by Dakota Gray
“Kennedy threw that party?”
“Yeah. Had half the firm sauced by lunch time.”
Gwen laughs. “Probably why I don’t remember much of it.”
“Those are just two things, and that’s why I like Kennedy. She gives a shit about people.”
That seems to mollify her for two seconds. “Have you told her that’s why you like her?”
If I didn’t like Kennedy I wouldn’t pant after her like a dog. I shouldn’t have to say it. “What's going on with Kennedy and I is just that, between me and her. For the record, I was being myself. She's pissed about that. So in actuality, I did nothing.”
Gwen sighs. “If you think that...”
I add creamer and sugar to my cup. I taste the coffee. It's shit, but it'll do. “Then what?”
“Then you're not as smart as I gave you credit for.”
I hold her stare and her face is flushed, her mouth thin with irritation. I graduate to the death stare and she doesn't waver.
I trust Gwen's instincts. More when she fights for it. She's squared up now to take me on. Yet I've looked at what transpired between me and Kennedy. Hell, I've had eons to file shit away and look at later. I'm not without data or even anecdotal examples. It's why I slept like crap the night before. It's hard to catch some zzzz's when the truth keeps teabagging you late at night.
I didn't fuck up at the brunch, no matter what Kennedy says. I made my misstep after that.
Ultimatums are for the desperate. Some well-meaning therapist somewhere says hard lines lay out boundaries. Hard lines are important. Boundaries let people know the rules of any given situation. Ultimatums gives one party a last chance to fuck you over. It's hope in its purest form.
Be faithful or I will have to leave this relationship.
Clean your room or you will be grounded.
Take me or leave me.
The other party has already shown they don't care. Yet there you are, hoping, if you say it in do or die terms, they'll give a shit.
Kennedy saw the real me and ran before. I'm giving her another out. I'm hoping she doesn't take it.
Why?
That's the million dollar question.
I'm pretty sure folks would look at me, my actions and my situation and think he's in love. He's an idiot for not seeing it.
I may be cold. I may be ruthless. I am hard-core. I still know what love is. Actually that's probably why my blood runs arctic. Love is without conditions. Actually, that's probably why my blood runs arctic. So many of my relationships have had them.
I gave Kennedy an ultimatum. She needed one to shit or get off the pot. That's not love from either side. Worse, she expects me to be that good guy I want to die. If given the chance, I will drown him without remorse. That part of me creates all kinds of complications.
I should have made us simple again. We like debates and fucking each other. Let's get back to that. Let's see who would end up on top.
Hope though...such a bitch.
I'm going to get into my bed tonight and I'm going to hope in the morning she takes me. My masochistic streak runs much longer than the sadistic one.
“Gwen, I need the O’de—”
“If you finish that sentence, I’m spitting in your coffee as you stand right there and watch me do it.”
Told you that’s what she’d do if I pissed her off. “Fine, but smuggle some donuts up to the office.”
“Why do you think I was down here?”
I know that’s not enough to soothe her feathers. I add, “If and when I need advice on Kennedy, I’ll ask you. I respect your opinion and your insight.”
She smiles. “Do you need that file?”
“Nope.”
“You’re forgiven.”
“I’m forgiven because I’m a teddy bear, Gwen.”
I walk away when she starts to laugh.
*****
“Did you get the itinerary?”
Nate's voice fills my home from the speaker as I do my last minute packing for the weekend trip. There's annoyed, and there's an annoyed Southerner. The distinction doesn't make sense unless you've experienced it.
I'm about to. Nate's pronunciation has gone nuclear. Everything is punctuated. Aye-tent-to-rare-ree. Tarek is going to fuck around and end up dead in a chasm.
“I have not,” I say. I've learned long ago to remain the impassive third party. It's much more entertaining than being neck deep.
“This. Mother. Fucker.”
I laugh and tap my phone to dig through my personal email account. Tarek sent out an itinerary in the late night hours. It looks like the norm. He's laid out a path that will both challenge everyone's physicality and give breathtaking views of nature. This is why Tarek has a sort of sycophant following at the gym. He never takes more than six clients on a camping trip—enough to keep things interesting and intimate.
He first treats everyone to a good meal, leads us to a luxury bus that will take us to our destination, and then we rough it. We're going to walk five miles up a mountain to settle by a river where we'll camp for the night. A mile incline in the perfect climate can make a grown man cry.
“I thought you were supposed to be army strong?”
“I built fences in...”
I zone out of the speech he's going to give. He's called to bitch. He wants to commiserate, but Nate is Southern. At some point he's going to hit an ancestor and expound with exaggerated pronunciation.
He gets there by the time I drop my bag by the door. “Nate, just say you don't want to leave your wife behind for the weekend.”
He's quiet for a long while. “Fuck. Bring a tranq gun. You're going to want to kill me.”
I inhale deeply. Jealousy is a scent that's so strong I can taste it at the back of my throat. “My feet are in good working order. I'll just put a foot in your ass if you get out of line.”
“Did you invite Kennedy?”
