Twist

by Kylie Scott

  HIM: Holy shit. You've done that?

  ME: No, but I've always wanted to. Lack of private available washing machine. You know, I've heard of phone sex, but not email sex.

  HIM: Getting a little heated?

  ME: Yes. You?

  HIM: Definitely. Can't talk now, ordering a washing machine.

  Joe had obviously fibbed about only doing a few days of work with his dad and a couple of shifts at the Dive Bar each week. It soon became apparent that the guy bordered on being a workaholic. If I hadn't been in town, he probably would have been renovating the soon-to-be studio apartments whenever he wasn't serving drinks downstairs. With something to prove to his father now too, I doubt I could have kept him away from the place if I tried--and I didn't.

  No one else seemed surprised to find us there at it again come Monday.

  Joe and Andre got busy spreading sealant around, getting the kitchen and bathroom spaces ready for tiling and cabinetry installation. Andre, as the owner of the building, was every bit as committed to the renovations as Joe was. Meanwhile, I ripped out what remained of the old fittings in the last room down the hall.

  Funnily enough, destroying things continued to make me happy. A certain kind of satisfaction could be found in emptying a room of all its detritus. Clearing out the old and ushering in the new. It might have been symbolic of my life, or it might have just been my underlying violent tendencies. I don't know.

  Despite our sleazy sex plans, we were talked into attending a nighttime gathering at Lydia and Vaughan's. Pizza and beer were on the schedule. The happy couple lived in a bungalow not far from Joe's folks' place.

  On our way over, I thought about how despite my dislike of the outdoors I couldn't get enough of all the trees in Coeur d'Alene. The greenery both blew my mind and soothed it. Seattle was great, but this was different, less crowded and more peaceful. With Joe beside me, a lot of my fears faded. But more than that, some stronger part of me woke up. Coming to this place, meeting Joe, it had all helped to wake me up.

  I loved the feeling I got, leaning my forehead against the cool glass of Joe's passenger-side window, gazing up at the greenery and the mountains in the distance. Taking in the colors of the sky as the sun sank low. I'd been focused on being hidden, staying inside for so long. It was like I was looking out at the world for the first time in years, and the view was dazzling.

  Maybe my days of being a recluse were done.

  Lydia, the blond bombshell, opened the door and welcomed us with, "Boys are out back at the fire pit, girls inside."

  "It's tradition," explained Joe, giving the nape of my neck a gentle squeeze before ambling off to be with his bros.

  "Oh." Nervousness stirred inside me--I hadn't spent any real time alone with his friends before. Never mind, I'd be fine. Of course I would be. "Okay."

  "Down with penises." A smiling Nell heckled Joe from a big old leather couch. "Boo."

  "You're the worst," said Rosie. "Get outside."

  Oddly enough, Joe seemed unperturbed. "Ladies."

  "Let's get you a drink," said Lydia with a light touch on my elbow.

  I followed her through the open-style lounge and dining room, into the kitchen area, just as Joe slipped out the door. A glass door led out onto a back patio, flickering flames and the soft sounds of a couple acoustic guitars floating in from beyond. Vaughan, Andre, and Pat were already gathered outside around the fire pit.

  "Wine, beer, juice, or water?" asked Lydia.

  "Beer, thank you."

  "Done." She passed me a bottle from the fridge, while popping off its top.

  "Thank you."

  We each took one of the remaining single chairs in the lounge. After working on the renovation all day, it felt wonderful to get off my feet. "Into the Mystic" by Van Morrison was playing softly on the record player. Yes, real live vinyl. These people were far cooler than me. My fingers worried the outside seam on my black jeans. All of a sudden my mind was blank. I had no idea what to say so I sipped my cold beer instead.

  Nell pouted. "I want a beer."

  "There, there." Rosie patted Nell's small round stomach with a smile. "You're having a baby. No fun for you."

  "Meh. I don't need that stuff. I'm high on life and pregnancy hormones. A toast," said Nell, holding her bottle of water up high. "To new friends."

  "Good one." Lydia drank deep from her beer.

  "Welcome, Alex," said Rosie.

  "Thanks." I followed her good example. Nothing like cold craft beer to soothe a throat weary from shouting. "Is the bar closed tonight?"

