Behind His Eyes

by Claire Kingsley

  "Aren't you even a little pissed about this?" I ask. "We haven't seen him in nine years. What was I supposed to do, walk up and hug him?"

  Cody shrugs. "I don't know. I guess I'd like to hear him out. Yeah, it's been a long time, but he's here now, right?"

  I hunch my back and stare into the open fridge.

  "Ryan," Cody says. He pauses, and I know I’m not going to like what he says. I can hear it in his voice. "Is it possible you're pissed that he wasn't here when ... you know. He wasn't here for you, or for Mom when all the shit went down."

  I take a deep breath. Cody has a point, whether or not I want to admit it. As much as Hunter put our mom through, I did worse. A lot worse. Maybe I’m still mad at myself, and seeing Hunter reminds me of it. Damn it. I don’t want it to be my fault. I want to blame Hunter and hit him again.

  "Yeah," I say and close the fridge door, my anger dissipating in the face of the truth. "I hate admitting when you're right."

  Hunter emerges through the doorway to the stairs. Cody gestures him in and he joins us in the kitchen.

  "Hey, man, I'm sorry I hit you," I say.

  "It's all right. I deserved it." He rubs his stomach and winces. "I don't remember you being able to hit so hard."

  "So, what, are you back now? Or is this just an appearance?"

  He rubs his head. "I'm back. I'm out. Medical discharge."

  Now that he mentions it, I can see he’s walking with a bit of a limp.

  "Wow, dude," Cody says. "What happened?"

  "It's a long story, but I fucked up my leg. I mean, I consider myself lucky. I know guys who lost limbs. It was brutal. At least I can still walk. But it was a career ender." He pauses, looking away. "Listen, Ryan—your mom told me things were rough for a while. I'm betting there's more she didn't say, but whatever it was, I should have been here. I'm sorry."

  He holds out his hand. I step in and bat it aside, bringing him in for a hug. We clap each other on the back and I move out of the way to let Cody hug him, too.

  "It's good to have you back, man," I say. "I mean that."

  Hunter looks around. "It's good to be back. More than I would have guessed."

  I open the fridge again, pull out three beers, and hand them to Cody and Hunter. "Take one up to Dad," I say. "I'm good for tonight."

  "Thanks, man," Cody says. "You coming back up?"

  "Yeah, I gotta take a piss first."

  They go back upstairs and I pull my phone out of my back pocket. I’m hoping I might have a text from Nicole. Maybe it’s pathetic of me, but I miss her. Although it’s good she wasn’t here to see my little outburst. I stare at the screen, debating. Should I text her?

  With a heavy exhale, I stick my phone back in my pocket. I’m falling for this girl way too hard and way too fast. I don’t know if I’m up for this.

  17

  NICOLE

  M y bed in my old room feels so childish and small. And empty. I turn over and look at the clock. Nine-thirty. I’m surprised I slept so late. It took forever to fall asleep last night, my mind obsessively recalling the day I spent with Ryan. I can still smell him all over me. I think about texting him, but I’m terrified of coming on too strong. Sure, we had amazing sex, but that doesn’t mean we’re a couple. Does it? I feel so out of place.

  Like I told Ryan already, navigating the world of adult singlehood is new to me. Is he waiting for me to call? Am I supposed to wait for him to call me? I think back to the last few romantic comedies I saw. Sweet as they were, I don’t particularly want to mimic the bumbling struggles those characters always endure before they find love. I’ve had enough drama thrown at me recently, thank you very much. But my mind still reels with the implications of our day together.

  Reluctantly, I drag myself out of bed. My parents are gone—they left a note on the fridge saying they’re going into the city for the day. I’m just glad they didn’t wake me. My mom relented on the coffee, as long as I promised to buy fair trade organic, so I start a pot. While I wait for it to brew, I get out my laptop, intending to catch up on some work.

  I open my email and immediately close it again. Work. I need to go back. Working remotely is supposed to be temporary. I’m already stretching it, and if I don’t show up in the office soon, I risk losing my job. The very thought of Seattle makes my stomach turn. That's where Jason is. Our apartment. The rest of my things.

