His Virgin Bride

A Fake Marriage Romance

Kara Hart

Kara Hart

Contents

Prologue: Olivia Westman

1. Dr. James Mason

2. Olivia

3. James

4. Olivia

5. James

6. Olivia

7. James

8. Olivia

9. James

10. Olivia

11. James

12. Olivia

13. Olivia

14. James

15. Olivia

16. James

17. Olivia

18. James

19. Olivia

20. James

21. Olivia

22. James

23. Olivia

24. James

25. Olivia

26. James

27. Olivia

28. James

29. Olivia

30. James

31. Olivia

32. James

33. Olivia

34. James

Epilogue: Olivia

35. Author’s Note:

Untitled

36. Walker

37. Erica

38. Walker

39. Erica

40. Walker

41. Erica

42. Erica

43. Walker

44. Erica

45. Erica

46. Walker

47. Erica

48. Walker

49. Erica

50. Walker

51. Erica

52. Walker

53. Erica

54. Walker

55. Erica

56. Walker

57. Erica

58. Walker

59. Erica

60. Walker

61. Erica

62. Walker

63. Erica

64. Erica

65. Walker

66. Erica

67. Walker

68. Erica

69. Walker

70. Erica

71. Author’s Note:

Untitled

72. Helena

73. Addison

74. Helena

75. Addison

76. Helena

77. Addison

78. Helena

79. Addison

80. Helena

81. Addison

82. Helena

83. Addison

84. Helena

85. Addison

86. Helena

87. Addison

88. Helena

89. Addison

90. Helena

91. Addison

92. Helena

93. Addison

94. Helena

95. Helena

96. Addison

97. Helena

98. Addison

99. Addison

100. Helena

101. Addison

102. Helena

103. Addison

104. Author’s Note:

Untitled

Prologue: Marshall

105. Virginia

106. Marshall

107. Virginia

108. Marshall

109. Virginia

110. Marshall

111. Virginia

112. Marshall

113. Virginia

114. Marshall

115. Virginia

116. Marshall

117. Virginia

118. Marshall

119. Virginia

120. Marshall

121. Virginia

122. Marshall

123. Marshall

124. Virginia

125. Marshall

126. Virginia

127. Marshall

128. Virginia

129. Virginia

130. Marshall

131. Virginia

132. Marshall

133. Virginia

134. Marshall

135. Marshall

136. Virginia

137. Marshall

138. Virginia

139. Marshall

140. Author’s Note:

Untitled

Prologue: Jackson Leeman

141. Fiona Breckinridge

142. Jackson

143. Fiona

144. Jackson

145. Fiona

146. Jackson

147. Fiona

148. Jackson

149. Fiona

150. Jackson

151. Fiona

152. Jackson

153. Fiona

154. Jackson

155. Fiona

156. Jackson

157. Fiona

158. Jackson

159. Fiona

160. Jackson

161. Fiona

162. Jackson

163. Fiona

164. Jackson

165. Fiona

166. Jackson

167. Fiona

168. Jackson

169. Fiona

Other Bad Boy Books by Kara Hart!

Author’s Note

Prologue: Olivia Westman

“This can’t last forever,” I think to myself. “Can it?” I open my eyes and see his chiseled body, towering above mine. His cocky smile shines against the bedroom lighting. He’s perfect, dammit. Perfectly smug. But he’s dying for me. He needs me.

“I’m a lucky man,” he says. His fingers trace down my stomach, pushing past my navel. I breathe in deeply, exhaling hard.

I didn’t think I’d be here right now. My plan was to finish school and leave this place. I thought I’d meet someone in class. You know, someone more my age. I thought I’d fall in love, as that man promised me the world. Now, I’m in here, in his bed. My doctor, for Christ’s sake. How the hell did this happen?

“It will have to be our secret,” I tell him. “No one can know about this.”

His fingers move further down. I shudder when he reaches my wetness, the one spot I was told was a sacred place I would want to keep untarnished, nearly forever. This has never happened to me before. I’ve never been touched like this, never been treated like a real woman.

“You’re nervous,” he says.

I nod my head and gulp down hard. “Sorry,” I say. “I’m not nervous. I’m just excited.” This man is not your husband. He’ll never be yours. Why are you giving him what he wants?

“Just relax,” he whispers. “Let me guide you.”

Does he care that I’m a virgin? Does it turn him on more that I am? As his fingers slowly enter me, I gasp for air. I grab onto the bed sheets. My legs push into the mattress as his tongue covers me. Maybe he knows. Maybe he doesn’t. Either way, I’m not telling him that yet.

“Guide me, doctor,” I whisper. “Tonight, I’m all yours.”

Dr. James Mason

“I don’t know how much longer she has,” I sigh. I look away and try not to get emotional. I’m the best doctor this city has to offer, yet I’m powerless in these situations. There’s nothing I can do. If a patient has reached this stage in their disease, I have to stand tall and tell the family that hopes and prayers are the only things left for them to give. This time, however, it’s different. Much different.

“James,” my father whispers. “I thought…” His head lowers, as he begins to weep. My own father. I didn’t sign up for this. I never wanted to see this happen, though I knew it could happen someday.

“I know,” I say. “I thought there were more options. I thought I could do something. I’ve failed my own family. I’m so—”

“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry,” Jenna, my sister, says. She’s always been strong. In a lot of ways, she’s stronger than me. Women have to deal with a hell of a lot and I know she’s done her best to keep this family afloat, while I left all those years to go to medical school.

“You did everything that you could,” she says. “And I love you for that.”

“We don’t blame you,” my father says. “We knew the limits. Science just hasn’t progressed fast enough.”

I look at the awards on my wall. They’re all so fucking meaningless. Best Surgeon 2017. Doctor of the year… Who fucking cares? When people are dying, is there time for any of that bullshit? Fuck no. We all go to the ceremonies and clap as loud as we can, so we can feel proud about what we do. But the suffering continues. Diseases continue to kill us off. Now, one has taken my own mother. Not yet, but soon.

“Thank you,” I tell them, shielding my eyes. I can’t fucking cry. I can’t waste the energy on tears. There has to be other options. Of course, there aren’t any. Please, God… help us through this time of pain.

As my family funnels out of the hospital, I walk with them. “You know,” my father starts speaking slow and methodical, “I’ve had the best life with your mother. It’s been long and full of happiness. I don’t regret a thing.”

“I know. You deserve more than this, though, Dad,” I say.

“No. This is life. We deserve whatever we get. Life is pain, but we can get something out of that pain, can’t we?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” I say.

“Well, I do. I’ve lived long enough to know that much. I have one thing left to ask you,” he says. I nod and he continues, “I’d like to see you happier. I’d like to see you work less. I know it’s your passion, but, son, you need a woman. You need someone who you can love and trust, and fall back on. If there’s one thing I ask of you it’s this: find someone you love. Hold onto them and never let go.”

“I’ll try, Dad,” I whisper. But I don’t have time for any of that. I save lives. That’s what I do. People rely on me. How can I rely on somebody else?

“Don’t try. Just do it,” he says. “Because time moves fast. Believe me, if you don’t find her, you’ll regret it.”

“Life is about family,” I nod. It’s something he’s been telling us since we were children. Family is everything. It’s the water in our body, the blood flowing through our veins. It’s what connects us and continues life itself. My sister found love ten years ago. As for me, well, I never found it. Maybe I wasn’t looking hard enough.

“Damn right it is,” he says. “You’re damn right.”

“I’ll meet you at the house later?” I ask him.

“Yes. We’ll be there,” he whispers, solemnly. The house. Where Mom used to live. The place where all our memories were formed.

We part ways, but only for the time being. I can’t help but dwell on my father’s words. “You need a woman.” A woman can’t solve your problems. What I’ve learned is that only you and you alone can solve your problems. There aren’t any magic switches in this life. Women come and women go. That’s just a fact. I love my father, but he’s wrong about a few things. Pussy is temporary. That’s final.

Olivia

“One more weed until we’re done. Can you believe it?” Josie is the beautiful, neurotic, blonde friend I met on the first day of classes here. San Diego University. We’re both about to get our degree in Health Studies, which essentially means that when I get out of here, I’ll have to run a juice bar or something. Still, she’s excited about school being over. As for me, I was kind of hoping to have another year left, somehow. How the heck am I supposed to go out into the real world? I’m practically still a child.

“I can believe it,” I tell her. “In fact, I’m pretty much dreading it at this point.”

“You’re insane. It’s because you haven’t gotten laid yet, isn’t it?” she asks. Her question comes complete with a twisted smile.

“Why do you always bring that up?” I sigh and continue walking. My schoolbooks sit jammed in my backpack, pressed against my back. If I ever get scoliosis, it’s because of my years here. If I ever go completely broke, it’ll be because of the same damn thing.

“Because I feel for you, girl. Seriously. Like, you don’t know what you’re missing out on,” she says.

“So it’s like this magic switch, huh? Once a cock goes into my vagina, I’ll feel the weight of the world drop from my shoulders?” I ask the question, but I don’t expect any real answers. The door to the outside courtyard of the Health and Sciences building is right in front of us. Josie swings it open and I feel the spring air hit my face. Sex can’t be better than this weather. It just can’t be.

“Actually yes!” she cackles. “Finals week? I call Eric. Parents getting a divorce? I call Samuel. Car accident? I call both of them and listen to them fight over me.”

“Who the hell is Samuel?” I ask her.

“Just some guy I met last week at that party,” she shrugs. “He’s going to be a doctor.” She makes a puffed-out gesture with her chest and laughs. I laugh with her, although I’m not too sure what we’re laughing about.

“You know I choose to be a…” I stop myself from saying the word. There’s just too many people around right now and, frankly, it’s embarrassing that anyone even knows.

“A virgin?” Josie blurts out. A couple of girls walking next to us giggle to themselves as I turn beet red and look around for a nice bush to hide in. No one understands me on this subject. To the world, I’m kind of a freak, but I value the perfect experience.

“I value the idea of love,” I tell her, proudly.

“Oh, God,” she groans and slumps over. “You’d think four years at university would sharpen your critical faculties a bit.”

“What?! I don’t get everyone’s deal. What’s so wrong with having values?” We sit down in the center-left of the courtyard. I swing my backpack onto the ground and hunch over the table.

“Love is a societal and cultural construct. It’s an idea men use to indoctrinate women into getting married and having babies. All those Disney cartoons… do relationships ever really work out that way? Hell no. You fall for someone and, if you’re lucky, a couple years later you can meet someone new and fall for them,” she says.

“Look,” I tell her. “I don’t need the women’s studies lecture. I took that course two years ago.”

“I’m just saying…” She smiles and pulls out a cigarette.

“I get that your parents are going through this new divorce thing. I hope you know that I’ll always be here for you,” I say. “In my opinion, life is what you make it. If I want it to be a goddamn fairytale, it’s going to be a fairytale.”

“You’re really going to wait until you’re like thirty to have sex with someone?” she asks. I don’t even try to answer. This whole conversation is getting out of hand this point. I simply put a hand up in the air, to try and change the subject, but she’s on a roll. “No, seriously. Don’t cut me off. This is an important topic. Let me get this straight. You’re going to fall in love and marry someone without knowing what sex is like with other people?”

“I don’t need to know. I’ve seen movies. I’ve read books. I do know the repercussions,” I argue.

“So, you’re turning into one of those evangelicals now?” she asks.

“Just drop it, already!” I nearly scream.

“Fine.” She rolls her eyes.

We both grab our books and attempt to go over the faux final that our professor gave us in our last class. Yet, there’s an awkward gap between us and I feel like I have to say something, so I do. I say, “Look, I’m going to leave it at this. I know exploration and this whole self-discovery thing is a big deal to you, but it’s not for me. I just want to meet someone who’s different from the rest of them. If it doesn’t work and we have sex, it’s fine. I’m not a puritan. I masturbate. I sometimes watch pornography.”

“You dirty girl, you,” she laughs.

“I’m being honest with you!” I laugh with her. “I guess I’m just wary of most men’s intentions.”

“Well, that’s probably good, I guess. Most men just want to pillage and conquer,” she says. “Sometimes I find myself acting during sex, just to make them feel like a king. You know?”

I shake my head. “No,” I say. “We should start studying.”

“Yeah, I guess,” she says.

So what? I’m a virgin. Is it that big of a deal? I’ll find someone eventually. Like, in ten years when I can finally pay off my student loans.

James

“He’s not doing too well, is he?” I ask my sister. Her eyes are dry and red, while I’ve been fighting back the tears all fucking night. She’s strong as hell.

“No. Not really,” she says. We’re outside, divided by the glass windows of the house. Near the bushes, we stand shadowed as siblings. Her hand is shaking as she lights a joint and takes a deep inhale. “Want some?”

“No thanks,” I mutter.

“C’mon, James. It’ll help,” she prods.

“Jenna, I’m a doctor,” I laugh.

“Oh. Right.” She takes another long drag and slumps against the wooded house. “I don’t know about dad. I think he knew this was coming. You know, we’re all getting older. He knows how to handle this stuff.”

“He wants me to get married,” I tell her. When I say the word “married,” my lips twitch slightly and I have to try hard not to look unenthusiastic about the idea.

“Family is everything, right?” she smiles.

“I don’t disagree with the notion. I’d rather just not dive into it yet,” I say.

“You will when you’re ready. Though, he’s got a point. You’re thirty-five now. Eventually, it’s going to be too late to do all those family things,” she says.

“Yeah. It’s just that most women are…” I stop speaking when I see a lone cat walk across the street.

“Most people aren’t worth the time. I get it,” she says. Her special cigarette has now burned halfway. The lit embers pulse downward, toward her fingers. She takes another drag.

“Exactly. Plus, I’m a fucking surgeon. I barely have any time for myself these days,” I say.

“Marriage isn’t a cake walk. Let me tell you,” she laughs and throws the joint. Then, she closes her eyes, but tilts her head up at the shining moon.

“I bet,” I say. “We should go inside. Dad will be wanting to have the honorary drink with his son soon.”

“It’s a good tradition. But I prefer the honorary joint with the sister,” she says.

I put my arm around her shoulder and smile. “Things will get better sis. They always do. Even in these circumstances.”

A tear falls from her eye. She tries her hardest to shield her face from me. No other tears form after that. “I know they will,” she says.

But the memories are all too perfect. There were the winters up north. There were the summers at the beach. Mom holding the whole family together, always with a giant smile on her face. Yes, everything was far too perfect, which is why this is so fucking hard for everyone.

I walk inside and quickly analyze the situation. As a surgeon, this is what I’m trained to do. If there’s a problem, there has to be a solution. Of course, the sad realization is that we haven’t caught up with our desires. Not yet, at least. We’re still fucking floundering and my mom is on her deathbed. My dad hasn’t got a clue as to what to do and for the first time in my life, I don’t either.

We just sit and wait. We drink. We stare. We laugh sometimes when we think about certain memories, but that always comes back to the one fact that remains. Someone we love is dying.

Later, my father gives me a glass of scotch and motions me to follow him to the study. “How are you holding up?” I ask him.

“Never ask a man that sort of question. He’ll always lie,” he says, with a slight smirk to his lips, though they never rise too high.

“I suppose you’re right,” I nod.

“I wanted to give you something.” He walks toward his desk and sits down on the red leather chair behind it. Setting the drink down on an elegant coaster, he sighs and shakes his head. “What a day, huh?”

I keep silent. I wasn’t prepared for this, but I’m going to remain strong for my family. Whatever he needs from me, I’ll be there. “Remember when I bought Jenna that cabin in the woods up north?” he asks me.

“Yeah,” I laugh. “I was pretty pissed.”

“It was a modest marriage present,” he jokes. “You see, I’ve always had a plan for you too.”

“A plan?” I ask him. I lean against the bookcase, filled with endless pages, quite possibly never read.

“Family, son. It’s all that matters. But now, life has reared its ugly face at us, causing us to act faster than normal. There was something I wanted to give you, as well,” he says.

“I don’t need much,” I tell him. “I just want to be here for everyone.”

“That’s exactly my point. Someday, you’ll be in a similar situation to me. You’ll understand the importance of everything then, I’m sure,” he says. He reaches for his glass and takes a drink. The ice lightly taps against the inside, near the rim. “This house is our house. We don’t pay a thing for it anymore. Well, nearly.”

“I love this place,” I tell him. It’s up in the mountains, yet not too far away from civilization. Outside the window are the endless lights of the city.

“I know you do. Your sister never cared much for it. But you… you’ve always had a fondness for escape, even if you are an extrovert. It’s the perfect place for a man like you. That’s why I want to gift it to you,” he says.

“Gift it to me? Dad, I can’t accept that,” I whisper.

“Well, if you don’t, it’s going to Aunt Carolina,” he laughs. “And then you’ll never see the inside of this room again.”

“Yeah, because she’ll turn it into the cat grooming area,” I laugh with him. “I guess I can’t let that happen, huh?”

“No, you can’t,” he says, buckling down once more. “This gift comes with one special condition.”

One special condition. Everything comes with conditions in this family. I sigh and look him in the eyes. “What condition?” I ask him. This is starting to feel like a business deal gone wrong.

“That you find a woman and marry her,” he says. “And you better do it before I leave this earth, dammit.”

