Deny Me

by Fiona Cole

  And he let me get away with it. But he did it on his terms. Leaning in, he kept his eyes open as he bit into my bottom lip. He had to be able to feel my panting breaths against his lips when he licked the bite and finally kissed me. It wasn’t until I wrapped my arms around his neck and fell fully into his kiss, opening my lips and letting him in, that he closed his eyes and gave me everything he had.

  The sex started as frantic and fast then morphed into slow and passionate. He held me tightly to him, like he was afraid I was going to bolt. Instead, I let myself sink into him and feel everything about him. The way the light dusting of hair on his chest abraded my nipples, the way his heart beat harder and harder. I took it all in, cherishing every second of this first time. He was making love to me, and I had never let anyone do that before.

  He was my first.

  Without pulling his lips away, he reached behind me and urged me to rise higher on my knees so he could lift his dick and place it at my opening. I slowly lowered myself down onto him and swallowed his groan when he was fully inside me. Pulling back so I could catch my breath, I rested my forehead on his and began rocking back and forth. The pace started out slow and he let me take the lead, but as my clit kept brushing against the base of his dick, I began losing my rhythm.

  He gripped my hips and lifted me up and pulled me back down in slow, measured thrusts. He bit his way down my neck and to my breasts. Swirling his tongue around my nipple, he began moving harder, timing a bite and flick to my tip with each forceful push in.

  My pants turned to cries as the pace picked up and I worked with him, rocking my hips as he pulled me down faster and faster, pushing up harder and harder.

  The entire morning was swirling around inside me and mixing with the pressure building in my clit, waiting to explode out into my limbs. His arms wrapped around my back, holding me tighter to him, not leaving an inch of space between us. My nails scratched frantically across his shoulders and I tightened every muscle in my body, flexing my toes, holding my breath, racing to the euphoria I knew I could only find in his arms. My head fell back when he bit my breast and I came apart.

  Tears streamed down my cheeks, cries poured from my lips. Under it all, his fingers flexed into my shoulders as he groaned out his own orgasm. “I love you. I love you.” He moaned over and over into my chest. I didn’t know if he was even aware of saying it, but he chanted it like it was a light guiding him through the storm raging around us. And my heart exploded with my body, knowing that I could be that for him. Pride like I had never felt before washed over me that a man as amazing as Jameson could love me.

  Our muscles finally relaxed, and I collapsed around him, holding his head to my breast. The room was silent except for our panting breaths like we had just run a marathon. Swallowing hard, I wiped my cheeks on the side of my arms before I pulled back and got comfortable in the nook of his arms. I had a couple more hours until I had to meet my mom.

  While I hadn’t said the words back to him, it didn’t mean I hadn’t admitted the truth with my body. This room was my confessional, and I wasn’t ready to leave just yet.

  Twenty-Four

  When I walked into the salon at the hotel, my mother greeted me with a big smile, telling me I looked like I was glowing. “I’m impressed, considering all you drank last night.”

  Our conversation was interrupted when we went our separate ways to get massages and facials. When we sat down at a private table in the spa for lunch she finally brought up Jameson.

  “So, how serious are you and Jameson?” she asked lightly.

  “I mean, I’ve known him since I met Luella in college. We’ve all become very close over the years and formed our own little family traditions. You know I spend holidays with them when I can’t make it home.” I decided to keep my answers vague until I needed to go into more detail. Maybe she would keep things superficial and save me the lecture I felt coming.

  “Hmm.” I held my breath, watching her chew her sandwich, glancing up at me as she thought of her reply. “You seem awfully friendly for someone you consider family.”

  “Yeah.” That was all I had and I shoved a forkful of salad into my mouth to prevent myself from saying any more.

  “Evelyn, what is going on? Is it just a fling? Is that what this is?”

  “It’s not really a fling,” I muttered. “Things changed for us when we went to Lu’s wedding in Jamaica.”

  “Jamaica!” she shouted before looking around at the other guests and lowering her voice. “That was almost two months ago. Is this a relationship?”

  Rolling my shoulders back, I faced her head on. “You’ve taught me to never apologize for my lifestyle,” I reminded her. I tried to remember that, even while she bombarded me with disapproval. I was a twenty-nine-year-old woman and while we may have skipped the whole boyfriend situation in my teens, it didn’t give her the right to act like I was a teen in my first relationship now. “Yes. It’s a relationship. We’ve been good together. He treats me better than any other man I’ve ever been with. He respects me, and he respects my work. Is that so wrong that I want to be with a man like that?”

  “Evelyn, you can have any man you want. It doesn’t mean you should keep them. Keeping them leads to falling in love, and falling in love leads to heartache.”

  “It’s too late, Mom.” My lips fell to a pinched frown, because I knew she was going to be disappointed the most in my next words. “I love him.” I might not have been able to say it to him that morning, but that would change later. Because saying it eased some of the heaviness that sat on my chest. Saying it morphed my frown into a smile that lit up my whole face. “I love him.” I said it again just to hear the words aloud.