  The coffee finishes and I pour myself a cup. I have a friend from work, Andrea, who would probably let me crash at her place for a while. I’m certainly not going to stay at my old apartment. Fuck that noise. Even if Jason agreed to let me have it, I'd never be able to stay there. Damn him. He had sex with her right on top of my brand new bedding. I'll never be able to look at that beautiful blue-and-silver comforter again.

  And Ryan ... he’s something I wasn’t expecting. If I go back to Seattle, when will I see him? Weekends? Maybe we can switch off—he visits me one weekend, I come down here the next. Wait, what am I thinking? I can’t start planning a long-distance relationship with this guy when I have no idea what is even happening between us. This isn’t a relationship. Is it? This is ... I have no idea what this is.

  I sip my coffee and tackle a few work tasks, trying to keep Ryan off my mind. Not like work is hard, even when I’m distracted. I add updated guest counts to a spreadsheet, send a few emails to vendors so they'll respond back early in the week, and check the status of a brochure order. Real brain surgery, there.

  I deal with a few things for the festival as well. There isn’t as much work as I feared, but I feel like this event is going to fall pretty flat. I went over Cheryl's lists, looked up photos of past events, and talked with a lot of the local businesses to see how it was done in the past. It isn't complicated, but it’s also ... boring. A bunch of tourists sporting fanny packs and white tennis shoes will wander around some booths. If the business owners are lucky, they’ll go into their stores and spend money. Sure, the artists have a chance to sell their work, and it showcases a lot of great local talent. But there’s no spark. Nothing to make it unique. Even the art gallery itself is blah. For a community that likes to pride itself on its artistic roots, they've really let this slide over the years. I wonder if there’s anything I can do to spruce things up, even on such short notice.

  My coffee’s gone and I’m having a hard time concentrating. I keep thinking of Ryan. Remembering what he did with his tongue makes me all tingly. I was serious when I said it was my first time. Jason claimed oral sex grossed him out. The jackass was probably just too lazy to learn. I close my eyes, remembering how crazy Ryan drove me. Just thinking about it starts to get me wet.

  I look at my phone again. Is he going to call? Is there a rule about how long you’re supposed to wait?

  Ryan's tongue gymnastics get me thinking. My inexperience with all things oral extends to performing it as well. I tried on Jason once, but it didn’t go well. We were both uncomfortable and I don't think he enjoyed it any more than I did. But the thought of slipping Ryan's cock in my mouth is exhilarating. What does it taste like? I love the thought of making him feel good, of sending him into spasms of ecstasy the way he did for me. The problem is, I have no idea how.

  I think about texting Melissa. But if I text, there will be a written record of our conversation. Instead, I bring up her number and hit send.

  "Morning," she says. She sounds tired.

  "Did I wake you?"

  "Nope, but I kind of wish you would have," she says. "I was up early grading tests."

  "Sounds awesome."

  "Eh, it's my life. What's up?"

  I pause, biting my lower lip. Melissa isn’t necessarily overly experienced, but she's dated more guys than I have. I figure she might be able to point me in the right direction. "So, I have a weird question."

  "Oh-kay," she says, drawing out the word.

  "How much do you know about blowjobs?"

  I hear a snorting, choking sound, then coughing. "I'm sorry, you just made me spit water everywhere. Wh
at did you say?"

  "Geez, Mel, you heard me."

  "I think I heard you," she says. "Did you just ask me about blowjobs? Oh my god. You did it, didn't you? You fucked Ryan."

  "Shh," I say, glancing around, although I know there isn't anyone in the house.

  "What, is your mom around?" she says with a laugh.

  "No, they're gone for the day."

  "Then what are you so worried about? Come on, Nicole, you're a grown woman. And my god, you deserved a good fuck. It was good, wasn't it?"

  I pause. "It was incredible."

  Melissa squeals. "I knew it! How was the Brazilian? Awesome, right? I told you."

  My face warms, but I couldn’t stop smiling if I tried. "I didn't think I'd ever be thanking you for that epic torture session, but yes. It was awesome."

  "Okay, so what happens now? You want to blow him; that's a good sign."