“Dad, you’re healthy. You’re going to be around for a long time,” I tell him. It’s true. Even at his age, he’s looking five to ten years healthier than most men. The Mason family has always had good genes.

“Stop ignoring what I just told you. I’m being serious, James,” he says.

“Marriage,” I sigh once more. Fuck me. “That’s what you want out of me?”

“Love. Family. Real happiness. Continue the family name,” he says. “Find a nice girl who hasn’t been tainted by society yet. I know that’s what you’re after.”

“You’re old school,” my father used to tell me. I’m not sure if I am, but he’s at least a little bit right. The women I come across at bars or in clubs, even at fancy restaurants are not the women I’m after. Everyone is constantly staring at their devices, their television screens. They’re too afraid to confront what’s in front of them. Not me. I confront death on a daily basis. I deal with tumors the size of fucking watermelons. I’ve seen horrible things and because I’ve faced my fears head on, I’ve grown as a man.

“It would take me ages to find someone I like,” I say. “And I’m not sure the whole marriage thing is for me.”

“Spoken like a true progressive. Well, if you can’t do it, you can’t do it. The house will go to Aunt Carolina. Cheers.” He holds up his glass in the air.

“I’ll try my best,” I say.

What the hell do I even mean? The house is definitely going to Aunt Carolina, that asshole. But I can’t lie to myself. There isn’t anyone special out there for me. It’s just me vs. the world. It always has been.

Olivia

I sit next to Josie in the lecture hall. One more stupid lecture in this class before the big tests. I can barely pay attention. Josie scrolls through her phone mindlessly, as I stare at the front podium. Professor Harinjer is telling the class that he’s brought a world-renown surgeon in. Dr. James Mason. “He’s here to tell you about the wonders of the human body,” he says.

Josie looks up and rolls her eyes, but as soon as the man walks out on stage, she smiles. “Holy shit. I’d love for him to show me the wonders of the human body,” she says.

“Him? Really?” Now I’m the one rolling my eyes. I squint at the doctor to get a better look. He’s a good looking man, that’s for sure. He’s masculine, strong, and obviously holds a pretty good title to his name. But that whole surgeon world is filled with creeps. “Anyway, it’s not like you’re going to get the chance.”

“Is that a challenge?” she asks me.

“No, it’s not,” I groan. “Not everything is a challenge.”

“Now I’m definitely going to talk to him after class,” she says, slapping her hand on her desk. A student next to her turns and glances over at us, annoyed.

“Do whatever you want,” I whisper.

“You know what?” A big, stupid grin forms on her face. A plan. She’s formed a plan for me and I know it’s going to be something I don’t like.

“I don’t want to know, Josie. Just leave me out of this,” I say. “I have a shit ton of studying to do tonight and you’re already messing with my head.”

“Yes, I’ve got the best idea. I’m going to set you two up!” she whispers.

“Josie,” I snarl. “Do not talk to him about me. Do whatever you want, but leave me the hell out of it!”

“You always said you wanted to meet someone decent. This man is definitely decent. He’s a fucking eleven on the hotness scale. No, he’s a twenty. Look at his left hand. See a ring? I didn’t think so. He’s totally single, rich, and he saves lives every single day. If that’s not a good candidate to dick you down, I don’t know who is,” she says.

“Dick me down? Ew. You truly are disgusting,” I whisper. “And it’s not about status for me. It’s about feeling.”

“Yeah. Right. Feeling. Have fun with your Xbox obsessed boyfriends. You’re going to have a real time with all of them,” she says. I don’t know what to say. I don’t need anyone right now. I’m good by myself. “This is your chance to go out with someone important, someone incredible.”

“You don’t even know if he wants to! Why are you making all of these assumptions?” I ask. Oh, jeez. Am I really going along with this? No. I can’t do that.

“You’re the hottest girl on this campus,” she hisses. “Stop being stupid.”

“He’ll want to go for one of those sorority types,” I tell her.

“Doubt it. He’s in his thirties. He’s going to want something different,” she says. She shifts her voice into a cutesy, squished sound. “And you’re so innocent. So fresh. The virgin princess, ready for the big doctor.”

“Shut up,” I blush.

She stops, but keeps her eyes on me for an extra second. She’s right. Now, I can’t stop staring at him. His perfect teeth, hair, and dark eyes. Who is this man? What’s his story? Oh, who even cares? Am I really going to go through with this?

* * *

The alarm rings and he exits out the back of the building. Josie whispers, “Dammit!” She grabs my hand and pulls me toward the back exit. We quickly run around the building and see him heading for the parking lot. “Doctor?” she calls out with haste. He turns around, confused.

I feel my heart quickly beating. This is so fucking stupid. What the hell are we doing? I can hear Josie’s voice in my head saying, “Live a little.” Well, I don’t need to live. I need to go home and study. That’s it.

“Doctor!” she yells once more. He catches our eyes with a hesitant smile.

“Can I help you?” he asks.

His smile. That damn smile. That damn pose he’s making, like he’s the best man in the world, the man to solve everyone’s problems. His hands lay smug in his pockets, as he waits for Josie’s response.

“It was a great lecture,” Josie blurts out.

“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it, ladies.” He smiles and fishes for his car keys. “I should be going though. I have a few things scheduled today.”

“I mean, my friend really enjoyed it,” she says, nudging me in the arm. Her nudge pushes me forward, until I’m right in front of him. Our lips nearly touch before I can reach out and balance myself… on his chest. Oh, God. Why does Josie always put me in situations like this?

“Sorry,” I mumble.

“Is it true?” he asks, staring at me. For a second, I see his eyes move up and down my body. I blink and he’s back to looking at my eyes. Maybe I’m imagining things. “You liked the lecture?”

“I did,” I lie. Truth is, I wasn’t paying too much attention. For the whole class period, I was staring at my notes or dealing with Josie’s rants about how I need to talk to this man. Well, here I am, talking.

He laughs at my answer, but it’s a friendly laugh. It’s the kind of laugh that lets you know someone understands the situation. I turn a deep shade of red, once again.

“Now, who in their right mind actually enjoys a lecture? Man, I hated going to those things,” he says.

“I’m interested in the state of our country’s health. I think there’s a long way to go in medicine, but it starts with some pretty simple life decisions,” I say. My inner voice is telling me: Stop! Stop speaking now, Olivia. You don’t even know what you’re saying at this point.

But he doesn’t mind. He just nods his head in total understanding. In fact, it seems like he’s actually interested in talking more about this with me. Maybe this is my ticket into something bigger. Maybe I’ve found someone who can help me out after graduation.

“I completely agree,” he says. His eyes crease as he nods. “There’s a lot that needs to be done in every field right now.”

“It’s a bit hard with all of the corporate funding getting in the way. It seems like we could be making huge advances, but of course, there are the lobbyists,” I say.

Now, Josie is staring at me like I’m a crazy person. “Totally,” she says with a look of confusion.

His tone begins to change. “You’re actually interested in this stuff, aren’t you?” he asks.

He puts his hand on my shoulder. I awkwardly step back and he immediately takes his fingers off of me. At first, I’m tempted to tell him to “fuck off.” Yet, there’s a part of me that wants to say, “It’s okay, pull me into your arms.” It’s something I hardly ever feel and right now, I have no idea how to make sense of it.

My mouth is dry, but I swallow down and give a faint smile. “It’s my life passion. I want to help people,” I say.

He shifts his position into a more comfortable stance. With one hand, he runs his fingers through his hair. He’s perfect. He’s god damn perfect. “You remind me of myself, back when I first went to school,” he says.

“I graduate in a few weeks. I’m just excited to start doing this,” I say. Right. Excited. More like terrified. More like what the hell am I going to do with a health degree?

“Well, I’d be happy to talk more about this,” he says. “How about tomorrow? My office.”

I gulp down hard and feel my body start to shake. Josie gives a look that says, “If you don’t go, I’ll never speak to you again.” Am I going to do this? Am I going to step inside his office to talk about the current health situation facing America? Or is this a ploy that all men make when they want something? Still, even facing these questions, I can’t help but give in to curiosity.

“I would love that,” I say. “Tomorrow sounds good. I get out of class at noon.”

“Great,” he claps his hands together and swings his keys around his finger. “I’ll see you at 1 PM? Here’s my card. Call me if you get lost. The name’s James by the way. You don’t have to call me doctor.”

“Okay,” I stutter. “James. I’m Olivia.”

He touches my arm as he turns to walk away. Goose bumps dart across my body. “Nice meeting you two. See you tomorrow, Olivia,” he says.

There’s no mention of Josie’s name, but she’s smiling anyway. As he walks straight to his car and opens the door, she nudges me once more and opens her big, stupid mouth. “Oh. My. God!” she squeals. “I cannot. I just can’t.”

“Stop, Josie,” I groan. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“I’m unbearably proud of myself right now.” She smiles.

As for me, I’m unbearably wet. My panties are soaked, all the way to the edges. “You shouldn’t be,” I tell her. But honestly, I haven’t felt this excited in years.

James

A speaking function here, a check there. It’s all in a good day’s work. The universities pay big money to have a guy like me come in and talk about the basics, so of course I’m going to do it. What I didn’t expect was that completely hot bombshell of a brunette to come my way.

“She’s a student,” I keep telling myself. Shit, she’s probably a freshman. I can’t be thinking about young women like that. Still, I couldn’t help myself, could I? If she was to call right now and say, “Come fuck me, doctor,” I’d be driving to her place right fucking now. Even when I was leaving, I had to sneak one more peek at that ass of hers.

She’s innocent, dammit. And, of course, that’s why I like her so much. Innocent. Pure. I haven’t been with a woman like that in a long time. My dad’s words come into my mind and I have to physically remove myself from my desk in order not to dwell too much on that. No, I’m not marrying any women. I’m admiring. Can’t a man just admire without feeling the gnawing idea of marriage?

Apparently not. Which is why I can’t go too far into the hole with this one. I shouldn’t make assumptions either. She’s probably just genuinely into my research, the facts, and the state of our healthcare system. Yeah, that’s it. She’s not trying to fuck me. She’s just a well-to-do student.

I burst out laughing at the thought and my door swings open. Neil Johnson, the chief surgeon at this hospital peeks his head in. “What’s so funny, Mason?” he asks me. Mason. He only calls me by last name because he knows I hate it when he does it.

“We’re not at football practice, Neil,” I groan. Then I remember he asked me about the laughing. Shit, I probably seem insane right about now. Here I am, sitting in my office, while my mother is going through the last rounds of “treatment.” Her deathbed is near and I’m laughing.

“How are you holding up?” he asks. He pulls up a chair and sits down.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m just sort of floating by,” I admit. “I’m sorry, man. This whole year has been a fucking mess. Right now, I’m just trying to make sense of it all.”

“Don’t apologize. You remember how it was last year,” he says.

Last year, his father had gotten into a horrible car accident. Drunk driver turning left. His dad never stood a chance, as the grinding metal made its way toward his vehicle. He was the man who had to operate on his own father. He was the man that had to watch the life fade from him. He was the man who called the time of death.

This place isn’t to be celebrated. We clap at our award ceremonies and fundraiser dinners, as if we’ve achieved the highest glory a man can attain. In the end, we have to lie in our beds. It’s us who has to realize we haven’t done a damn thing. We’re still powerless over the sublime power of nature. We can always take one step forward, yet somehow, we’re always pushed back three.

“So, I get it,” he continues. “Maybe it’s not the best time to mention this, but you’re still the best damn surgeon at this hospital. Your work hasn’t decreased in value during this whole thing and I just want to commend you on that. You’re doing good work.”

“Yeah. Well, it doesn’t feel that way. It feels like I’ve done nothing. There just aren’t enough options,” I say. And there it is. That pain in my heart. It rushes in and swells, until finally it turns numb. My face feels cold. My limbs hang like they’re weighted.

“You’re lying to yourself. You’ve done more than most people in the seven years you’ve been here. Hell, I wish I had accomplished what you have in that span of time,” he says. “As for options… well, you’re right. There never seems to be enough we can do. I don’t have a real response to that, Mason.”

“James,” I correct him and a smile forms on both our faces.

“You know what you need?” he laughs and shakes his head. “Don’t take this the wrong way or anything.”

“Oh, God. More advice, huh?” I ask. “Go on. Give it to me. I guess I could use some advice right about now.”

“It’s the soundest advice a doctor can ever give you.” He winks and leans back in his chair. He looks smug and content. “You need a woman, Mason.”

A mixture of groaning and laughter comes out of my mouth. “Why does everyone in the world keep telling me that?”

“It should be obvious. Pussy is the magic elixir of the world. Pussy makes the world go ‘round. Pussy can heal a man. Trust me. I’ve seen it happen,” he says, all with a giant, cocky smile. I have to smile back.

“I’ll be sure to get some… pussy,” I say. He couldn’t even use the sound medical term? He just goes straight for the “pussy.” Now, I can’t stop repeating it in my head.

“No prospects?” he asks.

“I don’t know. I haven’t really been keeping an eye out for it,” I say. “In fact, the whole idea of wining and dining some broad just so I can go home and feel good about myself just doesn’t sound too appealing. And now my father wants me to settle down and get married. You know, the whole circle of life thing. Life, work, marriage, children, grandchildren, and death. That’s how that man operates.”

“Forget about all of that. Marriage is an antiquated idea. You’re not going to find what you want by getting married,” he says. “Unless of course, you want a divorce, alimony payments, and two annoying, little children begging for the money you’ve earned.”

“I forgot about your divorce. That was almost ten years ago and you’re still bitter,” I laugh.

“Alimony payments for life. Shit, it’s not fun. The court system doesn’t rule in our favor. All I’m saying is be careful. Your father’s a great guy, but he comes from a different time. Just have fun as much as you can without hurting anyone. That’s all you can do these days,” he says. He slides his chair back and sighs. “Well, I should be going. Tons of shit to take care of. I’ve got the board down my ass over this expansion.”

“Good luck,” I say. He waves a hand and exits the office.

Marriage. No, that’s not something that sounds very appealing right now. Divorce and all of that. It happens to everyone now, doesn’t it? Plus, I’m a fucking surgeon. The amount of hours I work is enough to drive any woman crazy. She’d leave within a year.

Still, he may be right about one thing. Pussy does make a man feel like he’s on top of the world. What was her name? Olivia? Well, if she calls, I’m inviting her over.

Olivia

I’ve got a crush. It’s a stupid schoolgirl crush and it’s totally embarrassing. I feel like I’m in high school again. James Mason. Total hottie surgeon #1. I should circle a heart around his name and kiss it endlessly. Oh fuck, what have I become?

No, what I should do is completely forget about him and Josie. Then I’ll be in the right spot of things. Then I can focus on my life after school. But when I’m in bed, I can’t help but stare at his card. Surgeon James Mason. He’s at least humble. It just says his name and his number.

I close my eyes and imagine what it would be like to go on one date with him. Maybe he’d take me to a nice restaurant, overlooking the lake. Or maybe he’d show me his favorite bar, somehow posh and hidden at the same time. And then, as I’m starting to feel the alcohol loosen me up, his hand might slide up my inner thigh.

Of course, I’d tell him to stop. But he’d answer my protests with an arrogant smile. He’s not the man to say no to. He only responds to my faint moaning, my teeth dragging across my lip, and the sight of tongue, flat against the bottom of my mouth.

He’d keep his hand moving and I’d feel the warmth rise up into my body, starting from my core, up to my face. I’d grow so fucking wet that when his fingers slipped inside of me, they’d come out dripping. And then I’d close my eyes, reach out, and touch his big, fat, hard cock. I’d feel the strength of him right then and there, and gulp out of fear and anticipation.

“I’m a virgin,” I’d tell him. The air would circulate into my lungs and I’d feel his hand work harder on me. He’d smash the table away and pin me against my chair. He’d wrap his solid hand around my collarbone and press firmly, feeling my heartbeat. He’d put his face to my chest and just listen, as I keep my hand on his cock, stroking slowly.

I open my eyes and am transported back to my room and my comfy bed. My satin sheets lay soaked beneath me. I roll them up against me and groan, placing my right hand between my legs. I close my eyes again and he’s right there, right in front of me. I can feel him touching me.

His hand is so strong, yet gentle. Confidence runs through his veins. He whispers, “Don’t worry. I’ll be tender with you.” His lips press firmly against mine and I nearly die from excitement.

I open my eyes again. My fingers are moving fast and pressing down hard against my clit. My lips are dripping. I need him. No. It’s not the time to go messing with these things. It has to be special. It can’t be some sick, fantasy. I need love, not hard lust.

My mind, however, begs to differ. As soon as I picture him mounting me, something goes off in body. I barely have to touch myself, before I’m shaking against my mattress. I picture his huge cock pushing deep inside. I can feel just how he’d hold my hips, how he’d smack my ass every minute or so, and pull my hair back. I can feel as his balls hit my clit, with every pump he gives me.

“Oh fuck,” I moan. I can feel the volcano of pleasure rising inside my body. It forms and swells, until it needs to release. My eyes shoot open as I lose it. In my fantasy, James cums inside of me without even asking me. It’s too late. He’s already focused all of his pleasure on me. This turns me on more, even though it shouldn’t.