  She looked at me with concern glistening in her eyes. Everything she had ever warned me not to do, I was telling her I’d done. She looked at me as though I’d told her I was diagnosed with cancer and she was about to lose her only child. But maybe me falling in love was the equivalent. She’d lost herself when she lost my father. After a long pause she finally opened her mouth to say something and I braced myself.

  “Are you ladies ready for your pedicures?” the bubbly attendant asked, interrupting at the most perfect time.

  I stared at my mom while she composed herself, not taking her glistening eyes off of me. The woman’s smile became a little bit more forced as the silence continued.

  Deciding to save us all from the weird moment we seemed to be frozen in, I spoke first. “Yes, thank you. The lunch was delicious.”

  “Great!” She clapped her hands, snapping my mom out of her daze.

  I forced a reassuring smile at my mom before we turned and were led to two seats where bubbling water awaited us. It was easy to push everything aside when your feet were immersed in heaven and the ladies assigned to us were holding up the conversation.

  “What brings you two beautiful ladies to the spa today?”

  “It’s my daughter’s birthday this weekend, and I flew in from California to visit,” my mom answered, her tone more relaxed.

  “Oh, California! I’ve never been there,” my mom’s pedicurist said. “How did you end up in Cincinnati from California?”

  “I went to college here.”

  “She’s a fashion designer,” my mom said with pride.

  “Oh, girl. I love fashion. I bet that’s an amazing job,” the lady working my feet chimed in.

  The conversation progressed about what kind of clothes they liked and who their favorite designers were. My mom kept looking over at me, smiling with pride. When one of the ladies recognized my work, making my mother’s chest puff up a little.

  “Oh my god. I ordered one of your new designs off this website last week! I’m in love with the patterns you used. They’re so bold.” The woman looked up from putting the top coat on my toenails with wide eyes.

  My mom leaned forward like she was sharing a secret with the woman at her feet. “She has an opportunity to go to Italy to work with a top designer. She’s very talented.” Sitti
ng up tall in her seat, she turned to face me. “I’m so damn proud of her.”

  But in the middle of that statement, my heart sank. At the mention of Italy, this morning flashed in my mind. The way Jameson’s arms held me tight as his head pressed to my breasts. The way his words, telling me I was the most talented artist he knew, made my chest swell to exploding. Or how he said he loved me made my body flood with heat with the need to say it back. It all surrounded me as my mom stared at me, thinking I was going to accept the position in Italy.

  But fingering the charm he had gently placed around my neck this morning, I knew I was going to turn it down, and I didn’t know how I was going to admit that to my mom. But no matter what happened, I would be in Jameson’s arms later that night. We had pushed our lunch to dinner so I could see my mom off to the airport and not miss out. Despite the dread mixing in my stomach, I smiled, imagining his arms around me and his face when I told him I loved him.

  I stepped out of the shower at the spa with a towel wrapped around me, and made my way to my locker next to my mom and started getting dressed. She’d waited until she was fully dressed to ask the question I knew she had been dying to ask since we got there. “Have you called and let them know you’re accepting yet? Time is running out, and you need to start making plans for your move.” Her words were spoken with conviction, and hope that if she pretended there was no doubt, or man that I’d admitted I loved holding me back, then it would be true.

  I froze in the middle of buttoning my shirt. It was only a moment, but I knew she noticed. Still she remained silent, waiting for me to prove the doubt wrong. Swallowing hard, I tried to ignore the way my heart was pounding against my chest. I focused on slipping the buttons through the holes in my top and muttered into my chest, “I’m not accepting it.”

  “Excuse me?”

  I knew she’d heard me when I looked up and met with her narrowed eyes. “I’m not accepting the position,” I said with more confidence.

  Her nostrils flared above her pinched lips as we had a stare-off. She was waiting for me to change my answer, and I was waiting for her anger to be released. I never wanted to disappoint her, and I knew she wanted me to take this job, but I couldn’t leave Cincinnati right then. I had too much there for me. “It’s because of him, isn’t it?” Her words were low like they were all she could let out between her lips because if she opened them any more she would’ve released the storm of emotions brewing in her eyes.

  “No, Mom. It’s because I don’t want to leave Cincinnati. It’s my home.” I denied it having anything to do with Jameson, but the way he looked at me and said I love you was all I could see when I thought of Italy.

  “No, Evelyn. You are your home. You are all you need, no matter where you go.”

  “Mom, Cincinnati has become my home. I like it here. I like the people here.”

  “No. You fell in love,” she spit the word with disgust. “I gave up everything for your father. I gave up my degree and became a stay-at-home mother to support you, and look what it got me.” She waited for me to answer, but I just stood there, her words starting to crack my confidence and instill her doubt. “Nothing but a broken heart.” She answered for me. “I was left broken and alone with no way of supporting you. We struggled so hard until I was able to get myself back together again.”

  “I know, Mom. I know. But it isn’t always like that.” I tried to plead with her, but memories of watching her wallow in her anger and struggle with part-time jobs until she finished her degree hammered away at me, reminding me of why I only needed myself.

