Possibilities

by Michelle Grotewohl

  Gradually, he picked up speed, though he tried to keep himself in check and in the moment. But the fact that he was with Evie- woman of his dreams, vixen of his fantasies- kept slipping in, urging him needfully on.

  Soon, he was slamming into her, and the loud, harsh sounds coming from her had him hovering at the edge of climax. Her first, he thought. Just once more, and then he’d take for himself.

  “Evie,” he gasped, “Let me see that pretty face of yours again.”

  As if he’d called it up by sheer force of will, she bowed beneath him and screamed before sobbing his name. Her fingernails bit into his forearms, her heels dug into his lower back, pulling him deeper inside her until he swore he could feel her soul.

  It was there, lost deep inside her pulsing body and not wanting to ever find his way out, that he found his pleasure. Holding deep, he gasped and growled and quaked as stars shot behind his eyes. He whispered her name like a prayer.

  After a minute, as the waves subsided, he lowered to his forearms and kissed her gently, twice, then moved to her side.

  She laid on her back, catching her breath, a silly grin on her face. “Oh, I was right!” she said happily.

  “About what?” he gasped, though judging by the smile on her face, it could only be a good thing.

  “Your skills in bed. I knew you’d be amazing.”

  He grinned. “Glad I could put that to rest.”

  She chuckled. “Oh, you did. Like a champion.” She paused, and he wondered what she was thinking. “It must make it easier for you to leave after, if your lover is sated and distracted.”

  He started to respond, then frowned and sat up to glare at her. “Is that what you think I do? Sleep with women and then sneak out while they’re in some kind of sexual stupor?”

  Brow creased in confusion, Evie sat up, too. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you.”

  “Well you did.” And it hurt, he realized, to have his dream crushed so soon. He’d even spoken her name in passion, something he never did, with any woman. He’d been trying to show her he wasn’t that guy, but it had obviously meant nothing.

  Unable to stay beside her any longer, he stood and pulled on pajama pants.

  “Drake, what else am I supposed to think?” she asked a little desperately. “Look at your track record, and the women you’ve dated.”

  He stared at her, still rumpled, in his bed, and knew she was right. Judging from what she’d seen, she could make no other conclusion. And he couldn’t correct her without telling her the truth. Not gonna happen.

  Instead, he said, “I guess.”

  She made a face that said, ‘See?’

  But he wasn’t letting her off so easily. She’d used his needs against him to get what she wanted before he was ready to give it to her. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not capable of real feelings, Evie. I’ve been trying to show you that, to prove to you I’ve changed. And you wouldn’t let me, and are now holding it over my head when it was you who pushed this relationship to that place.”

  He could see she was ashamed of herself and felt bad about what she’d said, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care at the moment. “Drake, I-”

  “Don’t,” he said, cutting her off. Turning away from her, he went out the sliding door to the lower deck, and shut the door behind him to tell her he wanted to be alone.

  A few minutes later, he saw the light in the downstairs living area come on, turned only his head to watch her go. She wore only her shirt, which barely covered her ass, and carried the rest of her clothes. Her shoulders were hunched, her face pain-covered.

  At the bottom of the stairs, she glanced at him. He held her gaze, letting her see his anger and disappointment. She bit her lip- hard, he thought- then disappeared up the stairs. A few seconds later, the light went out again.

  He turned back to the water, watching the faint waves he could see by the sliver of moon in the sky. He was glad she hadn’t come out, respecting his need to be alone. And yet, if she had, it meant she cared enough to come after him…

  So which was it?, he wondered. Respect, or care? Or were they synonymous? On one hand-

  He growled at himself, hating the circling thoughts in his head, and went back inside.

  Early the next morning, Evie moved outside to do her yoga routine on the lawn. Yes, it was only six a.m., but she hadn’t been able to sleep, anyway, and she liked doing her yoga outside before the neighborhood woke up.