When I’m done and back down on earth, I feel a heavy guilt rise over me like a cloud. Though, instead of basking in it, I shake it away. I’m not a bad person for wanting the experience. It’s just not what I promised myself. I can give my weird brain the fantasy, but that’s it.

Still, I pick up his card and stare at it. I hold it in my fingers, like it’s some artifact or ancient treasure. The corners of the card pinch into my skin. I grab my phone, though its one in the morning. I punch in his number and I bite my lip out of fear as I do so. This is so wrong. I don’t know what I’m doing. It’s just… happening.

I hear the phone ringing. No answer. Ring. No answer. Finally, after a few seconds of doubt, he answers. “Hello?” he says. His voice isn’t groggy. In fact, it sounds like he is wide awake.

“Um, hi,” I whisper. “This is Olivia.”

James

“This is Olivia,” she says to me. Holy shit. She actually called me.

“The freshman?” I ask her, leaning back in my chair.

“Do you want me to be a freshman?” she asks. Jesus, she’s not pulling any punches. If I’m being honest, I wasn’t exactly ready for her call. “Or do you want to know my real age?”

“When you get to be my age, it’s all the same,” I shrug. To an extent, it is.

“I’m a senior,” she declares, as if that changes anything. Great. I was a senior over a decade ago. I’m not sure of the significance anymore.

“How—” Just as I’m about to make the assumption aloud, she interrupts me.

“Cute?” she asks. “Do you like that I’m younger than you?”

I lean back and smile. She’s down to the nitty-gritty. She wants to see what makes me tick. Okay then. I can play that game. “Do you like that I’m older than you?” I ask.

“That’s not answering my question,” she says. There’s a slight giggle at the end of her sentences, like this is risky behavior. It’s almost as if she’s never engaged in something like this before.

“Yes,” I say. “I like it.”

“Me too,” she says.

“So…” I feel my cock start to rise in my pants. I fight the urge to touch it. Shit, she should be here right now. I wish she’d walk in this room, drop to her knees lightly, and open that pretty mouth of hers. Yes, I want to do unspeakable things to her and she knows it.

“What’re we going to do about that?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” she laughs. “It’s a dilemma, isn’t it?”

I reach down and unzip my pants. “My place is free. I’ve got a study we can… talk in.”

“Talk. Right,” she says. “I don’t know about that.”

That’s when I know she’s not going to budge. She’s just going to tease the ever-living shit out of me. I get the thought in my head that I probably should be more careful, that my career is always on the line and I need to remember that. Then I remember my boss. Would he give a shit? He did tell me pussy cures all ailments. That’s right, the Chief Surgeon at my hospital told me pussy is a wonder drug. I wonder if he prescribes it to everyone.

I grab my cock firmly and feel how hard it gets. I haven’t fucked anyone in what seems like ages. Sure, there’s the occasional woman every now and then. There are those mild regrets when I take a woman home from the bar and realize just how disgusting humans can truly get. It all usually hits me in the morning, when I turn over and see them drooling against my pillowcase.

I try to stay away from situations like that. Yet, this woman is different. She’s not some thirsty lady who’s been screaming at the bartender all night. She’s innocent. There’s no doubt about that. Her heart hasn’t been corrupted yet. There are so many possibilities for her. I can hear it in her voice.

“I never said you had to come over,” I tell her. “It was just a suggestion.”

“Well, it’s tempting, but I do have a curfew,” she says.

“You’re supposed to be out partying every night. What’s this curfew all about?” I ask, feeling the disappointment and undeniable yearning kick into my bloodstream.

“Am I? Is that a prescription for good health?” she asks.

“No, actually. The prescription for good health is my—”

“You’re bad,” she laughs, completely cutting me off. “I should go.”

“So soon?” I ask. My cock is in my hand. If she only knew what I could do to her right now. I want to plow her straight into my desk. Fuck, I want to rip her skirt up, tear her panties down to her ankles, and thrust until I cum inside her. I want to show her what being with a real man is like.

“I just called so I could get to know you,” she says. “I wanted to see what makes you tick. Turns out, you’re just another pervert.”

“Excuse me?” I ask, with a smile. I’ve never had a woman talk like that to me before. Well, it’s true. I’m a pervert and I don’t give a damn. I’m a pervert who saves lives. Before I can even add to my shock, she hangs up the phone.

I sigh and press the end button. “Wow,” I whisper. “I need that woman.”

Olivia

It’s hard not to notice the long-lasting smile, stretched across my face. When I walk into Josie’s apartment, she frowns. See, we’re pretty much the opposite of each other. If she’s happy, I’m unhappy. If I’m happy, she’s pissed. It’s just the way it goes.

“What’s making you so chipper?” she asks.

“What’s making you so angry?” I ask back.

“Finals. What else? I’m so over all of this crap. I just want to get a job,” she says.

“And then when you get a job, you’ll be wishing that you could go back to school,” I laugh.

“Right, and pay another forty grand? No thanks. Anyway, what’s happened with you? Did you somehow win the lottery or something?” she asks.

“Sort of.” I smooth my skirt with my hands and sit down on a giant beanbag in the center of her room.

“Sort of? Stop being vague, woman. Spill the dirt!” she exclaims.

“I just had a little convo with the doctor last night,” I say. Her eyes widen. A smile finally forms on her face. “Turns out, he’s a dirty, dirty man.”

“No way.” She says the words slowly. “No fucking way.”

“Yes way,” I whisper.

“Tell me everything now. I want to hear everything. What’s he into? Does he love that you’re a virgin? Is he that depraved?” she asks.

“I didn’t go that far, Josie. I’m not going to tell him straight up that I haven’t ever been with a man,” I say.

“But he’ll love it,” she sings, clapping her hands together.

“You’re being annoying and ruining my story,” I say.

She smiles, closes her eyes, and leans back against the carpet. “Okay, okay. Go ahead. Tell me in your own words. What did the dirty man do to you?”

“He touched me here and here.” I point and laugh. “No, really, we just talked for a bit.”

“Did he cum? Did he moan loudly into your ear and tell you that you’re the one?” she asks.

“We haven’t gotten that far into our relationship, but I’m sure he will soon,” I say. “He definitely likes that I’m younger than him. He told me that much.”

“What a pig. I told you he’d go crazy for you. Didn’t I?” she asks. “You’re so lucky you have me as a friend.”

“Honestly, I doubt I could go through with doing that again. It was pretty out of character of me,” I say.

She sits back up and frowns. She grabs my hands and squeezes. “You have to keep this going. You can’t stop now,” she says.

“My brain is telling me to stop now,” I say.

“But what is your body telling you? Never listen to your brain. It’ll always lead you astray,” she says.

“That’s Josie’s philosophy, huh?” I ask. She lets go of my hands, still frowning.

“It hasn’t betrayed me yet. Look at me. I live a good life. You could be where I am now, completely content,” she says, proudly.

Sure, because I’d love to be in her shoes. In all actuality, she does seem to be going in an okay direction. It’s just that her direction isn’t necessarily what I’m looking for. I’m looking for stability. I’m about to graduate. I want something more out of life, not just one-night stands with strange, horny surgeons.

Can I stop thinking about him, though? Can I stop imagining his strong, steady hands against my hip? Can I stop my heart from beating heavy when I hear his voice in my ear? I’m not sure about that yet. Maybe, for once in my life, I want something different, strange, and completely wrong.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll go out with him. He seems pretty nice, actually,” I say.

“Maybe he’ll be able to get you a job,” she shrugs. “Maybe his dick is exactly what you need.”

“A compromise of favors?” I have to laugh at that. A night with me, in exchange for a high-paying career. No, I’m not about to prostitute myself out for the guy. That’s not why I called him last night. I called him because I’m growing up and he’s, well, pretty hot. Plus, he seems stable enough. It’s not that weird that he wants a little fun, is it?

“Exactly. You scratch his back and he scratches yours,” she says.

“I’m sure all he wants is a little scratching,” I quip back.

“Heavy petting,” she says, pouting her lips and moving toward me. I fall back as she pounces on me, laughing. “Stroking, sucking, pounding, and a little scratching…”

“Gross!” I exclaim, pushing her off of me.

“You’re a prude,” she groans.

I lift my body from the beanbag chair and walk over to her window. The weather is starting to get really nice. I look out and watch as the wind brushes past the trees. The faint smell of citrus hangs in the air. Life is good, generally, when it’s uncomplicated by the heart and body.

“Anyway,” she continues, “I’ve got a date tonight.”

“With who?” I turn around and place my hands against my hips, though I’m not surprised. This is most likely her 60th date this semester.

“Some idiot. Jarod from Women’s Studies,” she says.

“Of course it’s someone from Women’s Studies. Of course. Men are so predictable,” I say.

“Of course they are! That’s what makes them so fun,” she smiles. “Anyway, he’s taking me to a pretty nice restaurant, so I sort of have to go. I’m not about to turn down a hundred-dollar lobster dinner just because I might have to blow him after.”

“You’re too much,” I tell her.

I grab my phone and check the time. Only thirty minutes until my next class. “I should probably get going if I want to make it on time,” I say. “Have fun with the lobster and dick sucking.”

“You always leave me at the worst times. Just skip the damn class today. Live a little with me. Let’s get high and watch scary movies,” she begs.

“I have to go! I’ll get docked on the final if I don’t,” I say.

“Fine,” she pouts. “Well, at least keep me updated on the hot doctor man. I need to know everything.”

“I’ll let you know if we ever talk again. Don’t worry,” I reassure her. I walk to the door and say my goodbyes. She waves solemnly.

I shouldn’t talk to James again. He’s almost twice my age, I think. But I can’t help but acknowledge the undeniable truth that I truly can’t stop thinking about the way my heart pounds when I think of all that could happen. It’s all so wrong, which is exactly why it’s so fucking right.

James

“How is she?” Jenna asks me. Mom hasn’t been able to communicate for a week now. There’s not much we can do at this point, except wait it out. Today isn’t a good day, but she’s made it her prerogative to come in at least once a day.

I take a deep breath and give her the same line I always give. “She’s hanging in there. Time will tell.”

“Maybe it’ll be possible to move her into a better room, if she starts to get better,” she says. That slight tinge of optimism always gets me. There is no getting better, Jenna. This is just how life goes, sometimes.

“Yeah, maybe,” I mutter. “I love you sis. It’s good that you come in so much. I think she can sense it.”

She smiles warmly and closes her eyes. No tears, just understanding. She knows what’s coming, even if she avoids it. “She’s our mom, you know?”

“I know,” I whisper.

She kisses my cheek and quickly hugs me. “Time to go,” she says. I nod. “See you tomorrow.”

The door hangs open as she slips through. I’m left to the silence of the inner corridors of the hospital. I can’t sit still and work on my research essays, however. Instead, I walk out into the hall and move in the opposite direction.

As I get closer to my mom’s room, my chest begins to tighten. My blood turns cold. Fear. It creeps inside my body and begs to stay. I stop myself, putting a solid hand on the wall. I have to close my eyes. Fuck. A panic attack has taken me into its arms, promising to release me right when I feel the collapse.

A nurse walks by me and stops. “James, are you okay?” she asks.

“I’m… fine,” I manage to say.

“Doctor, you don’t look—”

“I’m fine,” I tell her once more.

She understands the cue. She gives her best smile and says, “Very well then.” She walks away.

I regain my sense of self and continue walking toward my mom’s room. This is the hallway of death. That’s not its official name. It’s the name I gave it when I first started working here. When you’re sent here, you’re going to die. There are no miracles in this hallway. There’s just the reality that all things must pass.

At least my mother has family. At least she has people to rely on. Some of the people that are delivered here don’t have anyone. All they can do is sit in that solitary, white room and think about the choices they made. They sit and stare at the wall, or television screen, and every so often they make a strained noise.

Will that be me? If I stay a bachelor forever, will I go out without any witnesses?

I knock on the door three times, even though it’s pointless to. Still, there’s a part of me that knows she is present. Even if her eyes are closed and the morphine is flowing, I know she can hear me. I’m a part of her. I’m her son, dammit.

“Hey Mom.” I smile and enter the room. It’s cold inside. Too damn cold. I told the nurses the other day to keep it at seventy-five degrees. Hastily, I turn the air down and grab a chair. “Sorry it’s so dang cold in here. It’s been a busy week, but I’ll try to come in more often to check up on you.”

Silence. After every second, I wait for her response, but there is nothing. I like to imagine that she’s answering in her head. I take her hand in mine and kiss the top of her skin. Her eyes move, even though they’re closed. That’s how I know that she’s still with us, roaming the halls of memory.

Her mouth twitches and for a second, I think she’s about to say something. She doesn’t. “You want some music in here, Mom?” I ask her. I grab the MP3 player and scroll to her favorite song. Bob Dylan, “Blowing in the Wind.”

When we were much younger, we used to play outside, in the backyard. We’d jump in the leaves, or climb the trees, and mom would turn on that record. It would drive us fucking crazy. I never understood the man’s voice, yet I grew to love it. It became a part of who my mom was.

For the next hour or so, I just sit in the room with her. I continue the hope that it brings some comfort to her. After all, we’re losing someone, but she’s losing everything. She’s the one who has to go through all of this madness. We just have to hold on and endure some mild pain.

So I hold on and hope for the best, though I expect the worst. This year hasn’t been kind to us. Nor has the year before. No, there isn’t any light at the end of the tunnel for me. Not yet, at least. All I can do is stay present.

Olivia

There’s a certain kind of energy that runs through me today. It’s light and elevating, pushing me to act on impulses I’ve never even dreamed of before. I didn’t text or call him yesterday. I felt like I should give it a rest. Today, however, is different. Today, I’m feeling extra daring.

I do something stupid. After my class, I drive over to the hospital. I sit in the parking lot and I just look at the doors. I run my fingers along the edges of my skirt and bite my lip. I love the excitement that comes out of fear. The thing is, doing something wrong can feel so damn good, so why do anything right? That’s Josie’s philosophy and I’ve somehow adopted it into my life. She’d be laughing her cute butt off if she knew what I was doing right now.

My fingers move down, trailing across the soft, creamy skin of my thighs, landing on my freshly washed, cotton panties. They feel dry across my fingers, until I press a little. It becomes apparent that I’m wet and ready for him. Only, this is just a fantasy. I’ll be leaving in a second. I can’t just barge into his office.

But when I see him, I don’t know what to do. He walks right past my car and I mean right past it. His coat grazes my tinted windows, but he doesn’t notice a thing. His face bears the hardened seriousness of a doctor on a mission. Maybe he’s going to perform surgery on a patient, or maybe this is just how he looks when he’s at work.

He must have a lot of stress he needs to release. I bet he doesn’t get one ounce of rest. The poor guy. He needs a woman, as all men do during times of great need. What if I was to go inside his office right now? What would he do? Would he simply ask me to shut the door and turn the lock? Or would he tell me to get out? Both of these options start to excite me and I’m not sure why.

I pick up my phone, put my car in reverse, and call him as I pull out of the hospital parking lot. He answers within two rings. He says, “You again? I wasn’t sure you’d call me back.”

“Well, I did, so you should be feeling very lucky right now,” I say.

“You shouldn’t be talking on the phone while driving,” he says.

“Who says I’m driving?” I ask him. Shit. Maybe he’s on to me.

“I can hear sound of your tires hitting the pavement,” he says.

“Well, I made a small pit stop after class. You’ll never guess where I am,” I say, turning the corner.

“Outside my office?” he asks, the hopeful man.

“I was in the parking lot. You walked right past my car,” I laugh.

“So you’re stalking me now, huh? You’re lucky I’m into that sort of thing,” he says.

“You’re into crazy women, aren’t you?” I ask back.

His voice turns earnest and sincere. “I’m not sure. It’s been a while since I’ve been with anyone. But you’re a bit different than most women. You interest me,” he says.

“Like a pet or something?” I ask.

“You can be my pet if you want to be,” he says. “I can be a pretty good owner. Most of the time.”

The game has begun. I have to pull the car over to the side of a random neighborhood, in order to keep myself from veering off the road. “I’ve never been owned before. It’s going to take a good deal of training to make me obedient.”

“Why don’t you come inside? I’ve got an hour,” he says.

I gulp down hard and take a deep breath. It’s all fun and games until it turns too real. I sit in silence and try to decide whether or not I should do this. I’ve never been with a man. At least, not like this. What he wants to do to me is completely new and slightly strange. Will he be the gentle, strong and caring man I’ve been dreaming of?

“I don’t know if your office is the best place for us to talk,” I say.

“Then come over tonight,” he says. “I’m off at 10.”

“Maybe I will,” I smile. I’m wetter than ever. The leather seat underneath me has grown damp. The feeling of being wanted this bad is exhilarating. The guys my age sometimes exude this type of behavior, but they’re all too young to value the importance of a woman. For some reason, it takes men a great deal of learning to understand just what we mean to them. James understands, or so I think he does.

“I’ll leave my door unlocked,” he says.

“Text me the address,” I blurt out.

“Okay,” he says.

“Maybe I’ll stop by, but don’t get your hopes up,” I add.

“They never are,” he laughs.