  “But what if it doesn’t work out? What about when it doesn’t work out and you miss this opportunity? What then?” she asked. “Or what about when another opportunity arises? Will you give that one up too? How much are you willing to sacrifice of yourself for another person?”

  I wanted to tell her that Jameson always supported me. But unbidden, the memory of his initial anger when I told him of Italy came barreling in. The way he asked me to stay for him. I tried to push it away and answered one of her questions about if it ended, ignoring the latter half. “Then I’ll move on.”

  She threw her arms in the air in defeat, as though all her lessons to me in childhood had failed. “You think it’s so easy? Well, it’s not. Love will eat you up and spit out only bits and pieces, and it’s up to you to get it back. All those opportunities you passed up while holding on to a foolish dream will be gone, and you will be left with nothing.” Her face softened along with her tone. “Baby, you’ve got your whole life to fall in love. I’d hate for you to walk away from a once in a lifetime opportunity for something that may not be around in six months.”

  Her pleading words formed a crack in my mental image of Jameson’s words. It was when she dropped her anger and softened her tone to show her real fear for me that her words shattered the image I had and began falling apart. Tears filled my eyes as I tried to figure out what was going on inside me. I tried to reach for the pieces of what I’d imagined between me and Jameson, and put them all back together, to see it more clearly. But it was getting lost in her words reminding me of who I was and that I never held back for anyone. That by holding back, I would lose myself the same way she did.

  I gave one more weak effort, trying to say the words aloud, trying to remind myself of the broken image of Jameson. “Mom…” But my voice broke off. A couple of months wasn’t enough to hold up against years of independence. It wasn’t enough to hold up against everything I had been taught. Jameson’s smile floated away and was replaced by my mom pleading with me to be independent and grab on to success.

  She reached out and clasped my hands. “Baby, don’t do this,” she begged. “Don’t give up on this for a chance at love. You have your whole life, but this will only happen now. Don’t give this up. Please.”

  A tear fell down my cheek and I dropped my head to hide it. She was right. I was willing to give up my dreams on a chance. Who knew what the future held, but Italy was for sure. I nodded, giving in to her words.

  “You’re right, Mom. I didn’t think it through.” I capitulated, looking up and meeting her sad eyes.

  “Aw, my baby. I know it’s hard. But just imagine how much it would hurt if you waited and let yourself fall deeper in love and then lost it. Along with the opportunity,” she soothed me with her hand on my cheek, wiping my tears away.

  Taking a shuddering breath, I only nodded. I couldn’t handle any more words. She wrapped her arms around me and rocked me back and forth, brushing her hands down my hair.

  “I’m sorry, baby. I always wanted to save you from this.”

  I didn’t even know what to think anymore. My heart was crushed, and I already missed the way Jameson’s arms held me. But I had to remember who I was. I was Evelyn Valero, and I put myself on hold for no one. Even someone who made my heart race.

  I had just become lost in the moments over the past few months. It was time to set it all aside and remember myself first. No matter how much I felt like I was dying inside.

  As soon as I stepped into my apartment, I closed the door and slid down to the floor. I curled into a ball and sobbed into my knees. I don’t know how long I sat there, the contents of my purse spilled out on the hardwood next to me, looking just like the mess of my life. Once I calmed the flow of tears, I stood up and moved to my bed. I stripped down and burrowed under the covers, staring at my phone, wanting to call Jameson, but knowing, starting then, that I wouldn’t be able to lean on him anymore.

  I had to cut the ties right away.

  Pulling the covers over my head, I let the tears fall as I tried to remind myself who I was.

  I am Evelyn Valero. I need no one but myself.

  But it all sounded wrong, because usually the words came with a feeling a strength and pride. Instead, I was sitting in the bottom of a pit that I had never felt before. It was an unfamiliar feeling and it made remembering who I was even harder.

  Twenty-Five

  Sunday:

  Me (
5:00pm): Hey Lu! I’m not going to make it tonight. My mom’s flight was delayed.

  Jameson (7:04pm): Hey Beautiful. We missed you tonight. Do you want me to stop by on my way home? I can bring you some food.

  Missed Call (2) Jameson King (7:53pm)

  Jameson (7:57pm): Is everything okay, Evelyn?

  Missed Call (1) Jameson King (10:39pm)

  Monday:

  Missed Call (2) Jameson King (12:53pm)

  Jameson (1:03pm): I’m starting to get worried.

  Jameson (1:03pm): Please call me.

  Missed Call (2) Jameson King (9:46pm)

  Jameson (11:26pm): What the fuck is going on Evelyn?

  Jameson (11:32pm): If this has to do with what I said Sunday morning, you know I won’t take it back. But please at least talk to me about it. Don’t run.

  Tuesday:

  Missed Call (1) Jameson King (3:24pm)

  Luella (5:22pm): You wanna talk about it?

  Me (6:13pm): No.

  Luella (6:15pm): Well at least I can tell Jameson you’re alive. Love you.

  Wednesday:

  Missed Call (1) Jameson King (2:55pm)

  Thursday:

  No missed calls.

  Friday:

  No missed Calls.