A Kiss For You

by Rachel Van Dyken

  I laughed, feeling less like my heart was going to fall out of my chest.

  “Come on. It’ll be fun. You can get back on the horse. Or the Cody. Whatever.”

  I laughed, but my insides knotted up at the thought of riding anybody but Bodie. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

  She smiled and booped my nose. “Atta girl. It’s gonna be okay, Pen,” she said so softly and sincerely that I actually believed her.

  My liner was winged, my heels were high, my shorts were short, and my mood was about as sturdy as piecrust — a thin, golden buttery façade over the gooey, messy, blood-red cherry filling. But I found myself strutting into that bar on a mission that felt awfully real even if it was bullshit.

  Diesel was packed wall-to-wall with people. Everything in the bar was metal and brick and leather, dark and inky. The light fixtures were made of machine parts with naked bulbs and glowing filaments, and the bar itself was black brushed metal and my destination from the second we walked in the door.

  We wormed our way up to the bar with smiles and arm touches, parting the crowd like Moses. Veronica pushed me in front, and I squeezed in between a couple of guys to lean on the bar, rack on display.

  I spotted Cody at the other end of the bar, and he glanced at me and away before looking back to me with a whip of his head that was so fast, he might have sprained something. A slow smile spread across his face, and he jerked his chin at me in greeting.

  Cody was one of those gritty, dirty tattooed types with the irreverent beard and hair a little too long, pushed back from his face with ruts from his fingers. The gauges in his ears were just big enough to be big without being obscene, and he not only had his nostril and septum pierced, but he also had snakebites — two rings on his bottom lip where, if he were a rattlesnake, his fangs would rest.

  I’d had a boner for Cody since the first time I ever laid eyes on him, but he’d always had a girlfriend. I might love me some dick, but I’d never knowingly hook up with a guy with a girlfriend, so we’d kept it to flirting, but he was the number one reason why we used to come to Diesel. And when he made his way over, my insides went ballistic because:

  1. He was gorgeous.

  2. His eyes pinned me to the spot.

  3. He wasn’t Bodie, and him even looking at me like he was made me feel nineteen ways to wrong.

  Cody leaned on the bar right across from me, ignoring everyone around me who’d been waiting.

  “Damn, it’s good to see you, Penny. Where the hell have you been?”

  The guy next to me huffed and slapped a hand on the bar. “What the fuck, man? We’ve all been waiting longer than her.”

  Cody’s eyes went hard as he glared at the guy. “You don’t let a girl like this stand at the bar without giving her your full attention. And if you want a drink the rest of the night, I suggest you shut the fuck up and wait until I address you.”

  The guy pointed at Cody. “This is fucked up. Fuck this place!” And with that eloquent goodbye, he turned around and left.

  Cody turned back to me, his gaze smoldering again. “Double Patrón, chilled?”

  I smiled as discomfort twisted around in my stomach like snakes. “You remembered.”

  “Psh. You’re impossible to forget, Pen,” he said with a smirk, leaning a little closer. “Lean over.”

  I did, against my better judgment, and when I was half-bent over the bar, he leaned in close, his lips brushing my ear.

  “Alley-oop,” he said softly as he grabbed me by the waist and pulled.

  I took the cue and lifted myself as he helped me onto the bar. I spun around on my butt until my legs were on his side of the counter and my feet dangled just outside the shelves of liquor and glasses tucked under the bar top.

  My heart thundered its warning as I hung onto the edge and crossed my legs, locking my elbows and straightening my back. I felt like a pinup girl, and was pretty sure every eyeball in the bar was on me. A month ago, I would have been in hog heaven. In that moment, I’d rather be in a pig pen.

  Cody kept on smirking, pouring well more than two shots of Patrón into a shaker. “How’ve you been? It’s been too long since you’ve been in.”

  “Oh, I’ve been good. Just surviving.” Surviving Bodie was the rest of that sentence, but, color me crazy, it seemed like the wrong thing to say in the moment. “How about you?”