I hang up the phone without saying goodbye. My hands are shaking as I throw the thing into my purse. I have to keep breathing slowly in order to regulate myself. Tonight. Should I do it? Is it really worth it? I’ve prided myself on staying celibate for so long because I’ve never wanted to taint how I viewed love, but I can’t help but know that lust is a very real feeling. It’s probably just as real and potent as love is. So what is real and what isn’t?

I put my car back in drive and peel out of there. I head home in a hurry, stacking the pros and cons in my mind. I already know what Josie would say. She would tell me to pounce on him as fast as I can. I keep my thoughts to myself. There’s no need to ask for advice.

When I’m home, I can barely think, let alone open my books to study for my upcoming tests. I sit on my bed and think about him coming into my room, seeing my pink, satin bed sheets, and smiling, knowing that he’s the one to rid me of my innocence.

I somehow manage to fall asleep for hours. When I wake up, it’s nearly pitch-black outside. I check my phone. 10:15 PM. Two missed text messages shine on my screen. One is from Josie. “What’s going on tonight?” she asks. Oh, you know, I’m probably just going to go over to the doctor’s house. The second text is, of course, from James. It’s a simple display of his address.

I text him back. “Just woke up from a nap,” I type. I hit send, although I don’t know where I’m going with this.

It doesn’t take much longer for him to get back to me. “Interesting. I just got in my car. Have any ideas?” he asks.

My body begins to feel like it’s floating, like I have very little control over my motor functions. My cheeks are warm and my back feels heavy. I look at myself in the mirror. I look good, I decide, even though I’m only wearing my underwear. The words come effortlessly from my fingers. “You could come over and keep me company,” I say. My decision: I’m not going to his house, but if he wants to come here, he can. That doesn’t mean we’ll have sex. It simply means we’ll just be… hanging out.

“Send me the address and I’ll be on my way,” he types.

I send him my address and instantly feel the fear and excitement take over my body. “See you soon,” I add, complete with a heart emoji. Is this what being an adult is like? Inviting strange experiences into your life? If so, I guess I’ve finally entered adulthood.

I can’t focus. All I can do is pace around the room. So I invited him over. Is that such a crime? Well, it’s something completely new and impulsive. Though, when I hear my doorknob turn, wave after wave of euphoria enters into me. I hear his boots knock against my wood floors as he comes near my room. “Olivia?” he calls out.

“You can come in,” I tell him.

He pushes the door open and smugly leans against the frame of the door. “Sorry it took so long to get here,” he says. He holds up a bottle of wine and smiles. “But I got you a peace offering.”

I crawl out of the covers, over to the edge of the bed. I sit down and look at the empty space next to me. “A peace offering, huh? How sweet,” I say. He sits down next to me and opens the bottle. “Sorry, all my glasses are kind of dirty.”

“It’s cool. I remember college life,” he says. “We can just drink it out of the bottle.”

“That must have been a lifetime ago,” I say.

He laughs and shakes his head. “Shit. I’m that old to you?” he asks.

“How old do you feel? That’s important, right?” I ask him.

He sits with his legs slightly open and his left thigh comes into contact with mine. With a pounding chest and high temperature of emotions, I quickly look up at him with shock, but he doesn’t even seem to notice. He just looks at me steadily, eyes gazing at my lips. I know exactly what he wants, but he’s taking his sweet time.

“I feel about 24. I’m 35 and I still feel like I’m in my twenties. Watch out, ‘cause it’s going to happen to you in a blink of an eye,” he says.

“Ugh. Don’t say that. At least with men, your thirties are like your prime. For us, it’s almost as if our thirties are the end of the road,” I say.

“You want to stay young and cute forever?” he laughs.

I nod my head emphatically. “Yup. I like being cute,” I say.

“Well, you do it pretty well,” he says. His eyes trail down to my skirt. My hand lays flat in the center, but I can tell he’s going to move it soon. There’s a silent pause that seems to last a lifetime. Then, he looks back into my eyes and says, “I’ve been wanting to fuck you ever since we met.”

His hand moves solidly around my waist. I turn my body to face him, unsure as to how this will play out. This is my first time and it’s with this doctor. Do I tell him my secret?

“Who said we’re going to fuck?” I ask him, all in a whisper.

He doesn’t say a word and I find myself closing my eyes. His hand moves down to my thigh. Goose bumps prick up against my skin. “I did,” he finally says. His lips meet against mine. His tongue slides against mine. He smells so fucking good. His cologne is elegant and refined. He’s like an aged wine. Fuck.

He pulls away, slightly biting my lip. I’m so turned on that I barely know what to do. I lean back against the mattress and eye him carefully. He crawls over me and unbuttons his shirt. “I’m a virgin,” I tell him. It’s quick and painless, like a Band-Aid.

This can’t last forever… can it?

“I’m a lucky man,” he whispers. His fingers moving across my skin, tickling me in the best of ways, send me reeling.

“It will have to be our secret,” I tell him. “No one can know about this.”

“Relax. Let me guide you,” he says, kissing my stomach. His tongue scoops against my hipbone and his lips connect. He continues to move lower as my breathing increases.

“I’m all yours, doctor,” I find myself saying.

“Good.” He smiles.

He has no qualms with taking me. “Does it… does it turn you on that I’ve never slept with someone before?”

His fingers trail across my panties. I shiver with excitement. He unzips his pants and towers above me. When he’s naked, I can’t help but gawk. His body is immaculate. I trace the muscles of his chest and abs, all the way down to his pelvic line. That perfect V stares back at me, and suddenly I’m face to face with perfection in a man. A few inches below, his cock stands upright. It’s… huge.

“Holy shit,” I whisper to myself.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle,” he says. “I promise.”

I reach out and feel it in my hand. It’s so hard I could probably use it to break that wine bottle he bought me. I swallow the saliva in my mouth and look up at him. “You’re so innocent, aren’t you?” he asks, placing his hand around my chin and cheeks. He leans forward and kisses me again.

“I’m not as innocent as you think,” I whisper.

He gives a look of pleasure. “Yeah? Why don’t you prove it to me?”

I let my mouth open. My tongue folds out slowly. His fingers enter my mouth, enter the back of my throat. I wrap my lips around them and slowly move my head back and forth. “Holy shit, baby,” he moans. I start stroking his cock, feeling him get even harder.

His other hand pushes my panties off to the side. His hand touches my pussy, wet and aching. I want to cum so bad. I can’t believe this is happening right now. I can’t believe I allowed him to come over. He slips two fingers inside of me and moves them in and out. I moan lightly and close my eyes. Both hands move back and forth.

“You like having both holes filled, don’t you?” he asks.

I nod and he takes his fingers from me. “I need you, Olivia. I need you now,” he says.

“Then take me,” I say.

There’s no hesitance. He pulls my body toward him. He slides my panties down, past my ankles. He throws them on the floor, as I pull my shirt over my breasts. He kisses each, gently, and holds them in both hands.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers. He guides his cock toward my lips. He pushes his hips forward. I feel the pressure of his head. I hold my breath. This is it. He can barely fit. “You okay?” he asks me.

I nod and open my eyes again. His hips keep moving forward. The pressure gives in to something unimaginable. We both moan loudly as hesitance and fear makes way for pleasure. “Oh, fuck,” I groan.

“You feel that?” he asks.

“Deeper,” I moan.

He’s halfway inside me, but it doesn’t take long for him to push deeper. His cock feels so fucking huge inside of me. My small body against his, his hands gripping around my hips, and my legs pressing against his chest, is all too much for me right now. When he slides back out and then back in, we moan in unison, once more, before picking up speed.

His hands tighten around my waist. “Yes!” I exhale. “Just like that.”

He thrusts harder than before, faster even. I place my hands against his firm chest. I feel every single ripple of muscle between my fingers. I’ll never get this moment back and he knows it. It tempts him further and the sheer fact that he’s this wild over me has driven me close to the edge.

He grabs my thighs and moves them together. Spinning my body to the side, he spoons me from behind. He enters me again, cupping me against him. I instinctively push my ass back against him as he fucks me slower, yet powerful and deep. “I want to make you cum,” he whispers.

“I’m so close,” I admit.

Both hands move around my breasts. He forces himself and thrusts faster now. In and out, opening me up, he’s discovering and conquering me in between every interval of breath. When he kisses the back and sides of my neck, I can’t take it any longer. I feel my thighs start to shake. I feel the goose bumps form again, and that warm, rising feeling on my cheeks. My pussy feels electrified. No, it feels like it’s going to explode like a volcano or earthquake.

When I feel like I’m dancing on pins and needles, I turn my head to kiss him. His tongue enters my mouth and his lips fall firmly against mine. I taste him and feel myself slip out of reality. “Shit,” I manage to say.

“Shh,” he whispers. “Let the doctor have his fun.”

But this is more than just fun. This is… holy shit, this is everything. He thrusts his hips and pinches my nipples, ever so slightly, and I just fucking lose it. I let out the loudest exclamation known to man, and I give way to the world of absolute satisfaction.

Both of his hands fall around my ass, as I’m writhing against his body. He grabs ahold and fucks me like the world is ending tomorrow, like this is the last time he’ll ever fuck a woman. “Good girl,” he whispers in my ear.

I can barely even think at this point. All I know is what I feel, and I feel everything a woman can feel in this position. He does what he wants with me. His masculine energy takes hold and suddenly, I’m laying flat on my stomach, while he takes utter control.

“James,” I whisper. “This is…”

I can’t even finish the sentence. He takes my hands and places them behind my back, near the curves of my ass. He forces both wrists together and holds them steady with one hand. With the other, he runs his fingers through my silky, brown hair. He grabs ahold and whispers, “This is everything I’ve been waiting for.”

“I’m yours,” I tell him. “All yours.”

He fucks me so good and is unabashedly strong and commanding. He controls me with his rigid cock. I manage to look back and see his cock disappear inside of me. I envelop him, lips around his shaft, walls tightening. “You feel so fucking good,” he whispers. I feel him shake lightly as he moves faster and faster.

“I want to cum inside you so fucking bad,” he whispers. The danger of it calls to him, but I’ve been on the pill for years, so there’s no worrying on my end. What he doesn’t know makes him yearn for it even more. “I want to fill you.”

“But it’s so risky,” I say.

“Exactly,” he smiles.

There’s a slight pause of silence as I feel him bottom out inside of me. His whole cock, as big as it is, is stuffing me to the brim. “Okay,” I whisper. “Do it. I want you to cum inside of me.”

He kisses every inch of my body, but never lets go of my wrists and hair. I’m his. I’m his girl. I can feel him swelling and pulsing. His groans grow deep, yet sharp as the intensity quickens. My body smashes against the mattress as our rhythm becomes destructive.

Then I feel it. I feel his cock grow, and I know he’s about to burst. Three solid thrusts is all it takes for a man so close to the edge. One, two, three—“I’m… cumming,” he says. He lets go of my hair and wrists as pleasure takes hold of his body. I feel him shoot his warm load inside of me. His pelvis and legs shake against me.

“Olivia,” he whispers. It’s not a question or statement. It’s a desire wrapped in a name. Olivia, the good virgin girl he’s been waiting for.

He slowly slides out of me, sighing with, what sounds like, the agony of lust. I turn over as he falls to the side of the bed, staring at me with his smug eyes.

“Was I the best you’ve ever had?” he asks, jokingly.

I just laugh at his cockiness. “You were okay,” I say.

“Well then,” he sighs, “I guess we’ll just have to do this again.”

“You’re really sure of yourself, aren’t you?” I ask him.

“What?” he laughs. “You don’t want to see me again?”

“It was an experience to remember,” I say. “Nothing more.”

Still, as we open the bottle of wine he gave me earlier, I have a sense that he’s not leaving anytime soon, nor is he done with me. Am I done with him? Was it just an experience to remember, and nothing more? I look at him and know the answer. He’s bad for me, but I’m not through with him either.

James

Head is pounding. Reach for a glass of water. Can’t find it. Open my eyes. The sun pierces my retina. Close my eyes, but struggle to fall back in sleep.

Noises come from the kitchen as glasses ding against the sink. I hear the light tapping of footsteps coming my way. Olivia pops her half-naked body out of the kitchen and frowns. “Took you long enough,” she says. “You’ve been sleeping all day.”

“What time is it?” I ask, smacking my mouth open and closed. How much did I drink? I should have went home, but the temptation to feel a woman’s body against me, in another bed, was too great for me to handle.

“It’s almost one. Do you work today?” she asks me.

I shake my head. “No, I’ve got the day off, unless someone calls me in.”

“So, let me get this straight,” she says, leaning against the wall and drying off her hands. “You could get called into surgery and then you’d have to operate on someone’s… brain, or something, while being totally hung-over?”

She looks surprised, but this is what I do on a daily basis. This is my life. It’s like making coffee in the morning. “Pretty much. I mean, at this point, I’ve done enough surgeries to feel comfortable enou—”

“You really have done that?” she asks, horrified by my response.

“I’ve done it at least a thousand times,” I boast. “I’ve never lost anyone in surgery.”

“You’re a freak, James Mason. A total freak,” she says.

“I signed up for a job that lets me cut people open with knives. You thought I was going to be normal? I’m far from it, baby,” I say. “Sorry to burst your bubble.”

“I guess you’re right. It would be a great job if you were a serial killer,” she says.

“Maybe I am.” I jump out of bed and run towards her, arms out. She screams and jumps back. I calm my position and laugh, kissing her on the cheek. “No, my job is pretty weird. There’s no doubt about it.”

“I’m just trying to open a simple juice bar. After I get that diploma, you should stop by,” she says.

“A juice bar?” I ask her. “What are your grades like again?”

“Don’t be mean. I’d have the best damn juice in this stupid city. Anyway, I’m lying. I’m not opening a juice bar. To be honest, my GPA is 4.3 and I still have no idea what I’m going to do with my life,” she says. The coffee machine behind her starts sputtering, until hot air prevails against the water. “Oh, coffee!” She jumps up and runs toward the machine.

“One splash of cream, please,” I say.

“Yes, sir,” she replies back.

The great worry of school and what you can tackle after you’re done. I remember that fear. It somehow used to paralyze me. That was before I knew what life was really like. “It doesn’t really matter what you do. But if there’s something that calls to you, you need to just dive into it. You only really lose when you don’t go for something,” I say.

“How motivational-speaker of you. You should speak at the graduation. Really, you’d be good at it,” she says.

She’s full of sass, just ready to destroy any man who comes her way. Was she really a virgin? I have to admit, last night was the one of the hottest experiences I’ve ever had.

“Were you really a virgin or were you just saying that to role play?” I ask her.

I walk into the kitchen as she pours the coffees. The rich aroma fills the room, filling my senses with excitement and the standard pleasure I now need to feel every morning. She turns around and hands me a cup. “Well, did it turn you on, big boy?” she asks.

I look down at her soft shorts. They ride up her thighs like it’s no thing, but I’m already hard again and my boxer-briefs are no concealer. Soft. Everything about her is soft. Not to mention, tight. Brand new. Like a present on Christmas fucking day, I untied that ribbon and threw it behind me.

“What do you think?” I walk forward and push my body close to hers. She looks up at me with those youthful eyes. I just want to keep doing terrible things to her. I want to feel her tight pussy wrap around my cock. I want to hear her cries and her moans. I want to feel her shake against me. Shit. I just want to fuck her into Thursday, over and over again.

“I think you’re a nasty pervert. But who cares what I think? I liked it too,” she says. She leans forward on her tippy-toes and kisses me lightly. She walks back into the bedroom of her apartment and sits on the bed.

“How old are you?” I ask her.

“Seventeen,” she says, with a wink.

“Stop. I’m not that sick. I know that much,” I say.

“I’m twenty-three,” she says. “I took a few years off of school, so it has taken me a bit to get here. And you?”

I cool my coffee off with a few quick breaths, eventually taking a small sip to feel the temperature. “You really want to know?” I ask her. I’m old, dammit. At least, getting there. Thirty-five. Who the hell thought I’d make it?

“Duh. Let me guess. You’re thirty-two,” she says.

“How flattering. But no, I’m thirty-five. Thirty-six this year,” I say.

“Not bad,” she says. I take another sip of coffee and set it down on her bedside table. I move toward her, unable to get my eyes off her body. The way she feels against me is like nothing in this world. My hand can firmly grip any part of her body. Maybe my father is right. Maybe I do need a woman…

“Finish your coffee, weirdo,” she says. I grab the cup again and drink a big gulp.

“So, when are we doing this again?” I ask.

With a raised eyebrow, she says, “Who said we are? Maybe this was just a onetime thing.”

“Or maybe not.” I crawl back onto the bed and place my hands on her thighs. She doesn’t protest, so I move in for the kill. I place my lips against her stomach and kiss her smooth skin.

Finally, as I drag my head downward, she pushes me off her and groans. “Seriously,” she says. “Maybe we shouldn’t.”

“Why the hell not?” The words just fall from my mouth.

“Because, I don’t know. I’m thinking that maybe I shouldn’t go crazy with things just because we had a good time,” she says.

I put my hands in the air and back off. “Fine. I understand. So you just want to call it quits then?” I ask her. She’s confusing as hell. Of course, I’m not about to call it quits on my end. I need this woman again. It’s just a fact of nature.

