk about something else.”

  She looked like she was about to ask another question, but I started to kiss her, making her forget what she was saying. I should’ve stopped as soon as I had her distracted enough, but I didn’t. After a few minutes, I realized that I still had her hands secured above her head so I let go of them and she brought them down, running her nails lightly down my back. As I slid my hands under her shirt and up her sides, I wondered if she was wearing that white cotton bra I’d noticed in class that day.

  She did the same, pulling up my shirt so she could run her nails along my bare skin. My breath caught in my throat, and I cursed myself for putting myself in this position. She sounded slightly out of breath herself as she tugged on the edges of my shirt and whispered, “Take this off.”

  I stared down at her, pushing the doubts from my head, then pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it to the floor. She came up on her elbows and we inched our way to the center of the bed. As I began kissing her again, I felt her fingers digging harder into the flesh of my back.

  A moment later my hands were back up her shirt and touching the edges of her bra. It felt like soft cotton, and it was driving me crazy. I had to know if it was what I imagined. Finally, unable to take it any longer I leaned onto my side so that I was resting on my elbow and whispered, “Take your shirt off…” Then I held in a breath, waiting for a reaction.

  At first she just stared at me with her lips slightly parted and her chest rising and falling. Then she slowly reached down, grabbing the edges of her thermal. She stayed like that for a few more seconds as if thinking about it, then she slowly pulled it over her head.

  My eyes widened ever so slightly as I took in the sight of her - it was just as I’d imagined. How could plain white cotton be so damn sexy?