  She laid down her mat on the small stretch of flat land near the shore, hoping that being on the grass and earth, and able to hear the wind and smell the water, would help center her. She needed to de-stress and think clearer, and adjusted her normal routine accordingly by doing Sun Salutations.

  When she was done, she took ten minutes for meditation, hoping for some answers to her problems. Or at least a good way to apologize to a man who hadn’t deserved the unintentional attack she’d hit him with seconds after they’d made love. She’d honestly thought he wouldn’t care, but still…

  With a sigh, she opened her eyes and looked out over the empty lake, watched for a moment the steam rising in faint wisps off the smooth surface.

  She stood and rolled up her mat, then grabbed her water bottle and turned to the house. She’d only gone up three of the stone steps when she saw Drake, sitting in one of the chairs on the lower deck, watching her.

  Well, she thought as she stared back, that explained her inability to focus and relax. He’d been watching her the whole time. She couldn’t even blame him for it, not when he’d clearly been there when she'd come out, and had distractedly not looked around. She’d have heard him come outside otherwise.

  His eyes were bright blue stones as they held her gaze. He didn’t smile, didn’t frown. Just looked.

  And Evie looked right back, wishing she could say something to take back what she’d said the night before. She opened her mouth to try, he lifted a doubtful brow, and she stopped. She had nothing for him now. With a regretful frown, she continued up and up again, into the house.

  She took her time with her shower and dressing, hoping he’d take the opportunity to eat and then give her space to do the same.

  She scoffed quietly at herself. Why should he leave her alone? He hadn’t screwed up, again. She had. And she wouldn’t hide, because it had been an honest- albeit cold- mistake. Eventually, the right words would come to her, and she wanted to be with him when they did.

  She dressed rather conservatively, her jean shorts nearly to her knees, her white tunic long-sleeve but thin. She felt the need to cover up today, partially because she didn’t want to feel exposed any more than she already did by her gaffe, and partially because she didn’t think she should provoke him sexually now that they’d had sex.

  After lifting her hair into a half-tail with a clip, she left her room. Glancing around, she saw Drake sitting on the back porch, eating breakfast. She could smell bacon now, and her mouth watered. A little pang went through her that he hadn’t waited, though that’s what she’d wanted and she didn’t blame him.

  She toasted a bagel and turned it into a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, then carried it out to sit across from him. “Morning,” she said quietly. She lifted her sandwich, then her eyes, and paused with it halfway to her mouth.

  He was staring at her, though she couldn’t say what he was thinking. His face was a carefully blank slate.

  Testing, she asked, “How did you sleep?”, and took a bite.

  His gaze narrowed slightly. “Not good. My bed smells like you. Kept me awake and hard all night.”

  She nearly choked. “Um…” She said the only thing she could think of to help. “Do you want me to change your sheets?”

  “Nope.”

  Why would he want to be tortured that way?, she wondered, glad now they hadn’t made it to her bed. Maybe he was doing it to remind himself why he shouldn’t have sex with her again, if he was even considering it. Which she doubted…

  Lifting somber eyes, she said, �
�Drake-”

  “Can I just eat, please?”

  She sighed. “Don’t be this way. I’m sorry I said it. Truly. I honestly didn’t think you would care if I pointed out the obvious. Or, what I perceived as obvious. It was more for me, anyway,” she finished on a mutter.

  “What do you mean?”

  She sighed again. “I said that under the assumption that you would do the same with me, so you would know I understood if you wanted to.”

  He didn’t say anything to her, just watched her with thoughtful eyes, so she continued.

  “I really thought you did that on purpose.”

  “I… did, with other women.”

  “See?”

  “But not for the reasons you think,” he clarified.

  Willing to hear him out, she nodded. “Okay. Why then?”

  Once more, he only looked at her. She could see he had things he wanted to say, but he didn’t speak.

  Though she understood his hesitation, she was a little disappointed. Grabbing her plate, she stood. “If you decide you want to talk to me, I’ll be inside.”