“I don’t know what I want,” she says.

Her attitude has completely shifted in emotion. I continue to work my magic on her. “Look, I owe you something,” I say.

She glances up at me and laughs lightly. “You owe me something?”

“Yeah, I owe you a good night,” I say. She rolls her eyes when I say it, but I clarify further. “Not like that. I mean, why don’t you go out with me sometime? We can go to this place down the street from me. Best steaks in town.”

“Let me think about it,” she says. “I’ve got your number.”

“That’s alright with me,” I say. “Take your time. I’m easy.”

As soon as I’m done with the coffee, I leave her place. There’s a small kiss goodbye, a few smiles, and then the door closes, and I’m back out in the world again.

What was last night? Did it even really happen? It felt like pure, and utter fantasy. It’s the kind of thing you wish to happen but never does. The funny thing is, I thought she’d be out of my system by now. I didn’t even plan to spend the night. It’s my one rule with women. Always go home after the hot and heavy has died down.

I broke my only rule. But why?

All I know is that I have to get her to see me again. If she’s not game, I’ll go crazy. It’s not like me to get this hung up on someone, purely because of the sex, but my god, Olivia was incredible and it was only her first time. All of the images run through my mind. I want her. I need her. I’m downright obsessed.

Olivia

Classes are crazy right now, but not as crazy as what happened the other night. I’ve kept it all in, until now, trying my best not to talk to Josie about it. My thoughts on James were simply this: he would be a one-time thing and then I’d be on my way.

Now, I’m not so sure. I can’t stop thinking about him. It’s like he’s riding two different lines. On the one hand, he’s completely successful, strong, smart, and confident. Plus, he’s funny sometimes. All of those things are great, but I’m not sure I can trust him. If he’s thirty-five and so great, why in the hell is he single?

Josie just sits there, in her living room, smiling way too big for my taste. “What?” I ask her. “You’re being weird.”

“I’m just so happy, and proud of you. I can’t believe you did it,” she says. “You lost your virginity. How does it feel to be a woman?”

“Stop. I’m twenty-three. I’ve been a woman for some time, you know,” I sigh. “Actually, now that I’ve done it, I feel kind of…”

I try to think of the word, but Josie is one step ahead of me. “Liberated?”

“No. More like, grossed out by the whole thing. Is this really what it’s all about? Sex?” I ask.

“Uh, yeah. Like, seventy-five percent of life is about sex. The rest is like, I don’t know, paying your bills and stuff. Kids. A house,” she says, counting her fingers.

“How utterly depressing,” I sigh.

“You’re going to see him again, right? I mean, does he want to?” she asks. “You had a good time, right?”

“I had a great time when I was in the moment. He kept asking to hang out again, but it was too fun messing with him. Honestly, I don’t know what’s going to happen. Maybe it should stay a one-time thing. Maybe I should move on and finish everything with my degree,” I say.

“Or maybe you should see this through because he totally likes you and is an insane catch,” she says. “Plus, even if it doesn’t work out, it’s a good life experience. Who cares?”

“Right. Who cares about my heart? After all, it’s just my heart.” I roll my eyes.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she says. “I just mean, sometimes, you have to just try something. Even if it’s scary, you never know what could happen. Maybe you two will fall in love.”

“Doubt it. It’s just a thing of lust,” I tell her. “Plain and simple. It was fun, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea for me to call him again.”

“You’re going to call him again. Plain and simple. If you don’t, I’m not sure if we can be friends anymore,” she says. I roll my eyes back hard and pretend I’m dying. “Stop being dramatic. By the way, you’re going to this party tonight with me, aren’t you?”

“Party? You never told me you were going to a party,” I say.

“I texted you saying we’re going to have fun tonight,” she says.

“So that means we’re going out partying?” I ask her.

“Yes!” she exclaims. “Yes it does!”

“Well, I’m sorry to burst that bubble of yours, but I don’t think it’s—”

“A good idea?” She gives a devious smile and a “sexy” wink.

“Exactly,” I laugh, but remain proud of myself for not giving in.

“Nothing is a good idea to you,” she says. “Will you just go? You can leave after an hour of being there.”

“Why do you want me to go so bad?” I ask her. “What are you planning, girl?”

“Jarod from Women’s Studies is going to be there. He invited me. We’re kind of… I don’t know. Never mind. It’s stupid,” she says. She reaches into a drawer and pulls out a handwritten note.

“Tell me,” I say, “what’s on that piece of paper?”

“He loves me,” she says. “Like, is obsessed with me.”

“Gross,” I say.

“If he was weird, it would be. Unfortunately, he’s another perfect specimen, almost like your doctor but without the years that men need in order to grow up,” she says.

“Men never grow up,” I whisper.

“I hear you, sister.” She raises the note high in the air and closes her eyes. “But I have to go. It would be rude of me not to.”

“You really like this guy, don’t you?” I ask her. “Oh, fuck. Josie, are you falling for someone?”

“Don’t test me,” she says, eyes creased. “I’ve never loved anyone, ever.”

“Me neither,” I sigh.

“You’re coming with me to the party,” she says. “Bring the doctor if you’d like, but it might be weird bringing a guy in his thirties to a college party.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll pass,” I say. Underneath the table, however, I text James saying, “What’re you up to tonight?” I hold my breath and wait for his response.

Olivia

The music is blaring against the walls of the house. Outside, we walk up the driveway, asphalt crunching beneath our heels. “What’s up with Michael?” Josie asks me, before opening the door. I shrug. “Come on, I know you texted him.”

“I honestly didn’t,” I say. “I’m here for you tonight. I’ll stay for an hour and then I’m leaving.”

“Fine,” she sighs. I open the door and a billow of fog comes pouring out. The music grows a hundred times louder. College kids are sitting on the couch getting wasted. Some are dancing. Others are standing around, smoking cigarettes with men and women. Everyone is trying to get lucky tonight. Only a few will go home with someone. The rest will head home alone, feeling absolutely defeated.

“Where the hell is he?” Josie asks.

“Maybe he’s outside,” I suggest.

Secretly, I reach into my purse and click open my phone. “Miss me?” It’s James. He has finally responded to me. I click my phone shut and close my purse. He’s annoying me. He can wait.

We walk past the sliding glass doors, past the beer pong losers, and head outside toward the bonfire in the backyard. “There he is,” she says, waving at her guy. His eyes light up and he smiles like he’s containing a secret of sorts. “Isn’t he cute?”

“Sure. He’s cute,” I say.

“Miss me?” he asks her. I nearly burst out laughing when I hear him say that. Is that some pick up line every guy uses with a new girl or something. I look at my phone again and James has texted me a second time. It’s a simple question mark and it’s staring back at me.

“Maybe a little bit,” I quickly type.

“Not really, but I did have fun the other night,” Josie tells Jarod. “Jarod, this is my friend, Olivia.”

“Good to meet you,” he says. His eyes quickly move from me, back to her. “So, about the letter. I’m sorry. I kind of got a little dramatic there.”

“Tell me about it,” Josie says.

“Can we talk in private?” he asks her. His eyes look at me in the peripheral.

“Don’t mind me,” I laugh and walk over to the sidewall of the backyard.

I grab my phone and lean against the cold brick. “Why don’t you come by my place tonight?” he says.

I laugh to myself and shake my head. Not going to happen. If he really wants to see me again, he’s going to have to try harder than that. “To talk?” I text him.

“We could do more than that,” he immediately responds.

“What about the restaurant? You don’t want to wine and dine me anymore?” I ask him.

“It’s too late for that. We can get breakfast in the morning. I’ll wine and dine you anytime, woman,” he says.

“Prove it,” I text him.

Three dots light up on my screen. He’s typing. Almost a minute later, I get a picture response. It’s a picture of a nice table layout. There are two wineglasses, a fork and a knife, and three hundred-dollar bills. “Good enough?” he asks.

“Getting there,” I say. Okay, he’s got me. The offer is tempting. But not tonight.

“Olivia!” Josie calls out to me. She waves me over. “Come hang out with me!”

At this point, Jarod has mingled back to his friends, although I’m not sure why. When I walk up, I tell her, “I can’t stay here much longer, Josie. You know how much I hate these things.”

In the front corner of the backyard is a wild pack of frat boys and they’re all loudly screaming over each other. One of them has a can of unopened Coors in his hand. He gathers the troops and makes a grand announcement. It’s something along the lines of: “I’m going to down this whole can in less than three seconds!”

The whole party cheers in support, as if it’s the biggest feat known to man. The guy sticks a key into the side of the can and opens it. He greedily slurps the beer and four seconds later it’s gone. Everyone cheers and I seem to be the only one who doesn’t appreciate that he didn’t complete his real objective of downing it in less than three seconds.

“Stupid,” I mutter to myself.

“You’re such a buzz kill,” Josie says.

I ignore her and look over at Jarod, who is now talking to some bimbo who is scantily clad and very eager to agree with him on every talking point. “What happened with Jarod?” I ask her.

She rolls her eyes and groans to herself. “Oh, I don’t fucking know. I said one thing and he got all pissed off,” she says. “Men. You know? They’re so easily hurt.”

“Well, it’s not as if he was the one, or something. What did you say?” I ask her.

“I said that he needed to chill out on the letter thing. I think I damaged his poor, little ego,” she says. “Oops. Sorry, bud.”

“Men are weird,” I laugh. “Seriously though, I’m going to go. You want to get out of here or what?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs and looks back at Jarod. “I think I’m going to stay. He’s all angry now and I love that angry sex. You go ahead. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Suit yourself,” I say. We hug and I dip out of the party as fast as I can. As soon as I pull out, the cops arrive to the driveway. Thank God.

At the stop sign, I grab my phone and check it. More question marks from James. “Alright,” I type, “I’ll come over. But this is friendly. No trying to get wild.”

“I’ll be a good boy,” he says.

So I turn the car around and head in the direction the maps tell me to take. This is a dumb idea, but as long as he keeps his hands to himself, things will be okay. Who knows? Maybe he’s a really good guy who just wants to get to know me better? Maybe he’s boyfriend material…

James

“See you soon,” I tell her.

Shit. All I’ve been doing lately is thinking about that woman. When the going gets tough in my own life, I just think about her and things start to feel better. It’s the way her ass looked, propped up in the air for me. It’s the way her eyes shine against the dim lighting of her flat. It’s the way she smiles, so innocent and adventurous.

Fuck me. I’m done for. Olivia will be the death of me. There’s no denying that. I’ll die with her ass in my hands.

The knock on my door is louder than expected, and when she simply opens my door and walks in, I’m caught off guard. “That was fast,” I say, jumping up from the couch and quickly hiding the Snickers wrapper that was left on the table earlier.

She just observes the place and ignores me. “I was at a party not too far away,” she says. She picks up a ceramic art piece and examines it, putting it back down gently. I don’t interject and tell her that it cost me a good two thousand dollars. “I thought, why not go to the weird doctor’s house?”

“So I’m weird now?” I walk up to her and place my hands around her waist. She smiles and nods her head. “How’ve you been sweetheart?” I kiss her and breathe in her scent. My hands run up her sides and I’m almost tempted to rip off every article of clothing. It’s a shame that I’m semi-respectful.

“I’ve been okay,” she says, as my lips pull from hers. “And you?”

“Same. Work. Family shit. You know how it goes,” I say. “Come in. You want the tour?”

“I’ll skip the tour,” she says. “But I will add that this is a lovely home. Like, I look at your place and I just know that I’ll never be able to have something as nice as this. You’re damn lucky, James.”

“Trust me. It’s not worth the effort,” I laugh and lead her into the kitchen and living room area. “When I was in college, I had an insane amount of debt that was collecting. I couldn’t help but think that I’d never be able to afford a real life, but somehow it just happens if you keep at it. Especially in this business, I guess.”

“Yeah, I’m sure my juice bar will give me millions,” she says. She walks past me, into my room, and sits on the bed. “What’re you doing out there?” she asks, waving me in.

“I was getting the wine,” I say.

“Bring the bottle. Might as well hang out in here, right? The living room is kind of stale,” she says. God, I’m starting to get in deep, aren’t I? Already, she’s making it pretty damn clear for me, making sure she knows who’s boss. Well, if I’m the boss in the bedroom, and she’s the boss outside, I’m completely fine with that arrangement.

“Alright,” I tell her. I walk in the bedroom, open the bottle up and hand it her. I sit down next to her as she takes a huge swig and hands it back.

“Lovely,” she says.

“It’s a rare one. At least that’s what they told me. I don’t know shit about wine,” I say.

“If you did, I’d have to stop seeing you. I’m a simple gal, James. You’re a bit posh, but you ride the line enough for me to stay curious.”

“I try to remain a man of the people.” I wink and she laughs, putting her hand against my thigh. Her face turns a light shade of red and she clears her throat.

“A populist, huh? That’s pretty hot,” she says.

“You college girls love that kind of thing,” I say.

“How can we resist?” she asks.

Enough of the small talk. Enough of the beating around the bush. She knows what I want. She understands the lack of complexity of the situation, but she won’t give in. I hand her the bottle of wine again, after taking a sip myself, and she drinks it down like water. I laugh at her comment out of courtesy, but now is not a time for words, nor laughter.

As she pulls back on the end of that wine bottle, I imagine those same thick lips around the head of my hard cock. I can’t fucking help it. These are the things that run in my brain, first and foremost. I reach out and place my palm across her cheek. I feel her smooth skin and she closes her eyes. “Let’s not talk,” I whisper. She nods her pretty little head.

Our lips slowly gravitate toward one another. As they reach, I can feel my cock growing, reaching for her as well. We’re all just reaching for the void of pleasure, a hole that promises us the future and so much more. ‘I love you,’ I could whisper, because in these moments, I feel a strong emotional bond, pouring from my heart. Yet, the doctor in me can’t accept the diagnosis.

Love is oxytocin. It is a mere chemical reaction that happens within our body. It floods our bloodstream and enters the brain. We’re all made to make these types of reactions on a daily basis, but the feeling can’t last forever. If it did, there would be no point to living. Love? I’d rather give in to lust’s willful arms. It feels better in the end.

Her tongue slowly slides against mine. I pull back and bite her lip. She twitches slightly and grows hungrier for me. “That’s right,” I whisper. “You’re my one and only.”

Do I mean that? Hell no. But there’s no denying that I want her to stay here, with me, for as long as this plays out.

“You don’t mean that,” she says, pushing me away.

“Come on,” I sigh. “Don’t be like that.”

She looks down, deciding what to do. I’m a prick. I can’t control myself. I’ve heard it all before. “If I could take back what I just said, I would, but I can’t,” I say.

My cock is aching for her. I need her, dammit. I need her now. She looks up at me and there’s a split second where I think she’s going to slap me, or storm out of the room. Yet, out of nowhere, she gives me a sly smile. “Keep talking like that,” she says. “It turns me on.”

I look down and grin. She’s wearing a white crop-top and high-waisted jeans. She’s fucking hot as hell. Shit, maybe I am in love. No. But there’s something more here and I need to find out what it is. She’s different from the rest of them. I place two fingers in the front of her jeans and pull her forward.

“Come here, babygirl,” I whisper. “Be with me.”

I’m not in the mood for the rough shit. I’m in the mood for some heavy, deep feelings, type of sex. I want us to enjoy each other, from the bottom of our souls. Tonight, I want to get as close to heaven as I possibly can.

“I’m yours,” she whispers and closes her eyes.

She falls down, her back against my mattress. I unbutton her jeans, one by one. Each time it clicks through, a wave of pleasure shakes me. I slowly pull her jeans down, past her ankles. When I see that she’s not wearing any panties, I smile. “I guess you’ve been waiting for this,” I say.

She nods her head. “Just a little bit.”

I kiss her thighs, up to her pelvis. I lick around her sweet pussy, simply to tease her. She wiggles a little bit, as sharp breaths of air burst from her lungs. The other night I made her a woman, but she hasn’t learned all there is to know. Not yet. Tonight is another lesson from the doctor.

I pull her forward, from her hips. My tongue falls flat across her clit and moves in a circular fashion. She tastes so fucking sweet. She tastes new. My cock is throbbing to an almost painful degree. I stroke it while my tongue moves toward her lips. I want to lick every inch of her body. I want to cover her, head to toe.

So I fucking do.

I grab her legs and prop them over my shoulders. I go to town on her, licking every single inch of her pussy. I slide two fingers in and curl them upwards, against her g-spot. She lets out a large sigh of pleasure, but it’s not good enough for me. I want to make her cum, for real.

My whole mouth is around her. I know she’s loving every second of it because she grabs the back of my head and pulls my hair. She pushes my head back onto her and thrusts her hips forward, grinding herself. Now, she’s teaching me how she likes it and I’m all fucking ears.

When her legs begin twitching, I glance up at her face. It has turned red and she bears the look of slight worry. Her eyes are absent, focused on something going on deep within her. I keep myself focused on her. I double the pressure. I tell her how beautiful she looks, how incredible she is. Her eyes grow more distant. Her breathing, more erratic. I place my hand on her stomach and I can feel it begin to tremble, with every muscle beginning to spasm in her body.