The screen has gone dark on my phone. I tap the screen. 6:02. I told her six even though the bus leaves at seven from the London-Berg gym. I figured that would give us time to kiss and make up after the argument.
But she's decided to leave me. I shouldn't be surprised. There shouldn't be a twinge in my chest. Shouldn't. “You're being that guy,” I deflect.
“What happened?” he asks, with laser damn focus.
“See you in a bit.”
I hang up on his knowing laugh. 6:05. I turn off my phone since it'll be useless for the next two days, and it’ll keep me from checking it constantly. I grab my bag, lock up my house and step outside.
Kennedy is leaning against my SUV's grill, her arms crossed, looking pissed and wearing a long-sleeved shirt and cargo pants. She's dressed for a hike, and there's a pack at her feet. There are a million things we need to iron out and say to each other.
But she's taking me.
I cross my driveway to her. I cup her face. I slam my mouth on hers. Her fingers spear through my hair, and for the first time I can feel her fingertips along my scalp. No gel, barely a finger comb—my hair is wild today, and maybe so am I.
I feather my tongue across her bottom lip, then her top. She parts her mouth, and I slide home. She tastes of mint and coffee. Though my mouth, my tongue are incessant, a bit harsh as I drink her in, my hands are gentle as I touch every part of her I can. I almost lost this with my fucking ultimatum. I make mental promises to never be desperate again. To never be weak when it comes to her.
So I'm gentle when I touch her. There's not a single inch of her that isn't soft or compelling or in need of a little worship. That, too, I have to remember as her breasts shift against my chest. I slip a leg between hers then pin her to the car. I break the kiss to check the damage I've done to her mouth. Her lips are pink but not yet swollen. I nip her hard enough to make her blood rush. Her breath tickles me as she moans.
She tilts her head back. “Your hair.”
This is said with utter amazement. This is why, since I was sixteen, I've had more hair products than professiona
l stylists. Without gel, I look like fucking Shirley Temple. Today and the next I'll go without because sweat, heat and gel do not go well together.
“I love it,” she murmurs. “Why don't you wear it like this?”
“You're one step away from calling me adorable, and that's why.”
The corner of her eyes crinkle. “But your hair.”
I laugh. “While you marvel at the fact I have curls, I need to check your pack and get you ready for the trip.”
“I think I have everything that's needed for a two-day trip.”
“You've hiked and camped before?”
“I had the power of Google and Youtube on my side.”
This could be a disaster.
Notice we aren't pointing out the elephant in the room.
Yeah.
Anyway, I undo what she would consider careful and meticulous packing. She couldn't have done this in a morning or in just a few hours. Kennedy has a mini first aid kit, bear spray, and even a useless snake bite kit. She has the right socks—non-cotton, and shirts that will either insulate her well for cold weather or breathe to cool her down for the heat. There are three things of water and two are frozen solid to give way as the day wears on. I put back everything she'll absolutely need but hang on to the deodorant.
“Between myself, Nate, and Tarek, we'll have everything you will need for the trip in case shit goes south. It should bring you comfort to know Nate can carry just about anyone on his back and run for miles.”
“Not really. It means someone can't walk on their own.”
There's that. I stand and hold up the deodorant. “This is for your thighs. Even though you have cargo pants there'll be chaffing, especially from the amount of walking we'll do.”
“You want me to slather deodorant on my thighs?”
I put my hand between said thighs. She gasps. “They touch, they rub. It's heaven for me.” I squeeze her left leg. “You, not so much. Not after three hours. Baby powder won't cut it.”
“And how do you know this?”
“I've seen other women on trips do it and I've asked.”
“Of course you did.” Her breath hitches as I ride my hand up. “For the record, I already did it.”
I drop my hand. “If you need to reapply don't hesitate.”
“And let you watch?”
“Goes without saying.”
She glances down. “Are you late because you were waiting for me?”
Back to the game. “Yes.”
She nods. “For now that's good enough.”
“But?”
“I don't know.”
I don't know. She's here, and it's not for sex. I'm elated, and it's not for sex. I don't know seems like my current catch phrase too. But let's pause over ‘good enough.’ That's what I am when it's me not being a good guy.
“We should go,” I say, in a flat tone.
I grab her pack and mine. I should be happy she's here. It should be enough for me too. Once again the bar is set and I have to squeeze out more blood.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
There are two kind of people in this world: people who hike for fun and sane individuals.
Kennedy isn't sane. She's right up there with Tarek chatting and laughing. She's covered in sunscreen from head to toe, sporting a hat, sunglasses, and still sprouting freckles by the second. She's...happy.
I'm at the back of the group with Nate. We’re not happy. In fact, Nate looks like he wants to push everyone off the nearest cliff just so he can go home. I’ll gladly defend him in any court cases that arise. This shit is for the birds. In this situation that’s literal.
The trail isn’t horrible, but it’s nature. Trees line both sides of the semi-cleared brush. Every now and again there’s a loud enough rustle in the distance that makes us all glance around. The incline has kicked our asses like I knew it would. We're almost done for the day and that’s the only light at the end of the tunnel.