  He shook up my drink with his eyes dragging a path from my heels to the hem of my shorts, which were regrettably short. Sitting on a bar might sound sexy and brash and cavalier, but the truth was that it was sticky as fuck. I just hoped there was no grenadine. All I needed was a cherry stain on my ass to end the week on a high note.

  “I’ve been waiting for you to come in. Sheila and I broke up.”

  My mouth popped open, and I blinked, noticing that he was shaking that shaker at his waist like he was pumping his dick.

  “You’re kidding.” I had no idea what else to say.

  He shook his head, not looking sad in the slightest, probably because he had me sitting on the bar like a trophy. “It’s been over for a long time. Plus, I’ve had my sights set somewhere else.”

  Cody popped the top of the shaker and poured my drink, hooking a lime on the edge of the glass before handing it over. I took a sip, hands on my drink as he bracketed my crossed legs with his arms.

  I’d been waiting for this moment for months, and here it was. The filthy, hot, tattooed, pierced bartender of my dreams had literally picked me up and set me on the bar to tell me he wanted to bang me. A month ago, I would have climbed him like a jungle gym. But when he ran his hand down the curve of my calf, I laughed awkwardly and chased his hand with my own, redirecting it.

  “Straight to the point, huh, Cody?” I said, hoping I sounded cool. And then I swiveled around on the bar and hopped down, praying for that millisecond I wasn’t going to break my ankle. I didn’t, thankfully. “I’ll see you later,” I said over my shoulder with a smile.

  “I sure hope so,” he called after me as the crowd swallowed me.

  My smile fell faster than a GTO hits sixty, and I stomped my way around the bar, scanning for Veronica.

  I found her at a table. She was on her phone, texting so intently that she didn’t even see me stalk up.

  “Well, this is a fucking disaster,” I shot and took a heavy pull of tequila. Too heavy. My face pinched up, and I shook my head to set it back to rights.

  “What happened?” She eyed me.

  “He fucking hit on me, that’s what happened.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “And that’s … bad?”

  “Yes! I mean, no, but, yes! He and his girlfriend broke up, and he picked me up and set me on the bar and touched my leg and — ugh!”

  That stupid look in her eye was back, the one that said she had me right where she wanted me. “You had the white whale in your clutches, and you didn’t snag him?”

  I took another drink, this time more moderate. “Yep. I had Moby Fucking Dick in my harpoon sights, and not only am I uninterested, but I’m … what is this feeling?” My face fell. “Is this what it feels like to feel offended?”

  She laughed — that asshole.

  “Oh my God,” I groaned as I plopped onto a stool next to her. “I’m broken. Bodie broke me, and now I’m ruined.” My chest ached, and I slammed the rest of my tequila to burn the pain away. “I don’t want to do this, Ronnie.”

  Veronica smiled at that, just a little, just enough. “Well, well. I’m not gonna lie. I kind of hoped this would happen.”

  I sucked in a tiny breath and gaped at her. “Did you fucking set me up?”

  She shrugged. “I had a feeling you needed a push. I mean, you definitely needed a shower, so even if that was the only thing that came of tonight, I was going to call it a win.”

  I set my glass down with a clink and glared. “You dick.”

  But she reached for my arm, her eyes caring even if she was a douchebag. “Pen, you said you didn’t want to do this, Cody, tonight, boy-hunt, whatever. So w
hat other choice do you have? You want Bodie, right?”

  “Yeah, I do.” I didn’t know why I wanted to cry, but I did. It had been at least ten hours. I was due.

  “Then what are you gonna do about it?”

  A tingle worked across my skin, either from the tequila or the realization of the truth.

  I couldn’t go back because Old Penny didn’t exist anymore. Old Penny had lost her heart to Bodie.

  He had changed me, rearranged me, and as I sat in that bar with an empty glass in my hand, I knew I’d never be the same. Even if I’d fucked it up, even if I’d lost him forever, I’d learned something very important.

  I wanted to trust someone else with my heart.