I want her to cum. I want to push her over that edge and watch as she hits the bottom. That’s exactly what I want for her. Pure pleasure. Total warmth and goodness. Then, right as she goes running back into my arms, I’ll give her my own pleasure and I won’t stop until I’m finished.

She moans loudly, stuttering her words. She tries to alert me that she’s losing her grip, but words don’t matter right now. I already know her. She’s as predictable as I am.

Tongue pressed against her sweet lips, fingers moving in and out, feeling every corner of her, and lips gently sucking when need be, I’ve spun a web for her and she’s stuck. Finally, she tilts her head back. Her pelvis twitches to an undeniable degree. Her legs dig into my back. It actually kind of scares me when it all goes down, the sheer madness of our lust.

Her moans are louder than anything I’ve ever heard. “James!” She digs her heels even harder. Her nails go into my thick locks of hair and they pull. By the time this is through, I might not be alive, but it’ll be well worth it.

I release myself and stand over her. I watch her move against the mattress, complete with an absent smile. Her thighs close around her hand, twitching mindlessly. I grab them and force them open again. I lean down and kiss each shaking breast, each perfect nipple. I feel down to her stomach with each hand. I grab her hips and pull her closer to me. I slide it in and feel her warmth pull the curtain back over me.

When I’m inside her, I’m lost. I’ve completely forgotten about the self. It’s just her and me, blindly flowing into each other. Family is everything. Bullshit. There’s this too. There’s a wide range of experiences and not one of them is everything.

She opens her eyes and stares at my body. She loves how powerful I am. Control is her fantasy and she wants to lose hers. Her mouth drops open, speechless. I hold her thighs up in the air, pounding away. I control my breathing, but ultimately falter. She feels so fucking good. When I move in as deep as I can go, it feels even better.

I let go of one thigh to grab a fist of her ass. I feel the soft skin, so smooth against my fingers. Youth, it seems to say. I fucking love it. How can any woman compare to Olivia? It’s almost impossible. I grab her thigh again and force myself forward. We kiss, hard, as if we are scrambling to find some air within each other. Heavy breathing with forced heavy petting is what we’ve fallen into, and her hands scramble to touch my hard figure.

I pull back against her lips and smile. “My baby,” I say.

“Yes,” she moans. “Say it again.”

“My baby girl,” I tell her.

Her breathing quickens once more. Her pussy is fucking soaking wet, dripping onto my expensive bed sheets. What do I care? She can ruin this house if she wants to. I’m just here for the ride, trying to hold on as long as I can, but failing.

I pull my cock out and spin her body around. She pushes herself onto her knees and arches her back, almost as if her actions are triggered by a sense of pride for herself. This, of course, turns me on even more. A woman with agency? It’s just something I admire, wholly, but also something I want to take advantage of.

I ride the line. I hold her waist in place. Her perfume travels all across the room. Fruit, flowers, and everything beautiful. I go crazy on her, yet I’m slow and deep about things. I kiss her neck and we mumble directions to one another. “Just like that,” she moans. “Nice and slow. I want to feel you cum.”

She can feel me any day that she wants. I’ll be her master if that’s what it comes down to. I’ll show her things she’s never even dreamed of.

My hips move to an unshakeable rhythm, locking in place with her at the end of each movement. She begins to understand the dance all too well. She moves in tandem, pushing that pussy back, over my shaft. “Fuck,” I find myself whispering. I can’t take it. She feels too fucking good.

I feel that familiar and all too telling sign. It starts below my balls, right inside the core of my very fucking being. It grows like an incoming vibratory spasm. I can feel it swell up inside of me. It’s going to make itself known. I’m going to fucking cum.

It moves upward and expands, until I can’t take it anymore. It’s like sensory fucking overload with this woman. Right when you get to the edge, you start to think you might not be able to come back from this. You scramble to take in all you can. You feel her body and taste her skin. You kiss every single neglected area. Then there’s the lull, where you feel as if time has begun to shift, or stop. Things grow distant, but in your mind, everything is calm.

That’s when you lose yourself to a mind shattering orgasm. Unable to control my muscles, I feel my cock take hold. Whatever it needs, my body will cater to it. I look down at her, so angelic and wonderful, and it just makes the situation even more perfect. I cum way too fucking much. I lose myself over and over again, muscles moving wild. I try to keep myself steady, but of course, I have to fall forward.

She kisses me as I shoot my cum inside of her. Her tongue moves to the back of my mouth, pushing forward once more. Rhythm. It’s all a sexual rhythm between us. I open my eyes and kiss her back. I taste her. She tastes so perfect, just how she looks. Breathtaking.

We fall back onto the pillows and we don’t say a word for a good five or ten minutes. We just lay there, panting like wild animals, kissing until our tongues and lips are sore. The room is silent, but outside, the light rustling of the trees can be heard.

“So, are you staying the night?” I ask her.

She looks at me like I’m crazy, but I know that’s her defense mechanism to give her time to think about what she wants. She can’t deny that holding one another is one of the best feelings in the world. She won’t even try to argue against that point.

“I don’t know…” she sighs. “I have class tomorrow. It might be a good idea if I sleep in my own bed tonight.”

“What time is class?” I ask her.

“One PM. It’s the class you did your little talk to,” she says.

“Barry’s lecture? Shit, if he gives you a bad grade, I’ll set him straight. Come on, just stay here. One is late. We can wake up at ten, get breakfast, and I’ll take you right to the door of the lecture hall,” I say.

“It’s hard to say no to that,” she groans. “Why do you always have good arguments for pursuing bad ideas?”

“I’m a bad idea?” I laugh. She’s probably right.

“Yes!” she exclaims. “You make me think about other things when I should be thinking about finals and my future.”

“The future isn’t as important as they make it out to be,” I mutter. “Just try and have fun. That’s all we can do, really.”

“Easy for you to say. You make a ton of money. You’ve got a solid career. You can do anything you want now. Somehow, somewhere along the way, you forgot how hard it was when you were my age,” she says.

“I haven’t forgotten. I’ve just realized how pointless all that stress was. Anyway, it gets harder. Try operating on your dying mother to remove a tumor you thought was benign, only to realize her cancer has accelerated to the point of no return,” I say. “That is hard. Trust me, most people don’t have to go through shit like that. Your final will be fine.”

I turn my back and close my eyes. Shit, I’ve already said too much.

Olivia

“Shit,” I sigh to myself. “Is all of that really true? Did you really—”

“Yeah,” he interrupts me, and turns back to face me. “My mom is dying. I’m a surgeon. The best there is, or so they always tell me. Yet, even with all of the awards and accolades, I still couldn’t fix my own mother. She doesn’t have much time left. She’s barely even with us now, after the surgery.”

“It’s not your fault. You can’t put that on yourself,” I try and tell him. But what the fuck do I know about pain that severe? I don’t know shit. Both of my parents are happy, together, and thriving in health. I can’t even begin to comprehend the kind of horror he’s had to experience.

“Yeah, well. I could have acted earlier. She told me she hadn’t been feeling that well. I brushed it off. Our genetics were good. That’s what I always told myself. No real family history of anything too big. You know, the occasional kidney stone, or heart attack. That was it,” he says. “And then it happened.”

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. I kiss his chest and try to empathize and show some compassion.

“I don’t want to talk about it. It’s just life, you know?” he says.

That’s when I start to realize just how much is on his plate. He’s right. I have so little to deal with in comparison that it’s hard to even say anything back. All I can do is try and comprehend and offer some support. “I’m here,” I say.

“I don’t need the pity,” he smiles. “Seriously. I’ve already gotten through the hardest of it. Now, we’re just waiting for the inevitable.”

“I’m not staying out of pity,” I tell him, honestly. “I’m staying because I want to.”

I grab the half-empty bottle of wine and take a swig. I hand it to him next. “Let’s finish this before we go to bed,” I say. “I think we both need a good drink or two.”

“Cheers to that,” he says. He closes his eyes and takes a drink.

It doesn’t take long for us to finish the bottle. Both our eyes get tired. Soon enough, he’s asleep, but I’m laying in his bed with eyes open. What’s going to happen between us? Are we just fuck buddies now? Is this how this whole thing works? Or does he want more?

I imagine us dating. I imagine what it would be like to stay here more often, feeling his arms curl around my body. We could have so much. I could figure my life out better with someone like him right now. And maybe, just maybe, I could help him get through his time of pain as well.

Finally, I close my eyes and fall asleep. In my dream, we’re lovers. We’re together and everything is peaceful. I come home from my appointments as a nutritionist and, at night, he comes home and tells me about his day. The stress is absent. We’re just in love.

* * *

I wake up to the sound of grinding metal and the smell of coffee. I walk into the kitchen and smile. “I seem to remember this, but on the opposite side.”

“You’re awake!” he smiles. “I thought I’d treat you to the same experience, only with better coffee.”

“Hey, my coffee is great, buddy,” I reply.

He throws the grounds into an espresso portafilter and tamps it lightly. He turns it into the machine and presses a medium-sized orange button. “Fancy,” I mutter.

He shrugs. “It was a gift from my father. To be honest, I hardly ever use it,” he says.

“Sounds about right,” I say. “You’re such a yuppie.”

“I’m not a yuppie,” he says. Though, judging by the way he’s weighing and eying that shot, I’d definitely call him a spoiled little yuppie. I laugh and shake my head. “Okay, maybe my lifestyle is a little different from how it was in college.”

“I’m sorry,” I laugh. “You’re fine. It’s kind of my life goal to grow up to be a yuppie, so you’re all good in my book. You’re living the dream.”

He hands me a shot of espresso and winks. “Cheers,” he says. I look him in the eye and clink my small glass.

“Cheers,” I reply.

I check my phone and see the time. “Shit,” he says. “I woke you up a little hate, haven’t I?”

“A bit,” I mutter, sadly. “It’s almost 11:45.”

“I know, but I looked at you sleeping so peacefully and I couldn’t just wake you up. You looked so happy,” he says.

We both finish our espressos and I almost feel like I’m in a foreign country with a forbidden love. Only, I’m just a few miles away from my house and school is calling me back to reality. “Next time we hang out, we’re getting something really nice,” I say. “Like oysters and caviar.”

He laughs, but I can tell he’s down for anything. “Oysters and caviar, huh. Is that it?” he asks.

“Of course not,” I smile. “Oysters, caviar, some lobster tail… And then after, you can take me to your favorite posh bar and you can buy me martinis.”

“You’re such a fancy girl,” he sighs. “I thought you were more down to earth.”

He places one hand on my hip and pulls me into his body. With the other hand, he caresses the back of my head. “I was a down to earth girl, but then I met you,” I tease. He kisses me. “You corrupted me.”

“It’s what I do,” he whispers and kisses me again.

I fall back into him and hug him as he rubs my back. My cheek presses against his naked chest. It feels so domestic. I never liked that feeling before. Right now, however, it somehow feels really good. I open my eyes to the knowing that it’s about to all end. This is just our little fantasy that we’ve started to create. Every fantasy has to end at some point.

“Let’s go,” I tell him.

“Okay,” he claps his hands. “Let’s go.” He grabs my ass before running to grab his clothes. I slip my jeans back on and put on my tennis shoes. On the outside, I’m fine. On the inside, I’m sort of saddened that I have to leave. The problem is that we’ve started to share things that are deeper than the surface. I want to hear more about his life and, for some odd reason, I want to share more of his pain. I know that deep down, he’s hiding his real self. The struggle is always a part of the man. You can’t just run away from that.

We leave the building and he tries to stay chipper and upbeat, but there’s no point. He’s going to work and I’m going to school. “What’re you up to tonight?” he asks, as he pulls up to the University parking lot.

“I don’t know,” I shrug. “I kind of have to study for finals.”

“Again?” he asks.

“This time it’s dire. Tomorrow is my first test. Women’s Studies,” I tell him.

“Sounds easy enough,” he says.

“Then you don’t know how complicated women are,” I laugh and step out of the car, swinging my bag over my shoulders. “I’ll call you in a week or something.”

“A week?” he asks. “You trying to kill me?”

“You’ll survive!” I shout out to him. I shut the door, wave, and when I’m out of the parking lot, I hike up my jeans high enough to tease him into oblivion.

Around the corner walks Josie and she nearly tackles me to the ground. I look back over at James, who has already begun to leave the parking lot. Josie’s eyes follow mine. “Oh, man,” she mutters. “Another night with the hot doc?”

“Yeah. It was nice.” I instantly turn red, so I try to hide my cheeks by looking away.

“When’s the wedding?” she asks.

“Shut up,” I tell her. “No wedding. In fact, I’m not going to see him at all this week.”

“What the fuck? Why?” she asks.

“Finals. I don’t think I can pay attention to things if I keep hanging out with him,” I say.

We continue walking through the outdoor hallway on the way to the lecture hall, near the center of the old courtyard. Josie says, “Who cares about paying attention to things? We’re going to graduate. There’s no way we won’t. That’s the main goal, right?”

“Unfortunately, my parents care about grades and I’m a good girl.” I smile deviously.

“That’s right, bitch,” she says, slapping my butt. “You’re a good girl, alright.” She winks and makes a gesture that seems to suggest that a cock is in her mouth.

“You’re seriously so annoying,” I tell her.

“Come on,” she laughs, “you have to tell me more. Do you like him?”

“We’ve got five minutes before we have to be in there,” I tell her.

“Exactly. That’s just enough time. Come on, girl. I want to know more about your life. I thought we were best friends. Don’t keep me on the outside,” she begs.

“You are my best friend. I’m just not used to all of this,” I tell her.

It all hits me, right then and there. It takes the breath straight from my lungs. Cut to me sitting in the lecture hall, holding my textbook against my breasts, eyes closed. “Are you okay?” Josie asks me.

I nod and smile, but I don’t know if I’m okay. I have given away the one thing that was precious to me. I can never get that back. Before this all happened, I was special. I felt like I was the one sheep in the crowd, walking against the current. Now, I’m just like everyone else.

Everything used to be so different. The doctor is all I worry about now and I don’t even think he’s the one. How can you know, really? And that’s really the dilemma I’ve always faced with this type of choice. You never really know who will let you down. You definitely can’t predict the future. Can anyone really blame me for holding onto this for so long?

A vibration against my ass sends me squirming. Josie glances over and snickers. “I miss you, baby.” James’s text shines brightly against the darkened room.

I close my phone and set it on my lap. The professor continues her lecture. “The doctors called it hysteria. The women who couldn’t be controlled by men were deemed insane and unfit to live in society. They removed various sexual organs in order to tame us. Nothing was sacred. They sought to tear us apart for their own personal satisfaction.”

Josie leans over and whispers, “She goes a little overboard, doesn’t she?”

“It’s true, Josie. Men have been doing this since the dawn of time. They use us,” I say. I can feel the anger and regret start to creep up inside of me. Resentment wasn’t an emotion I thought I would feel about this whole thing. I thought it was time to grow up. The truth is that I have no fucking clue where I’m supposed to stand now. I’ve got one foot in the air and one foot in the mud.

“Okay,” Josie rolls her eyes. “Chill out. You’re not being yourself.”

The professor continues. “Women have slowly gained agency over our lives. Women have gotten the right to vote, the right to a fair wage, and the rights to work in general. Still, to this day, we have to continue to fight back against the patriarchal system we find ourselves in. If we don’t voice our opinions, we may wake up someday, completely stripped of our rights.”

I don’t know what it is that hits me, but it completely takes me over. “Don’t tell me what I’m being and what I’m not being!” I shout at Josie. Meanwhile, the professor has stopped talking and the whole class has turned towards me. I grab my things and begin the long walk of shame, toward the exit in the back of the room.

“As you can see,” the professor chuckles, “this subject matter can hit some of you pretty hard.”

The door shuts behind me and I find myself collapsing against a nearby concrete pillar. I start bawling my eyes out. I can’t contain any of it. It just comes out. “Fuck him,” I think to myself, but every time I picture his deep, honest eyes and his incredible body, I can’t help but blame only one person: myself. “Fuck me,” are the next words that come from my mouth.

All in all, it was my decision. I made the choice to give my virginity to him. Was it a bad move? Shit. I don’t even know at this point. That’s why I’m freaking out. What’s worse is that I think I might actually really like the guy. I mean, he’s sweet. He’s kind. He’s funny and motivated, and so damn successful. What is there not to like?

Thinking about someone every single day is exhausting. It takes your whole body over. It leaves you feeling drained at times. Other times, it just makes you feel so damn happy that you could almost start singing. Liking someone can wreck your whole foundation. That’s why I’m so pissed. I like him, dammit.

But even when you face the truth, you sometimes have to walk in the other direction. I wipe the tears from my face and pick myself up from the floor. I dust my ass off and sigh heavily, walking to the parking lot. I grab my phone and type out the words: “We shouldn’t see each other anymore.” I leave it at that.

James

What the fuck? I read the words on the screen and nearly chuck he phone against the wall. “Fuck!” I scream and fall against my leather chair. Neil, the chief, pops his head in when he hears the commotion.

“Everything alright, man?” he asks me.

“Fine. Dandy,” I mutter, biting my tongue.

He walks inside the room and leans against my bookshelf. I look at him, annoyed that he won’t leave and let me have my anger to myself. “Sure looks like you’re pissed off,” he says. “What’s going on with you? The whole family thing?”