  "I have no idea. I haven't talked to him yet. He had to leave last night to go have dinner with his parents, but holy shit Melissa, we had sex pretty much all day. It was unbelievable."

  Melissa groans. "I'm so jealous."

  "So, what do I do? He did all this crazy stuff, and I swear to you, I had no idea half of it was even possible. I don't want to disappoint him, you know?"

  "You’re adorable. Okay, here's what you're going to do," she says, using her teacher voice. "You're going to Google how to give a sexy blowjob and—"

  "Wait, what? No."

  "No, what?" she asks.

  "I'm not Googling how to give a blowjob."

  "Why not?"

  "Because!" Doesn’t she know anything?

  "You're afraid someone will find out, aren't you?" she asks.

  "If I type that in, who knows who could see it. What if someone finds my search history?"

  "What if they do?" she asks.

  "Seriously? What would they think?"

  "Um, they'd think you're a grown ass woman who wants to blow a man's mind by sucking his cock," she says. "I'd say they'd probably be impressed and maybe ask you out."

  "Shut up, Simon."

  "Look, Nic," she says. "There are a lot of really good articles out there explaining how to do this stuff. You know how tribal women would have lived close to their moms and sisters and aunts? They would learn from their elders, and it wasn't just how to gather berries and roots and shit. They'd learn all the good stuff too, like how to properly suck a cock. The internet is like our modern day women's circle. You can learn from the best—it doesn't have to be weird."

  "I guess when you put it that way..."

  "Do it," she says. "The internet police aren't going to come arrest you if you Google cock sucking. But maybe don't phrase it like that."

  I laugh. "Okay, okay. I'll do it."

  "And Nicole?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Let me know how it goes," she says.

  "Shut up, Simon."

  I hang up on her.

  With a deep breath, I open a browser and type how to give a sexy blowjob. I hesitate, my mouse hovering over the search icon. What am I so afraid of? I am a grown ass woman, and hell yes, I want to blow a man's mind by sucking his cock. I click the button.

  MY PHONE BINGS and I nearly jump out of my seat. I clap a hand to my chest and blow out a breath. Holy shit, that scared me. I pick it up and my heart skips again. A text from Ryan.

  Hey. Are you busy?

  I glance up at the clock on the microwave. It’s after one o'clock. Where did the morning go?

  My fingers hover above the tiny keyboard on the screen. What should I say? I don’t want to sound too eager. That might scare him off. But I’m already pretty turned on by the research I've been doing, and just the thought of seeing him again makes my tummy flutter. Oh, come on, Nicole. Type something. If you wait too long, he's going to think you don't want to talk to him.

  I send a reply. Nope, not busy.

  I groan and slump in my seat. The epitome of conversation, that.

  Instead of binging with another text, my phone rings. I can't keep the smile from my face as I answer.

  "Hi."

  "Hi, beautiful," Ryan says.

  Oh my god. "Um, hi."

  He laughs. "Sorry, I texted first to make sure I wasn't interrupting anything important."

  Nope, just learning how to blow your mind. "No, not at all. I'm just hanging out here at my parents’ house."

  "Can I come pick you up?"

  "Yes." Ugh, I said it too quickly.

  "Great. I'll see you in a little bit."

  "Okay, see you then."

  I hang up, my eyes lingering on the article I was reading. He didn’t say why he was coming to get me. Is this going to be a date? A hook-up? Heat is already building between my legs. Damn, what is he doing to me? I don’t have long before he'll arrive, but I haven’t showered, so I decide to rinse off. I can just put my hair up. I dash into the bathroom to get ready, wondering what he has in store for me. And what I have in store for him.

  18

  RYAN

  I t took all my self-control not to call Nicole after I left my parents’ house. But my mom kept us there late; it was well after midnight by the time Cody and I left. Nicole was probably asleep. This morning, I keep holding back. I want to see her so much it’s painful, but the intensity of my reaction scares me. I don’t want to ride this high too far—it will only make the crash back down that much harder. And longer. I need to be careful, but by about one o'clock I can't take it anymore. She hasn’t called me either, but I’m done waiting.