  "No," said Nell. "Eric, Boyd, Curt, and Taka are on duty tonight."

  "We need nights off now and then," said Lydia, curling her feet up underneath her.

  "Sanity breaks." Rosie smiled. She was a beautiful dark-skinned woman with a head full of curls that I would have died for. Mine fell straight and boring. With Nell's coppery-colored hair, freckles, and colorful old-style tattoos, the two women were a gorgeous sight to behold. Lazy me, I'd just chucked on jeans and a long-sleeve T-shirt. I should have made more of an effort. These were Joe's friends, I wanted them to think well of me.

  "Speaking of breasts," said Nell.

  "We were speaking of breasts?" asked Lydia.

  "We are now. Mine are driving me nuts," moaned Nell, eyeing her impressive set. The white chef's coat was of course gone tonight, leaving a body-hugging green woolen dress. "Ever since the tit fairy visited I feel like I'm going to lose my balance and fall on my face. Accidentally gouge someone's eye out with an escaped nipple or something. I don't even have anyone to appreciate them."

  With a smile, Rosie wrapped her arm around the woman's shoulders, giving her a quick squeeze. "I think your tits are great."

  "Aw, thanks," said Nell with a certain sadness in her eyes. "At any rate, I can't wait to return to normal after I finish feeding the baby."

  "You might never go back to normal," said Rosie, stopping to wet her throat with a sip of white wine. "I used to be a B at best, but I've never gotten back below a C. One of my friends is still a doubleD eight years later."

  "What?" With a soft wail, Nell inspected her breasts and baby bulge. "There's nothing natural about pregnancy. I don't care what they say."

  "True."

  "Joe keeps sneaking looks at you over his shoulder," Lydia said to me, and gave me a wink.

  "It's cute, isn't it?" said Nell. "They get so protective when they meet one they like. I miss that."

  With a frown, Rosie rubbed the pregnant woman's arm. "You'll find someone else, Nell."

  "I don't know." She sighed. "Honestly, I'm not sure I even want to. I had my one big once-in-a-lifetime sort of love with Pat. But I took it for granted. Well, we both did. Maybe we were too young or something. I don't know. We haven't properly talked since I told him about the baby. I get nods and that's it. Dude'll barely look at me."

  "Maybe he's giving you and Eric space to try and be a family." Again, Rosie slipped an arm around the woman, getting close. "Eric has pulled his act together a lot in the last few months."

  Making a noise close to strangulation, Nell let her head fall back and stared at the ceiling. "Give it up. We drunkenly bumped hips once by accident. I love him dearly, but only as a friend."

  "I hate thinking of you doing everything on your own," said Lydia.

  "You planning on abandoning me?" The redhead raised an eyebrow.

  "No, of course not!"

  Nell shrugged. "I have you, Vaughan, Rosie, Boyd, Joe, Eric, and his parents all dying to help. Relax. We're covered."

  "Fine."

  With a broad smile, Nell rested her head against Rosie's shoulder. "We're lucky, really. Me and Lydia Junior."

  Eyes wide, Lydia laughed. "You would not name the baby after me."

  "I might." Another shrug. "Sure, it'll be rough if he's a boy, but he'll get used to it. It'll be character building."

  "Very funny." Lydia gave her a sour smile.

  "She won't even give us a hint about what she's
thinking about for a name," said Rosie, tipping back her glass of wine and taking another mouthful.

  "Hell no," said Nell. "You can all know after the fact. Then everyone just has to suck it up and accept it. Tell people beforehand and everyone puts their two cents in. I'm not having people go, 'Oh, I guess that's a nice enough name ... for a serial killer.'"

  "We would never say that." Brows high, Lydia seemed almost insulted.

  "Vaughan would."

  "Yes, well, your brother's an idiot."

  "You're in love with him," Nell pointed out.

  "I'm an idiot too. Have you not noticed?"

  Rosie and I chuckled as I eased back into my chair. Praise the Lord, I was actually relaxing around strangers. Valerie would be so proud if she could see me socializing like a normal person. Take that, anxiety. The world could be so noisy and full of static. It was easy to get lost and confused. But maybe dealing with it was just a matter of practice.

  "So, Alex. Tell us all about yourself," ordered Nell.