  He didn’t talk to her all day, but she was a patient sort when she wanted to be. She sat and read most of the afternoon, fed herself after he did, then read some more. It was one of the ways she could truly relax and forget, at least for a little while.

  She noticed he couldn’t seem to settle. He was downstairs for a while, then outside fishing. He came back in and read, but that didn’t last long, and soon he was downstairs again, doing God knew what.

  Shortly after dinner, he came upstairs and stood before her. “I’m going for a boat ride. You wanna come?”

  Though she could see he didn’t really want her to go, the idea appealed to her on a few levels: It was a rare treat to go out on the boat at night; it was kind of romantic, even though he was pissed; and they would be in forced close proximity so she could use his own trick and talk to him.

  “Yes. That sounds great.”

  He fought a grimace. “Cool. I’ll go get my shoes and wallet, and meet you down there.”

  He was gone before she could say anything, but that was fine with her. It gave her the opportunity to go to her room, brush her hair and teeth, and change her clothes. Knowing they wouldn’t be swimming, she put on a lacy black bra and panty set, and covered it with a zip-up hoodie that fell almost to her knees. He’d never know she had nothing else on, unless she wanted him to.

  It was all just in case, anyway. She doubted anything would happen while they were gone. He was furious, but she’d try to talk to him. She could hope…

  He was already on the boat when she got down to the water, had the engine running and the lights on. She unhooked the pontoon, gave it a little shove, and leapt on as it moved away from the dock.

  “What took you so long?” Drake asked a little testily as she settled on the bench in front of him.

  “Had to pee,” she lied, knowing he wouldn’t question her.

  He acknowledged that with a lift of his head, and steered the boat toward the deep part of the lake. She leaned back and let the cool night air breeze over her. She watched the stars overhead for a long time, recognizing several constellations and knowing that made her a nerd.

  The sound of the boat downshifting had her lifting her head. She saw they were as far from people and any of the houses as they could get on a lake. Far off, the faint sound of a band reached her ears, and she turned in that general direction to see bright lights and dozens of people milling around at one of the houses across from Vicki’s.

  The engine cut out, and Drake drew her attention when he stood.

  “Want me to get it?” she asked when she saw he was heading toward the anchor. She was closer, after all.

  “No. I got it.”

  She sighed silently and sat back, watching as he lifted the anchor, bicep bulging, then tossed it into the water. Once it had settled, he wound the extra rope around the boat cleat, and sat in a chair across from her.

  They sat quietly for a long time, reclining, eyes closed, legs sprawled between them. Then Drake shifted his feet, bumping Evie’s calf and getting her attention. “Sorry,” he mumbled, removing his other shoe. When his feet were bare, he sighed.

  Evie waited him out patiently, letting him relax, sink into his chair again, put his head back and close his eyes. Then she moved, purposely bumping his leg and causing his eyes to flash open.

  When he looked at her, she stared right back. His eyes narrowed slightly, and she barely fought a smile. He bumped her back, and the smile bloomed.

  She tapped him again, breathed a laugh when he lifted a brow. With a begrudging smile, he used both of his feet to paddle hers back and forth. She giggled.

  Suddenly, his face went serious, his eyes intense.

  “What? What’s wrong?” Evie asked, sitting up and looking behind her. When she saw nothing there, she looked curiously back to Drake. His eyes were still intense, pinpointed directly on her, but there was the faintest hint of a smirk on his face.

  After taking a deep breath, he looked away and said, “I don’t think this was a good idea.” He stood and moved to pull the anchor up.

  She realized she had about five seconds to decide what to do. Should she let Drake pull anchor, and take them back to the cottage? Or did she want him enough to put herself out there again, and convince him to forgive her?

  Duh.

  She stood. “Drake, wait.”

  He turned back to her, and she stepped closer, looking imploringly up at him. “I really am sorry for what I said last night. I was nervous and feeling a little insecure, and I wasn’t thinking.”