“Nah, man,” I reply. I don’t elaborate further.

“Come on. I’m your boss. You have to talk to me, you know,” he says.

“No I don’t,” I laugh. “You’re not going to fire your best surgeon. Don’t give me that line of bullshit, Neil.”

“Fine, but I’m your friend, man. It’s good to vent every now and then. Tell me what’s up and maybe I can give you some old, sage advice,” he says.

I keep my eyes steady, but I feel myself start to cave. “It’s just some woman,” I say. “She’s messing with my head.”

“Hell yes,” he says, rubbing his hands together. “That’s what I’m talking about, man. So you’re getting back in the game, huh?”

“Nah. Don’t get too excited,” I mutter.

“Come on. I’m just happy for you. You used to spend all your free time in this office,” he says.

“Our patients’ lives are more important than anything outside of these walls,” I remind him.

“Don’t get me wrong, now. I want our patients to have the best care possible. But it’s a fact that a man needs a break every now and then,” he says. “Shit. A man needs a woman. It’s a fact. It’s been that way since the dawn of time.”

“Yeah, well. Women don’t need men. We’ve just tricked them into thinking they do.” I’m obviously feeling a little cynical. I’m supposed to be the best damn surgeon in this town. I have to admit it. My ego is a bit fucking bruised.

“Who is this game playing woman? She’s got your head spinning. Man, I love that feeling,” he says.

“Yeah, you like it because you’re a deranged masochist,” I tell him.

“No way,” he laughs. “Alright, maybe a little.”

“Shit,” I sigh.

“It’s the chase that always gets you. I love it. It’s like pain and pleasure. You never know what you’re going to get. Each new step is a chance to ruin the whole damn thing, or make it perfect,” he says. “How can you not miss that feeling?”

“It’s not like that with this girl. It’s different. She is different,” I say. I reach into my drawer and pull out a bottle of scotch. I grab two cups and pour. Neil grabs the glass and takes a sip. I do the same.

“How so?” he asks.

“She’s a virgin,” I whisper.

His eyes widen and a short smile forms on his face. “No fucking way,” he says. “Seriously?”

I nod my head slowly. “Seriously. And she’s hot as hell. She’s fucking smokin’,” I say.

“You’re out of your mind,” he laughs. “You can’t get with a virgin. How old is she?”

I lean back in my chair and feel the slow burn of the scotch hit my esophagus. I laugh when I think about the situation that I’m in. I shouldn’t be worrying about this woman. I should be worrying about the lives of my patients. I can find someone my age eventually. Problem is, I can’t wait too long to find one. My father is right. There’s something about family. I’m thirty-five. She’s twenty-three. She’s at that perfect age to start a family with someone.

“She’s twenty-three,” I tell him.

“You’re insane,” he says, jumping back. “Twenty-three?! She’s young.”

I don’t have any qualms with it. “She’s an adult and she makes her own choices,” I say.

“Yeah, but she’s a virgin? Shit, man. It just sounds like a recipe for disaster. Then again, your whole life is pretty much that, so maybe she’s perfect for you,” he laughs.

“Well,” I groan, “she’s not a virgin anymore. We sort of got past that hurtle.”

Neil starts laughing loudly and I motion for him to settle down a bit. “Sorry, it’s just a weird situation. You’re a grown man and you’re worrying about this… girl.”

“You don’t understand. She’s not just some girl. She’s actually pretty damn interesting,” I say. But I don’t know. Am I being stupid about this whole thing?

“And really hot. I got it,” he says.

“Yes, like really fucking hot,” I laugh. I think about her body. It’s perfect. It’s jaw dropping. “And her eyes… god damn, her eyes. When you look into them, you can’t look away.”

“Well, it sounds like you dove headfirst into this whole thing,” he says.

I nod and sit up, against the desk. I roll my palms over my face and breathe against my skin. “She doesn’t want to see me again.” I say the words out loud, but doing so only makes me realize how dumb this all is. I don’t need her. I don’t need anyone. I just need myself.

“She’s probably in love with you. You took her virginity, you sick man,” he says. “What you should do is stay away. Stay very far away from all of this. It’s likely to all blow up in your face.”

“Yeah.” I glance at the half-empty glass in my hand and down the rest of the scotch. “Well, you’re right. I think I’m just going to let it go. I don’t need to press any further.”

“Exactly,” he says. He finishes his glass as well, sighs loudly, and taps his fingers against the bookshelf, alerting me that he’s about to leave. “Well, I got work to do. You’re done for the day, right?”

“Right,” I say. “I’m just going to check in on Mom before I head out.”

“Alright. Stay up, man,” he says. I nod at him as he leaves the room.

I put away the scotch and heave my heavy body out of the leather chair. I turn off the lights in the room and exit, feeling my boots drag against the shiny hospital floor. I walk toward mom’s room. It’s the daily ritual I have to take.

Every single time I walk these lonely halls, I wonder to myself, “Will this be it? Will I even get a last word from her?” I know it’s selfish of me to even ask that, but it’s something I would do anything for.

When I walk into the room, I see my father standing solemnly in the corner. He’s talking to her, but of course she’s not moving, except for her eyelids. He looks over at me, but continues talking. I wait for him to finish by the door.

“Son.” He puts his arms out for me. I hug him and pat him on the back.

“Hey dad,” I say. “How is she?”

“The same,” he says. “You know she’s not getting any better. We can stop with the formalities.”

“You never know,” I reply. But I know all too well what will happen.

“I ran into Neil outside the room,” he says. “He says you’re seeing someone. Is this true?”

“Dad, is this really the time to talk about this?” I ask him. I look at my mother, lying on the bed, with tubes running all around her.

“It’s the perfect time to talk about this. You need a wife,” he tells me.

I look around the room, as if someone might be nearby, listening to this lunacy coming from my father. “I don’t need a wife, dad. Besides, she doesn’t want to see me again. Women these days don’t necessarily want to settle down right away. It’s not the 1950’s.”

“No it isn’t. That’s for damn sure.” His voice growls when he says it. “But if you want the house, you’ll do me this one favor.”

“I wish you could see how messed up this is,” I laugh. “You’re bribing your own son.”

“It’s not a bribe. It’s an offer and it makes sense. All I’m asking you to do is see this through. She’s probably a nice girl,” he says. I open my mouth to tell him, once again, that it’s just not going to work out, but he shuts me up before I can even speak. “I know, I know. She doesn’t want to see you again. That’s a bunch of baloney and you know it. She’s scared. You’re powerful, successful, and you have a good head on your shoulders. She’s afraid you might leave her in the dust if she gets too involved.”

“Still. Maybe it’s just too much to deal with right now. I’d rather just keep to myself,” I tell him.

“Wednesday we’re having family dinner. Me, you, your sis. You’re inviting this girl over and we’re going to have a nice time,” he says. It’s not a question. It’s a command.

“I’ll ask,” I groan. “But I’m not making any promises. She’s got finals.”

“A college girl?” he asks, raising an eye.

I ignore his question and walk out of the room. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I tell him.

Olivia

It takes a few hours, but I eventually calm myself down. When he doesn’t text me back, I send a question mark to him. He reads it, but doesn’t reply. “That bastard,” I whisper to myself, as I stretch out on my bed. After a couple more hours pass, I finally get a reply. It says, “Dinner this week with my family. You’re invited if you want to go.”

I quickly reply, “Did you not read what I wrote earlier? I said we shouldn’t see each other anymore.” What the heck?

“I read it,” he types, “but I’m choosing to ignore it. I have too much fun with you.”

Maybe I should be happy with what he’s telling me, but I’m not. I don’t want to just be someone’s plaything. I want to be adored. I want to be respected. I am not just some hole for him to use.

“So you have fun with me. So what? You’ll find someone else to have fun with,” I text back.

Immediately, the phone buzzes against my lap. I groan and slam my back against the mattress again. Why are men so insufferable sometimes? They just do not give up. “Why won’t you let me get to know you better?” he asks me.

I sit, dumbfounded, holding my phone. I squeeze my thumbs against the screen, trying to think of an answer besides the truth. I’m scared. But I can’t let him know that. I need to come off as stronger than I am. The major problem is that he did take my virginity and now I feel so damn foolish for liking him so much.

“Because it’s wrong,” I type. “I’m way younger than you. I shouldn’t be doing this.”

He knows me better than to believe what I’m saying. Even as I hit the send button, I feel the truth sink in. I like that he’s older than me. Of course I do. The moment I saw him, I knew I wanted him. He knows this better than I do. “Bullshit,” he sends. “You love it and I know it.”

“What makes you say that?” I text him.

“I made you cum harder than you’ve ever came before. I know you can’t live without me and I can’t wait to see you again,” he says. “Take my words and view them whichever way you want to. I’ve said my piece. I want to see you again. I want to feel you again. I want to take you again.”

My body grows warm. I set the phone down and breathe deeply. I gulp down, as my heart pounds against my chest. “Fuck,” I mutter. Why am I playing these games? Why don’t I just accept the reality that we want each other? Maybe it really is that simple.

Then the phone starts to ring, causing me to jump out of my bed and pace around the room. Of course I have to answer the damn thing. I do, but I don’t issue the greeting he wants. “This is easier,” he says. “Plus, I want to hear your voice. It’s been too long.”

“You’re too cocky,” I tell him. “You think you can get whatever you want. Well, you can’t. Life doesn’t work that way and I want to just be left alone.”

“Stop it, Olivia. I’m not asking that much of you,” he says.

“Yes, you are,” I reply.

“I’m asking you to be honest. Is that so hard?” he asks.

I look out of my window and watch as the cars pass by the darkened streets. I think about my future and what’s in store. Growing up and leaving college always seemed like the best thing in the world. Now, I’m not so sure

“Sometimes giving into every whim and desire isn’t the best choice you can make. I think we’ve had our fun,” I tell him.

“One more time,” he says. “Just one more time.”

“One time is never enough,” I tell him. “I know how this goes.”

But I’m already caving for him. I’m already feeling his warm hands grip around my body. “When is the last time you’ve been to the doctor?” he asks me.

“That’s besides the point, isn’t it?” I ask him.

“Not really, actually.” I can picture him smiling, leaning against the doorway to my kitchen. I can see his swagger as he walks toward me, as he hungers for me. I hunger for him. I fall to my knees and look up at him, so tall and strong. I yearn for that interaction with him. I just don’t want to be left in the dust like so many other women.

“I haven’t been in at least three years,” I admit.

“Time for a checkup,” he laughs.

“Don’t get gross,” I warn him.

I can hear his boots click against the ground. What is he wearing right now? I wonder. Is he wearing a nice Italian suit, complete with gold cufflinks? Or is he wearing his blue surgeon outfit? Or maybe he’s wearing nothing at all.

“You love it,” he says. “Admit it. You’re more disgusting than I am. It just takes a little prodding.”

“You like to prod me, don’t you?” I ask him. My body loosens up as a fucked-up smile forms across my face. I’m a bad girl. I’m the worst there is. I can hear his heavy breathing, mouth pressed against the cold receiver, lips touching the holes of communication. I can imagine those same lips pressed against mine, as I give a slight protest. “You like that I’m innocent. You want to tame me. No, you want to taint me.”

“You’ve already been tainted.” The words come out harsh and brittle. They hit my eardrum and dissolve away, almost as if they never existed. But they do, and he’s right as ever.

“Maybe,” I whisper. “Maybe not.”

“Are you touching yourself right now?” he asks me. The static language funneled into my phone makes me wonder if our words don’t exist forever in those satellites up above. Maybe our desires hold true in the stratosphere, always preserved in milky-white space debris. I look down and my fingernails are dragging across my inner thigh. The tips of my fingers tickle my lips. I’m wet. Always wet for Dr. James Mason.

“No,” I tell him.

“Liar,” he replies back, almost instantaneously. “I know who you are, deep down.”

“Deep down?” I smile and move my hand over my clit. I press down, firm, until I feel the pressure increase. I let go and repeat the process. There’s something about keeping things at bay, with a slight increase, only to know that in just a few minutes, you could explode, taking down everything around you.

“Deep down. Past that short, plaid skirt of yours. Past your perfectly clean panties. I know what you want. You want me. You want to be owned,” he says.

“And you want to own me. Don’t you?” I ask him.

“You’re damn right I do,” he says. “I want to own every bit of you. From those gorgeous lips of yours down to your tight pussy.”

“But there’s something you never anticipated,” I say. My fingers press firmly against my clit again. I move them around and around, until I feel the pleasure thicken. Then, I release again, only to be forced to take in a deep breath.

“Oh yeah? And what is that?” he asks.

“I know my worth. I know most men would kill to have a night with me,” I tell him. “So you’re going to need to get some leverage.”

There’s a strange silence. He takes it all in and then chuckles to himself. “You’re right. This poses a dilemma for me,” he says. “But I’m not as bad a guy as you think I am. At least, I won’t be that bad to you. Tomorrow. I’ll take you out somewhere nice, like I promised. And when we’re full, I’ll take you home so you can study.”

“Fine,” I say. “No sex. This is just a nice dinner date. You really think you’ll be able to handle yourself?”

“I’ll have to try,” he says.

“This is your final,” I laugh.

“If I fail the test, you can stop talking to me. But I’m not going to fail,” he says.

“You really think your willpower is strong enough?” I ask him.

“I do,” he whispers.

“Well then. I’ll see you tomorrow. What time?” I ask him.

“7 PM. I’ll come pick you up,” he says.

“Okay, doctor. See you then,” I say. “Bye bye.”

I hang up the phone and lay across my bed, sexually frustrated and exhausted. I can’t help but deny that I think about him all of the damn time, even if it is against my best interest. And I can’t help but feel excited for our little date tomorrow. I still don’t know what I’m going to do in the long run, but for now, I’m stuck in the game. Of course, I’m loving every second of it.

James

I close my eyes and the first thing I see is her ass in my face, round and smooth, hanging in the air, just like a ripe fruit hanging from a tree. As soon as I reach out to take a bite, it pulls away. Female laughter can be heard in all corners of my room.

I open my eyes and I’m awake. I look down at my cock and I’m so fucking hard I could cum bullets. All I can think about, dream about, is Olivia. It’s been days since I’ve had her and it’s starting to get to me. I thought I could hold strong, but this is the worst it’s ever been. I can just picture her, sleeping sound in my bed. I can smell her, taste her, feel her youthful skin. It’s too much for a grown man to handle.

When I’m at work, I can barely concentrate. Even with the scalpel in my hand, I’m trying not to think of her. I make my incisions. I look back up and Neil is staring at me like I’ve lost my mind. “What’s wrong with you?” I ask him.

“What’s wrong with me?” he asks me. “Scott, take over for a minute.”

The other surgeon grabs my tools and starts to work. Neil and I walk out of the room silently, but I’m pissed. In all my years as a surgeon, I’ve never had anyone pull me outside, let alone Neil. He’s frustrated, but I was doing fine. “What the fuck?” he asks me, as if I’m a mind reader. “You’re sweating bullets in there, man.”

“I’m fine, Neil. It’s hot. So fucking what? I was following the procedure to the full degree. What else do you want from me?” I ask.

“Nah, man. You were shaking in there. Trust me. You barely made the correct first incision. I saw you hesitate. Everyone did,” he says.

I shake my head and throw my gloves off into the waste bin. I take my mask off and throw it against the wall. I run the scalding hot water onto my hands and soap the shit out of them. I do all these things so I don’t slam my fist into Neil’s face. I’m the best there is in this business. That’s a fucking fact. I’ve got the awards plastered on my wall to prove it.

“Chill out,” he says. “It’s just one surgery.”

“You need to chill out,” I tell him. “You’re embarrassing me in front of my subordinates. Do you know how these med-school newbies look at us? They think we’re Gods, man. They look up to us. We’re supposed to be their teachers. So when we’re accused of failing or messing up a procedure, they’re going to go back to their rooms and tell the whole fucking staff about it. You better believe I’m pissed. I’m fucking livid. I’m fucking—” I have to stop myself and take at least ten deep breaths before I can calm the hell down.

“Jesus,” Neil sighs. “You were shaking in there. What was I supposed to do? Let you slip?”

“I wasn’t going to slip,” I say. I look through the window and watch Scott work his newbie magic. He’s doing good in there. That’s something, right?

“I wasn’t going to take that chance,” he says. “Look, how many years have we worked together? Remember when you first came here?”

I laugh, feeling a bit ashamed of myself. I’m starting to cool down a bit and I don’t know how to handle it. “Yeah. I remember it all too well,” I say.

“I took a lot of risks with you.” He throws his arm around my shoulders and sighs. “You were unorthodox, set in your ways. I had to teach you how to follow the rules. Remember?”

“I never followed the rules though. I was always set on my own path,” I tell him.

“Yeah, but every time you veered too far south, I had to teach the basics. I’m not taking any of the credit away from your successes. All of that was because of you. But you know that without anyone acting as your center, you’d be out on a reckless path,” he says.

“Shit,” I whisper to myself. I place my wet palms across my face. I breathe into the hard callouses. I see her face. Olivia. Fuck, I hate admitting that I’m wrong. I especially hate telling someone else that they’re right. Sometimes you just have to admit the truth. It doesn’t matter how it might make you feel. The truth is the damn truth.