  "Yeah," Lydia piped in. "What are your friends at home like? What do you do for a living?"

  "And what's the deal with you and Joe?" Rosie waggled her eyebrows.

  Crap. Three sets of eyes focused on me, waiting. Doubt didn't creep back in, it fucking moon-walked onto the stage. My mind was an empty corridor, lined with locked doors. Behind those doors were all the different things I could say. Torture, thy name is polite conversation with strangers.

  No, fuck this. I was queen of my own fate. There'd be no letting Joe down, not tonight. I swallowed hard, wetting my Arizona-dry mouth.

  "Um, well ... I'm a graphic designer," I began.

  They all smiled, nodded, encouraging me to go on.

  I could do this.

  *

  Rain had started falling when we decided to drive back to the hotel. Since the men could no longer sit outside and things were so awkward between Pat and Nell, the night ended rather abruptly.

  "You have an okay time?" he asked.

  There was something soothing about the sound of the windshield wipers. The hazy way the streetlights looked through the raindrops.

  "Yes, I did." It had taken me a while to get comfortable with the ladies' interest in me as Joe's latest paramour. And of course they cared about Joe. Also, they were women so they wanted the nitty-gritty. I gave it to them, up to a point. We had a few more drinks, a couple of slices of pizza, and a pleasant time was had by all. Including me, surprisingly enough. Sharing yourself with people, the right people, felt good. To make new friends also felt good. Maybe there was something to this saying-yes business after all.

  "They were nice."

  "Good." He smiled.

  "Actually they were better than nice," I continued. "They were cool as hell."

  A pause.

  "I said I'd tell you about my issue with bathrooms." Fingers fidgeted in my lap. Maybe this was my night for sharing, for getting it all out there. Miraculously enough, I'd shared with the women and lived to tell the tale. This was bigger, but it needed to get out of me. Courage would be required, but I'd already indulged in a little Dutch courage back at the party. It would have to be enough. "If you want to know."

  Side-eyes.

  "It's not pretty," I warned. "I feel like I want to share it with you, though..."

  "I'd like to know."

  I licked my lips, nodded. "Val and I have been tight since we were kids, you know that. I talked about it in my emails. She had a sex change after high school. It's not my story to tell, so I don't normally talk about it with others. But if I'm going to tell you about this..."

  "Okay."

  "We went to a pretty conservative school. Queer kids were given a hard time. Way worse than any of the crap I copped for just being awkward and generally uncool." I shoved my hands beneath my thighs to still them. "When Val was Vince, it was pretty obvious he was into guys. And why should he have to hide it, right?"

  Back and forth went the windshield wipers.

  "Anyway, some testosterone-fueled bastards decided to hurt him," I said, keeping my voice nice and calm, trying to distance myself from the images inside my head. It didn't work. "People can be so cruel, thoughtless. Clueless about consequences. Especially kids. They ganged up on him, beat him up in the boy's bathroom."

  "Fuck," muttered Joe.

  "Black eye, busted lip, bruised ribs. He was a mess."

  His grip tightened on the wheel. "Assholes."

  "Yeah." I gave him a ghost of a smile. Stupid. This was nothing to smile about. "Val's parents were pretty useless, not really present. He got along better with mine. I convinced him to stay at my house that night, so I could look after him, try and cheer him up. We watched movies, ate popcorn, and kept putting ice on his face to keep the swelling down. Once my parents went to bed I raided their liquor cabinet, and we did a couple of shots each. Medicinal, you know?"

  Joe just looked at me.

  "Val seemed to be doing okay, as okay as someone who'd been through something as horrible as that could be. He said he was going to the bathroom. God, you should have seen the way he moved. It looked so painful. I've never wanted to kill anyone as much as I did those assholes." For a moment, I just breathed. "Val had been gone awhile and I got worried. The bathroom door was closed but not locked."

  I turned to Joe, all of the same old thoughts and questions cluttering up my mind. "I figured maybe he was crying, needed some time to himself or something. But that wasn't it. He was lying unconscious in the bath, blood everywhere. One wrist had been cut lengthwise, deep. But I guess he couldn't quite manage the other. That's what saved him. Well, that and the ambulance came quickly, fortunately. I just held his wrists together, screaming for Mom."

  "You saved him," he said quietly.