  “Evie, we had just finished having sex. Shouldn’t you have been past nervous and insecure by then?”

  She laughed at herself. “Maybe in a normal situation, but that wasn’t a normal situation.”

  “Why not? We’re just two people who are attracted to each other. What’s so strange?”

  “It wasn’t just any man I was with. It was you, Playboy Extraordinaire.”

  His jaw tightened, and he spoke through grit teeth. “Evie…”

  “I know,” she said quickly. “You’re not that guy anymore. But you were, and I just don’t measure up to the women I’ve seen you with before. Again, nervous, and insecure.”

  “Evie,” he said angrily, then stopped and took a calming breath. When he spoke again, his voice was much quieter, much gentler. “Evie, all those women you’d seen me with… They weren’t you.”

  She assumed he was throwing her words in her face, and was instantly defensive. “That’s what I’m saying. But I’m happy with me, so-”

  “No. You’re not getting this. I didn’t say you aren’t them. I’m saying they are not you. Get it?”

  She tried to read between the lines, but couldn’t. “No, I don’t understand.”

  He took another deep breath, then sat on the bench and pulled her down beside him. “Those other women were… just looking for a good time, and an easy lay with no strings, and… And they were blonde! All of them. Don’t forget that, cuz it’s important.”

  She felt herself getting angrier and angrier with every example he gave, and she was now seething. He could see it, and laughed, even at the risk of great personal injury.

  “You’re mad.”

  “No I’m not,” she snapped.

  “Yes you are,” he chuckled. “I can tell.”

  “Well, why did you have to say all that? I knew all that. You’re just proving my point.”

  “No, I’m proving my point.”

  “Which is?”

  “I purposely went after those kinds of women because they wouldn’t make me think of you.” He paused, and said slowly, “After I met you, I dated only blondes, because brunettes made me think of you, and I didn’t want to.”

  “Why am I so horrible?” she whispered.

  God, he was screwing this up! “You’re not horrible, Evelyn, you’re wonderful. After I met you, I only wanted you, so I dated the opposite of
you.”

  She frowned. “You mean you wanted a woman like me.”

  He shook his head. “No, not like you. Just you. Specifically you. And it freaked me out.”

  “Why? What’s wrong with me?” she demanded.

  “Nothing. That’s just it. I was used to coasting along with these women who meant nothing to me, expecting nothing from them and just having a good time. And then there you were, all smart and sexy and serious… I was gone, within seconds of meeting you. I knew exactly what I wanted, and you were it.”

  She was stunned. Never, in a million years, would she have guessed that. All this time she’d assumed she wasn’t his type, when in reality she was his only type and had indirectly caused the bad behavior she hated.

  Doubt filler her. “Are you sure? You’re not just saying this to make me feel worse after what I said?”

  He laughed disbelievingly. “I’m sure. How can I prove it to you?”

  “No. No more proving things.” She paused, looked up at him. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

  He sighed. “Denial, running from myself, at first. By the time I accepted it, you’d seen my ridiculousness for yourself. I knew you’d never have me. So, nerves and insecurities,” he said with a smile.

  “You couldn’t have known I wouldn’t have you.”

  He gave her a doubtful look. “Would you have?”

  She could have lied, but she didn’t. “Probably not. I might have gone out with you a few times, but I wouldn’t have thought you were serious, and it wouldn’t have lasted.”

  “See? Besides, I know I’m not good enough for you.”

  His words caught her off guard, but she had a different thought that made more sense to her. “Actually, I think that’s me.”

  “What?”

  “Look at us- You were perfect, trying to show me you’d changed. Meanwhile, I messed up, over and over, insulting you, judging you. I’m not good enough for you.”

  It surprised him that she’d say so, even if he didn’t believe it. After his behavior, she’d had every reason to doubt and judge him. “Well, if I’d told you sooner…”

  “Why would you? I gave you no room for mistakes, no inclination I’d believe you. You had no reason to put faith in me.”