  Bodie had shown me what it was like to be with someone I trusted, someone who cherished me and whom I wanted to cherish. He’d taught me that letting someone in was a risk, but the reward was immeasurable. I’d let him in, and I’d gotten hurt because I’d fought the feeling. For a second there, I’d fallen into him and let myself go, and that second had been so glorious, so perfect, that all I wanted to do was get the feeling back. I wanted to get him back. I wanted to give him everything in the same way he’d given everything to me.

  I loved the way he made me feel, loved his mind and body and soul, loved the way he cared for me, the way he’d let me breathe and given me exactly what I’d needed, even when it hurt him. Even when I hurt him.

  The truth of the matter dawned on me like a ray of sunshine, illuminating what I’d known all along.

  I didn’t want to trust just anyone with my heart. I wanted to give my heart to Bodie.

  It was already his.

  Right then, I knew I would do whatever it took to get him back. Even if it didn’t work and even if there was no way back to him, I had to try. I had to fight for him.

  The sweet relief of decision knocked all the weight off my shoulders so I could breathe again, and that pilot light in my ribs fired up, igniting me with purpose. And as an idea came to me, I only hoped he would give me one last chance.

  Bail

  I dropped my hands into the ocean on either side of my board to wet them and ran them through my drying hair. Jude and I had been waiting on a decent wave for long enough that I was ready to call it.

  I sighed and glanced down the line of surfers — all sitting on their boards off Rockaway Beach looking bored — then at the beach, dotted with sunbathers. It was my first session in New York, and if things had gone differently, Penny would have been one of those dots on the beach. She would have been my dot on the beach.

  I imagined her letting me teach her how to surf, imagined her on a board laughing, and my mood sank even further.

  “Ugh, man. Quit being so fucking mopey.”

  “This sucks. Let’s just go.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Quitter.”

  “Bro, this is bullshit. We rode the subway for an hour to get here with boards and wetsuits, and it’s nothing but closeouts. I told you to check the fucking reports, man.”

  “I did,” he said with a huff.

  “Liar. Nobody’s getting a decent ride today. It’s not happening, so why the fuck are we still sitting here? I mean, I appreciate you trying to cheer me up and all, but the longer we sit here, the more pissed I am.”

  “You’re just bitchy because of Penny.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him.

  He held up his hands. “Look, I’m not judging. I’m just saying.”

  “I’m not calling her, dude,” I said for the hundredth time.

  “I don’t see why not. We were busy before, but we did it. It’s over, so now you can figure out what you want to do about her. It couldn’t hurt to just talk to her.”

  I rested a hand on my thigh and turned to him, making a face. “Seriously? Because if I talk to her and she says the right thing, I’ll be right back where I started.”

  “Why’s that a bad thing?”

  “Because I don’t know if I can trust her. Don’t you think I want to call her? Don’t you think I want to go right back to the way things were? Because I do. I want to so bad, I can’t even stand it. But the problem is that there is no going back, and I don’t know if Penny’s capable of going forward.”

  “What if she is and you just don’t know it?”

  I sighed and shook my head. “I dunno, man. I don’t know if I’m ready to put myself through that again. I’m scared of her. I care too much not to be scared. Maybe I just need a little more time. Space.”

  “Yeah, because that’s going so well for you.”

  He wasn’t wrong. I’d been reserved and in my own head ever since the concert, even worse since she’d come over with tacos.

  I ran a hand over the smattering of stubble across my jaw. “I almost call her every day. I just don’t even know what to say or how to handle her. I don’t know what she wants from me or if I can even give it to her anymore. Because if she wants to pretend like we don’t care about each other, I’m out. I want her. I want her for keeps, and I’m through playing games.”

  “Then you need to tell her.”

  “Man, you don’t fucking get it. I can’t just tell her. I can’t guide her through this; she’s got to figure it out and let me know. If I tell her what I want, who’s to say she won’t agree without really understanding what I’m asking of her? I can be patient, but I can’t teach her this. I can’t tell her what to do or what she wants.”

  “Don’t you think she deserves the chance? She’s waiting on you.”