  Slowly, I shook my head. "It should never have happened, I should have known he was on the edge. Should have seen something."

  "How?" he asked. "You got mind-reading skills I don't know about?"

  I snorted. It was better than crying. "Anyway, we stayed at the hospital until they had him stabilized; then Mom made me go home. There was a lot of blood on me and it was all still in the bathroom too so I cleaned it. Didn't seem right to leave that to my parents."

  "Christ."

  "Yeah, it sucked," I said. "Never thought about it before, who deals with the blood? Apparently there are specialty cleaning companies who can help get it out of carpet and stuff. What a crappy job that must be. I hope they get paid really well."

  We pulled up outside the hotel and Joe turned off the engine. The sound of the rain pounded through the silence loud and clear.

  "I'm sorry that happened to your friend," he said. "And to you."

  "Thankfully, Valerie survived. She's good now, happy. Has a boyfriend who thinks she's Christmas."

  "And you?" he asked, reaching for my hand.

  I pulled it out from under my leg, meshing his fingers with mine. "I'm learning not to hate people. It's a gradual process."

  "Don't think you hate them, I think you're more scared of them." He placed a kiss on the back of my hand, holding my skin against his lips. "After what happened, I can see why."

  Outside, the rain kept falling from the night sky. The world kept turning, regardless of people living or dying.

  "That's the story," I said.

  "Thank you for trusting me with it."

  "Did you still want to come inside?" I was not holding my breath. That would be stupid. And yet, after letting all of it out, the story of Val, I could really do with some company. Especially his.

  Still holding my hand, he tucked a strand of hair back behind his ear, getting it out of his face. "Yes. But prepare yourself, there's going to be a lot of cuddling tonight."

  "Ew." I scrunched up my nose at him.

  "I know, I know. But you're going to have to be brave and put up with it."

  Quietly, I laughed. "I think I can do that."

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Message sent two weeks ago:

 
; ME: I'm having a shit-tastic time right now. Work stress, blah blah blah. Tell me something good.

  HIM: I've been thinking about you all day, looking forward to hearing from you. Also, whatever it is stressing you out, you can handle it. You're the most badass chick I know.

  ME: Thank you. I needed that. xx

  "Joe, I thought you said we were going to cuddle."

  "We are cuddling." Calloused hands slid around my waist, his lips feeding me soft kisses. And I was hungry for them. So hungry.

  "I'm pretty sure foreplay and cuddling are different," I said.

  "Christ," he muttered in a rough voice. "Is sex all you ever think about? I'm just trying to comfort you, Alex. Be there for you as a friend. Stop trying to twist this into something dirty."

  "That would be easier if we weren't both naked." I laughed and held his long blond hair back from his face, all the better to see him. The cut of his cheekbones and the pronounced line of his nose. Also, his damp pink bottom lip. Perfect for kissing, biting, and sucking on. The man might have had a point about me having sex on the brain. But if I did, it was totally his own fault.

  "You're so pretty," I said.

  "Pretty?"

  "Manly pretty. You know, hairy, and big, and hard and stuff."

  The adorable jerk sighed. "Yeah, okay. I'll take that. Thanks."

  "You're welcome."

  We sat facing each other, me straddling his lap. His back rested against the headboard, his long legs were stretched out. Given the size of the man's thighs, it was kind of hard for me to move much. Not that I wanted to go anywhere. From carrying all his tools and various pieces of building equipment around, he had a rather spectacular body. Thank God for his slight belly. It made me feel better about my own abundance of soft, rounded bits.

  In bed, there was an edge to Joe that worked for me like crazy. New life plan, never let Joe leave the bed. Bossy or not, with a little training, I'm sure he'd make a wonderful voluntary sex slave. And oh, the things I'd command him to do.

  He collared my neck with his hand, bringing me in closer for a kiss. Deeper this time, longer. His tongue in my mouth and his thumb stroking my jawline. Eyelids closed, my head spun in slow circles. There was only him and me. Everything else dwindled away to nothing.

  A hand on the base of my spine scooted me in closer against his body. I might have been on top, but he had all of the control. Against his very nice hard thick cock in particular. If I angled my hips just right, it lined up perfectly with the top of my slit. Tingles shot through me when I rubbed against him.