  I race down the highway to town after talking to her. I already showered and dressed in jeans and a faded blue t-shirt, so I’m out the door in seconds. I’m not going to just bring her back to my place. This isn’t a booty call. Of course, I’m hard just thinking about her, and we'll certainly end up back at my place if I have anything to say about it. Still, I should take her out. Maybe lunch if she hasn’t eaten. Can I sit across a table from her and control myself? Of course I can.

  Maybe.

  I pull up to her house and lift my hand to knock on the door. She opens it before I finish knocking.

  "Hi," she says, a little breathless. Her hair is wet, as if she's just gotten out of the shower, and she's put it up in a little bun. She wears a long-sleeved black shirt and a red-and-white skirt that shows a lot of leg.

  Lunch will take too long. We'll get coffee. To go.

  "Hi." I step in and slip my hand around her waist, pulling her to me. Her lips part in a smile and I lean in, kissing her. She offers no resistance, tilting her head for me. Her mouth is soft and minty. I mean to give her a quick hello kiss, but I linger there, breathing in her scent. Her tongue brushes my lips and I pull her closer, wrapping my other hand around the back of her neck.

  Forget the coffee. Is her house empty?

  I break the kiss, pulling back to look at her. "It's good to see you."

  "You too," she says. "So, what are we going to do?"

  Baby, the things I'm going to do to you. Still, I find myself saying, "I thought we could grab lunch."

  "Sounds great."

  There’s a hint of nervousness about her as I walk her to my car. Or maybe it’s anticipation. I hold the door and watch her legs as she sits. Her skirt slides higher up her thigh. She definitely wore it to torture me. Her pale, creamy skin looks so soft and inviting.

  I shut her door and get in the car. She gives me a shy smile, like she has a secret.

  "What sounds good?" I ask, pulling out of her driveway.

  "I'm fine with whatever," she says.

  I glance down at her legs again and she tips her knees apart, ever so slightly. I can’t stop myself from touching her—I run my fingers up her thigh, swirling it near the hem of her skirt.

  Nicole takes a deep breath. "Actually, I have another idea."

  "Yeah? All right, just tell me where to go." My fingers tingle as I caress her skin and my cock strains against my jeans. I can’t believe I get to be the one to touch her like this.

&
nbsp; "This might be a little crazy," she says. "Have you ever gone up Forest Hill Road?"

  I raise my eyebrows. Is she serious? "I've, um, I've driven up there, but never with a girl." Forest Hill Road is an old logging road outside town. It winds through the regrown forest to a secluded hill. Many a Jetty Beach teenager lost their virginity on Forest Hill—or at least claimed they did.

  She reaches over and runs her hand up my leg, getting dangerously close to my cock. "So this would be a first for you?"

  "Yeah," I say, a little shaky. "Forest Hill would be a first."

  "Good." She moves her hand over my bulge and squeezes through my jeans.

  I groan and grip the steering wheel, my other hand still on her leg. Nicole leans across the center console and undoes my jeans, sliding the zipper down. Holy shit, is this happening? Did Nicole Prescott just ask me to take her up to Forest Hill? I’m so turned on, my cock feels like it will burst, and her delicate caresses make my whole body light up with electricity.

  "Oh my god, Nicole, what are you doing to me?"

  Her hand slides into my underwear. She wraps her fingers around my cock and squeezes.

  I blow out a breath and try to focus on the road. A few cars amble by as I drive through town. Fucking speed limit. I press on the gas pedal, testing my luck a little bit. This is not a good time to get pulled over, but fuck me, I need to get on the highway.

  We turn past the town entrance and I’m able to pick up speed. So does Nicole. She pulls my cock out and strokes her hand up and down the shaft. I run my hand higher up her thigh, beneath her skirt, my fingers brushing lace. She scoots closer to me and opens her legs. I tease my fingers beneath her panties.

  "You're so wet," I say.

  My blood is on fire, but I have to keep my eyes on the road. Nicole keeps stroking me, putting pressure in all the right places. She swirls her thumb over the tip and I almost swerve off the road.

  "Sorry," I say.

  I slide two fingertips inside her and she moans, squeezing my cock harder.

  Where's that fucking turn?