“FYI,” Nate says out of the blue, “Tarek’s good guy routine is how he gets women to do wild shit. Listening makes the kitty purr.”
I let out a loud laugh that makes our hikers glance back at us. “Is this you being that guy?”
“That one I've always known.”
I consider that, apparently too long, because Nate adds, “Let me put this in terms you can understand. You should be the one making her laugh and telling her bird shit can save the rain forest. Shag ass and get your girl.”
Since Nate is usually good at reading women, I shag ass. Kennedy smiles at me when I match her rhythm.
“Tarek was telling me about the time you saved him and Nate from a drunk and disorderly.”
The memory hits me and I have to laugh. “I've tried to block that night from my mind. Nate puked on the cop's shoes. Then the smell hit Tarek. Derek was going to take them in just for making a mess on his uniform.”
“Derek?”
“I stayed in touched with him over the years. Never hurts to have someone on the local PD.”
She shakes her head. “Of course, but how did you save them?
“Called them cabs, pulled every string I had to get Derek a change of clothes on the spot, have his uniform dry-cleaned within an hour, and delivered to his station.”
Tarek says, “We were living together in this small apartment at the time. He was up at 6:30 to throw ice cold water on us.”
She frowns, and I explain. “They managed to get home in one piece and passed out next to each other in front of the door. Surprisingly, not in a puddle of puke.”
“He made sure to take pictures.”
“I can't remember if I posed you guys first. Did I?”
“You did, you asshole.”
I smile. “They never got that drunk again...and called me.”
Kennedy laughs. “But you saved them from jail.”
Tarek shrugs. “He's not all bad.”
She pulls down her sunglasses to give Tarek an I-know-what-you're-doing look, then pushes them back up. “I'm aware, but does he know that?”
“He has his moments.” Tarek checks his compass. “Another hour, and we should make it to our destination.”
“Can we have a break first?” she asks.
He glances back to check on our group. I do the same. Most of the chatter has died down. We're all hot, sticky. We've climbed high enough, though we've hit the outcropping of tall trees and that means shade on the trail.
“Five minutes ahead there's a break where we can all sit and cool off before the last stretch.”
She sighs but nods. “I shall survive.”
Tarek is subtle about it, but he picks up the pace putting distance between Kennedy and me.
“Is he trying to give us some privacy to talk?” she whispers.
Smart woman. “Yup.”
“And did Nate send you up here?”
“Yup.”
“You have good friends.”
I smirk. “They have their moments.”
“They are very different from you.”
I know that. I want to see what she does. “How?”
“When you told me Tarek likes to explore, I expected him to be a jock or an adrenaline junky who is cocky and unapologetic about it.”
I shake my head. “Sounds more like Nate.”
“Right? And you told me he likes to build. He should be the still-waters type, but that's Tarek. I don't think Nate has a thought he doesn't want to share. So the three of you are an interesting mix.”
I glance at her. “Then what am I?”
“The hardass who takes no shit. You sounded more annoyed they let themselves get that drunk than the fact they were about to go to jail. You were irritated with me for being tipsy.”
“I’m not a fan of weakness. You do dumb things when you’re feeling vulnerable.”
“And alcohol makes you weak?”
“It can.”
Her gaze shutters. “Like I said, you guys are an interesting mix.”
“Circumstance and proximity bui
lt our friendship.”
“How?”
“We helped each other pass a math class.”
Her face lights again. “You were failing at something? Blasphemy.”
I like that she understands that about me. “Couldn't believe it either at the time.”
“I just find it intriguing. My friend, Mari is...well, she's like me.” She smiles. “She told me you were nothing but bad news.”
“When was this?”
“Every time you come up in a conversation.”
I smile back at her. “You need new friends.”
Kennedy shakes her head at that. “She runs her own business—a copy shop.”
“That's how you met?”
“Yeah. I needed a good deal on paper. I took her to lunch to schmooze her, and we ended up hitting it off.”
“Did you get the deal?”
“Oh, hell no,” Kennedy says on a laugh. Remember that twinkle? Yeah. It’s there now too. “The heifer refused to relent on a decent price, but by then we’d got drunk and told each other all our secrets. She couldn't get rid of me if she tried. Mari felt the same.”
I check ahead. Tarek's stopped. Just beyond him is a small clearing. “There's your break.”
“Oh thank God. I had to pee three miles ago, but there were no decent trees to hide behind.”
I laugh at her honesty. “Well you'll have plenty of coverage here. Don't go too far though.”
She bows her head. “Worried I'll get lost?”
“No. I'll find you.”
Her gaze shoots up to my face. “This is a moment.”
“What?”
“Where you're being...not bad.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” We’re still ignoring the elephant, but I like this...whatever is happening. It feels light and easy. I know it’s so fucking precarious. I know I’m losing my edge with her because I don’t want to do anything to change it. I almost want to be the kind of man who laughs with his lover after sex.
But moments aren’t meant to last forever.
She goes to the left and I lead the group into the clearing. Tarek reminds everyone that they should preserve the area as is if they need to use the restroom or eat a snack. I keep my eye out in the direction Kennedy disappeared.