  “Yeah, well, she shouldn’t,” I said, my throat tight as I lay on my belly and paddled away, angling for a wave that wouldn’t last more than six feet, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to participate. I just wanted it all to go away.

  I popped up onto my feet and rode the wave until it folded in on itself. When the barrel disappeared, I bailed, diving off my board and into the ocean, opening my eyes underwater to watch the wave roll away from me upside down, taking my hope with it.

  What Part Of σ=λ(∇·u)I+2με Don't You Understand?

  The whiskey in my hand was cold, but it went down warm as I walked around the party the following night, trying to have a good time and failing miserably.

  Jude had the idea to throw a party to celebrate our dreams coming true, and maybe if I’d lived in New York for more than a month, I would have been having a better time. Maybe if I knew anyone in New York besides Jude, Phil, and Penny, I’d have someone to talk to. But Jude was busy working the crowd, Phil was busy with Angie, and Penny was, of course, not there.

  I paced through the people scattered all over the roof of our building, a common space strung with lights and dotted with islands of chairs. Everyone seemed to be having a good time — we’d even sprung for a DJ who spun actual records and a bartender who we’d tipped extra to get everybody tanked.

  I walked to the edge of the patio, looking toward Central Park, the strip of darkness cradled in the light of the city with Penny on my mind, as she always was.

  Jude and I had come home from Rockaway the day before with almost complete silence between us. Well, Jude had talked a lot, and I’d listened and responded when I was supposed to. But the whole way, I had thought about what he’d said, and when I had been alone in my room, I’d held my phone in my hand for a long time, thinking about calling her.

  Because he was right; she deserved the chance to tell me what she wanted, and I needed to know. I just didn’t know if I was really ready to hear it if it wasn’t what I wanted to hear.

  And that was the real truth of it. It was easier to leave that door open and wonder than to hear that she didn’t want me like I wanted her.

  But Penny had bolted after all, and I couldn’t make her stay. In the end, she’d bucked me off and left me stranded.

  She was wild, and I should have known better than to try to hold on to her.

  Of course, the other thing about loving something wild was how it changed you. And I’d found myself changed for the better — having he
ld her for a moment — and for the worse — the wounds from my grip on her still fresh and tender.

  A deep sigh did little to vent the pressure in my chest, and I turned to head inside, exhausted beyond measure.

  Jude was striding toward me looking suspiciously subversive, and my eyes narrowed. He’d been barring me from going downstairs all night.

  I held up a hand. “I’m going down. Don’t try to stop me.”

  He smiled. “It’s cool. I won’t. You’ve fulfilled your obligations tonight, so go ahead and mope all by yourself while we party until dawn.”

  I shook my head and rolled my eyes. “That trick doesn’t work on me.”

  Jude shrugged. “Had to try.”

  He clapped me on the shoulder, and I headed for the stairs, lost in my thoughts, grateful to be alone as I trotted down to our apartment.

  Except when I walked inside, I wasn’t alone at all. And when I saw her standing before me, time stopped.

  Penny stood in front of our computers next to a blank chalkboard on wheels looking afraid and hopeful and absolutely beautiful. Her hair was purple again and spilling over her shoulders, her fingers toying with the short hem of her gauzy black dress that was sweet, almost demure, though she hung onto her edge with the deep V and strip of broad lace around her waist where her skin peeked through.

  My heart jumped in my chest like it was reaching for her, and my throat closed up, jammed with a hundred things I felt and wished for and wanted. A question was on my lips, and I opened them to speak, but she took a breath and beat me to the punch.

  “They call me Pi because I’m irrational and I don’t know when to stop.”

  A single laugh burst out of me, and she smiled, relaxing just a little as she stepped closer to the chalkboard.

  She drew a line with a shaky hand, then drew another perpendicular line in the center to make a right angle. “I’m not always right.” She drew another line at about the one hundred twenty degree mark. “And I know I’ve been obtuse.” Her final line was at around the forty-five degree point. “But luckily I’m acute psycho, which makes me a little easier to deal with.”