“It’s fine, brother,” Neil whispers.

“No, it’s not. You’re right. There’s something inside of me that gets off center every now and then. I push so damn hard that I go a bit crazy. I need to chill out, maybe,” I say.

“Just take a week off. Stop working so damn hard. You’re going to give yourself a stroke,” he says.

“Hey, at least I’d be in good hands,” I mutter.

“Seriously, man. Stop worrying about that girl. Stop worrying about work. Just sit at home, drink a little, smoke a little if you have to. Do something to take your mind off of the real world. You’re going through a lot already with your family. Do yourself a favor for once,” he says.

I nod and run my hands through my hair. “You’re right. I can’t argue about it anymore. Scott can take care of this. I’ve taught him well enough and he needs to prove himself on his own anyway,” I say. “I guess I’ll just head home and stare at the television screen.”

“Finally,” he says. “You’ve come to your senses.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter back. I wave and walk out, into the hallway, grab my briefcase in my office, and head home.

I’ll just head home and stare at the television screen. That sounds nice, to do nothing for once. Of course, when I step one foot into my house and hear the emptiness echo off of the walls, I can’t even bear to sit down. It’s not like me to do nothing. I always have to have my eye on some kind of gain.

I call Olivia. It’s the only thing I can think of to do. When she answers, I’m actually surprised. “Hey,” she says. “It’s a little early for that date, isn’t it?”

I check my clock on the wall and it says 4:30 PM. “Yeah, I guess it is,” I say. “But I’m off early for the day and I’m bored out of my mind.”

“Why don’t you watch a movie or turn on the TV, or something?” she says.

“Why does everyone tell me to do that? It’s not like the TV screen has healing powers or something,” I laugh.

“It’s just early! I wasn’t ready,” she says. “I’m wearing my pajamas and I haven’t showered in a day. It takes time for a girl to get ready.”

“You think I give a damn about what you’re wearing?” I tell her. “Look, I’m coming over, so you better get ready.”

“You’re the worst,” she says. I’m fully surprised when she doesn’t protest, however. She’s got this chipper tone to her voice that tells me I can get away with just about anything.

“See you soon,” I say.

She scoffs but whispers, “Fine.” I hang up the phone and throw on one of my nicest suits. I spray my cologne, the special bottle I save for special occasions. Today was pure shit, but somehow, I feel like a million bucks. Of course, that doesn’t last as long as I thought it might.

When I turn around, I see him staring back at me. On the dresser, across from my bed is a family portrait, shot at least fifteen years ago. It’s everyone. My mom, my sister, me, and my father. We’re all… so damn happy, which was kind of a rare thing to capture. Family is one of those weird things. You never quite know how to navigate it, but you also know that you want to keep it around.

My father would staunchly put his foot down, declaring that the bond is everything. I’d disagree until the cows came home. Yet, as the days go by and begin to feel much shorter, I start to understand his ramblings. This doesn’t last forever. Hell no. It’s a blink of an eye, a snap of a finger. And then the curtain is closed and it’s gone forever.

I walk over to that picture and look at my mother. She’s smiling so damn big. It’s an honest smile, not one of those forced mannequin looks they usually make you do at the photo places. She looks beautiful. The look on my father’s face is pure pride. He’s proud of the family he ended up with. He wouldn’t have asked for anything more or less.

What am I doing on this earth? Saving lives, sure. That’s the go-to line for any doctor. “I’m saving one life at a time. Get off my back.” It’s the kind of line that can get you out of a traffic ticket. Eventually, that all wears thin. What am I really doing here? It better not be pouring my soul into work. Work is just a means to an end. It’s security. Sure, I save lives, but I’m not a magician. I’m a human being like everyone else.

I’m not doing shit with my life. Well, not really. When you look into the past, you get an abstract idea of the future. You see what used to be important. Childhood. Youth. Family. These things will be forever ingrained inside of me. I can take one of two paths. I can either let it all go, like dust, or start something meaningful.

My mind circles back to Oliva. Beautiful Olivia. She’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted, the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on. Not to mention, she’s so completely untainted that I’d be a fool to let go. So what am I waiting for? Trying to continue this bachelor lifestyle will be the end of me. Soon enough, I’ll be in my forties. I can’t continue down the same road forever.

I take a deep breath and walk out to my living room. I sit on my couch and try to collect myself. My palms start to sweat. My knees are shaking against the fabric. It’s obvious what I need. My father has laid it all out for me. I need something good in my life. I need something beautiful, something stable and nice. I don’t need myself anymore. It’s just so fucking obvious…

I need a wife. And Olivia is the perfect woman for that job.

Olivia

“So when’s the wedding?” Josie texts me.

“Stop asking,” I say. “I’m never getting married.”

“So what is this all about then?” she asks. “Just sex?”

I throw the phone and watch as it bounces off of the mattress, landing onto my pillow. It vibrates a few more times, letting me know that Josie is insistent on being the most annoying friend I’ve ever had. I know she keeps bringing up the marriage thing because she thinks it’s funny to tease, but after hearing it so many times, you have to wonder, when will it end?

I focus on getting ready for tonight. A nice hang out before he takes me to a fancy dinner. No sex. I have to keep telling myself. Stay strong, Olivia. But when I think of him, wearing that sly smile and maybe a clean suit, I feel a rush in my body, an excitement I cannot contain.

When I hear the knock on my door, I’m standing in front of my mirror, wearing no bottom. I scramble to find my skirt. “One second!” I yell out. The door knob turns. Of course, I didn’t lock the damn thing. “I said, one s—” It’s too late. He has already taken the liberty of walking into my apartment.

I run into my closet, but he gets a glimpse of my butt as I duck and hide. “I love that booty,” he calls out.

“You promised!” I yell.

“I know, I know. I won’t do any foul things tonight. I’ll keep my hands to myself,” he says.

“Good,” I tell him. I turn around and dig through my piles of clothes, until I find the white skirt I was looking for. I stand up and turn back around, only to find him standing right in front of me, staring at my half-naked body. “Hey!” I shout.

“What? I said I would keep my hands to myself,” he laughs.

“Not funny,” I say. My face feels hot, like flames pushing against my skin. I jump into my skirt and button the front. I push past him and he jumps aside.

“What’s wrong? It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” he says.

“You said you’d be on your best behavior,” I say. I stop at the end of the hall. I turn around and see the dissatisfaction on his face. I walk back to him and sigh.

“I’ll keep my eyes off you and my hands to myself. There. Happy?” he asks.

I bounce on the edge of my toes and feel my heel hit the ground three times before speaking. “I don’t know,” I say.

“What don’t you know?” he asks me. I stand close to him. Our fingers are inches away from each other.

“Things,” I say.

“Pretty vague,” he smiles.

I look away and focus on the spinning fan above us. I look back at him and make up my mind. “Maybe you shouldn’t keep your hands to yourself,” I say. “Maybe it’s not nice to do that.”

I feel my fingers twitch forward. They graze his own. He grabs ahold of my index finger and pulls me forward. I can’t stop looking at his lips. I can’t help but want to reach out and touch his abdomen again, to feel the muscular ripples. We both lean forward and I know I’m about to feel bliss. We’re going to take this to my bedroom. He’s going to take me, again and again, and promise me the world. He’s going to—

Right when his lips are millimeters from mine, something happens. He pulls away. “No,” he whispers. “Not tonight. I promised I’d be good and I’m going to keep my promise.”

“Fuck our promises,” I say, somehow out of breath, completely flustered.

“Hey, this is your doing. Plus, we’ve got a reservation,” he says. “We should probably get out of here pretty soon. I booked it for an earlier time.”

“Wow,” I mutter. I laugh to myself. “Who are you?” I ask him, as he holds the door open for me.

“I’m just a nice, honest man who stays true to his word,” he says.

“Bullshit,” I laugh. “No man in the history of mankind has ever said those words and meant it.”

“No man, except for me,” he says. “I’m the first and the last.”

“How special.” I roll my eyes, but he squeezes my hand and pulls me toward him.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here,” he says.

We walk down the staircase, laughing about nothing in particular. For the first time in a long time, I realize that I’m happy. I’m happy just walking with the guy. I’m happy when I feel his touch, when I hear his voice. Dammit, I’m happy and, of course, that makes me scared.

We get into his nice car and he speeds to the restaurant. “Best oysters in the world,” he says. “You wanted oysters, right?”

I laugh. “I did say that didn’t I?”

When he parks, he runs outside to grab the door for me like a true gentleman. He takes my purse and walks me inside. A booth is in the corner of the room, completely set up for both of us. A bottle of champagne stands erect, on the center of the table.

“Here you are, madam.” James pulls a chair out for me. I sit down, flattening my skirt. I catch his eye fixed on my ass. I smile, arching my back ever-so-slightly for him.

We order our food. Well, he orders everything for us both. Two lobster tails, oysters, and an order of the best caviar they have. Right now, I’m just downing the champagne at an alarming rate. James. I like him. He’s different from most men.

I’m honestly surprised. The total bill is going to cost at least two hundred dollars. “This place is insane,” I whisper to him. “You really didn’t have to take me somewhere this nice.”

“I owe you it,” he says.

“For taking my virginity?” I smile. Underneath the table, my feet slip out of my shoes. I rub the edge of my socks against his ankles. He gives me a sly smile back, but doesn’t touch me. He keeps to his word.

“I wish I could take it all over again,” he says.

“Yeah? Does it turn you on to think about?” I ask him. “You took my innocence, James. I was so pure until I met you.” I smile and bite the edge of my tongue, teasing him. My hand falls firmly against the top of his pants. I run my fingers across the top edge, until I get to the top buckle. I stop myself and take another drink.

He gulps loudly, reaching for his glass. “Shit,” he whispers.

“Come on,” I say. “Tell me. Do you think about it a lot? My first time…”

He slowly nods. The restaurant feels silent, even though it’s full of people. I put my hand back down on his pants, but this time I move toward the center. I feel it. His hard cock pushes against the fabric like a metal pole. I grip down harder. He breathes, slow and steady. I move my hand up and down for a second and then stop. I look at him. He can barely contain himself. I unzip his pants under the table.

“I think about your first time every single day. I think about the way you felt when I first slid inside you. I think about your body all the fucking time,” he says. “I just want to worship it. You’re perfect.”

He swallows. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down, sharply. “You shouldn’t be doing this,” he whispers. I feel his underwear in my hands. I pull his cock out from the hole. I pull it all out and feel his hard, compact balls.

“Shouldn’t I?” I ask him. “I’ll stop if you want me to.”

He doesn’t protest when I lick my fingers and spread my saliva around his shaft. I move up and down, slowly stroking him. He grows harder in the palm of my hands. His eyes are wide and unsteady. He closes them for a second, only opening them to look down at my cleavage. I slowly undo the top button of my shirt.

“Here?” he asks.

“Where else?” I ask back. He looks around, but can’t find a simple solution.

“The bathroom,” he says.

“No. I like this. It’s more fun this way,” I say.

We stare intently at each other. I just want to be bad. He makes me want to break all of the rules. He reaches under the table and touches my thigh. I slap his hand away. “No touching,” I whisper.

“You’re torturous.” His voice is strained. His senses are on high-alert. He keeps looking around for our food, but it’s not coming anytime soon.

“Am I the best you’ve ever had?” I ask. He moves his head up and down, very slowly. “Am I the sweetest you’ve ever tasted?” Again, he nods very slowly. “Do you want me to wrap these lips around your cock? Do you want to touch me? What do you want to do to me? Do you want me to eat your cum?”

“Stop,” he whispers. This time his voice has lost all the edge it once had. He says, “stop” once to me, but it’s almost as if he’s telling his body to stop. His body twitches and toughens up. I know what’s coming. I place one hand against his chest and feel his strength.

“It’s okay, baby,” I whisper. “You can cum for me.”

He blasts off like it’s the fucking mission to Mars. His cum lands on my hand. I take the dinner napkin and wipe myself off. “You’re insane,” he whispers back. It’s funny watching him squirm and try to zip himself back up. The food comes within a minute, of course.

“Would you like anything else?” the server asks.

“Anything more and I think I might pass out,” James laughs. The waiter doesn’t seem to get the joke, but I’m on the inside. That’s when I start to get the real idea. I’m slowly, but surely falling for this guy.

James

I didn’t expect the hand job under the table, but I’m not complaining. I thought she might have wanted to keep her distance from that sort of thing, but apparently, she’s kinkier than I thought.

She’s amazing. That was amazing. But in all honesty, it throws a pretty big nut in the gears. I came here to set everything straight. I came here, really, to ask her if she’ll be my wife. I’ve got the damn ring and everything. Problem is, she’ll have wanted me to court her pretty hard. I’m sure of it. And I’m not certain that asking right after a hand job is appropriate.

So I wait and watch her enjoy the food. She spoons the caviar onto crackers. She dips the lobster tails until they’re dripping in butter. She drinks her champagne, swallowing every last bubble. And all I can fucking think about is fitting my cock inside her tight, little pussy.

She smiles and sets her champagne glass down. She burps and covers her mouth, turning red in the face. “Oops,” she laughs. I just smile at her. “What? Why are you being creepy?” she asks me.

“Nothing,” I say. “You’re just cute. You’re really fucking cute.”

“You’re kind of handsome, I guess,” she winks.

“No, I mean it. I’m picturing what it might be like to actually date you,” I say.

Her expression completely changes. She goes from playful to serious. “Stop, James,” she says. “You’re like ten years older than me, first. Second, I just don’t trust your little honest-Abe game.”

I laugh and try to comprehend what she just said. “Honest-Abe game?” I ask her. “What the hell is that?”

“I don’t know, but it’s what you’re playing right now. I know how men get. They’re all, ‘I love you so much, baby. I’ll do anything. I’ll buy you clothes, pay for your rent, and kiss your feet in the morning.’ But in the end, they never come through,” she says. “I’m not stupid, you know.”

“You must have had a rough childhood,” I say.

“Actually, no,” she shrugs. “My parents have been together since the beginning. I don’t know where the cynic in me came from, but it’s there.”

I decide to just lay my cards on the table. I mean, why not? What do I really have to lose? Sure, it’s a marriage proposal. It’s a big fucking deal. But it’s obvious that this woman is someone special. Plus, if it doesn’t work out, we get to split a house. My father can be happy I made the attempt at least.

“So, you wouldn’t get married?” I ask her.

She doesn’t stop eating, nor does she look up at me. “I don’t know. I think I will someday, you know? I haven’t even finished my finals yet. I can barely think about today, let alone tomorrow,” she says.

“You wouldn’t marry a guy like me?” I ask again, slow and steady.

“Like you?” she asks. This time, she stops eating her food. “What are you asking, James? This is weird.”

I shrug and grab my glass of champagne. “I don’t know. It’s just an idea,” I say.

“Getting married is just an idea?” she asks. “Are you crazy?”

“I’m just saying, it wouldn’t be that weird. Would it? People get married all the time,” I say.

“Well, when you put it that way,” she says, lifting her empty glass off the table.

“Yeah?” I set mine down.

“No! Hell no. So what? People get married. That’s not a good reason to do it. People also eat fast food every day. It doesn’t mean it’s good for you,” she says.

“See, we’re meant for each other. You’re the health guru and I’m the guy with the scalpel,” I say.

“James, that honestly sounds like the premise to a bad horror movie,” she says.

“Or the start of a great romance,” I say.

“Right.” She grabs her fork and spikes a piece of lobster tail. She holds it in front of her, as if it’s a foreign being. “Anyway, can we talk about something else? This is making me lose my appetite.”

The waiter overhears our conversation and interjects, “How about dessert?”

I look at her and she smiles big. “The chocolate mousse with caramel and whip cream sounds like a dream,” she says.

“We’ll get that and two coffees,” I say. She smiles even bigger.

I shouldn’t have brought up the marriage thing. It was a stupid idea to appease my father. Why the hell do I even care so much? I guess because my mother is in the hospital, on her last days. It makes you see things in a different light. Now, I get the importance of following the path, at least a little bit.

After dinner, we’re stuffed and sitting in the car. I keep the radio playing at a low volume and we just sit and listen to the noises outside and in. “This was really fun,” she says. I fumble the ring inside my jacket. Fun. Well, it was, but there was supposed to be more to this. This was supposed to be the night that changed my life forever. Instead, I just feel fat and stupid.

“Yeah, it was perfect,” I say. “We should do stuff like this more often. You know, when you’re finally done with classes.”

“We should.” She smiles. I should be happy with the smile. I should be utterly thrilled that she’s even this into me. But now I want more. I want her as mine, for real.

“I’ll drive you home,” I say, putting the car into gear.

As I pull out, the wheels smash against the gravel and the smell of seafood wafts back in. She’s looking at me in a daze and I’m not sure if it’s good or bad. When she gently rests her head on my shoulder, I know it’s a good thing. Still, she whispers, “Did you mean what you said in there?”

I know exactly what she’s talking about, obviously, but I try and play dumb. “What? About the service? They’ve got great service,” I say.

“No, dummy,” she says. “About getting married. Why’d you bring that up?”

I can’t tell her about my father, nor can I tell her about the house. I can’t tell her about my revelation, about how life is short and family is everything. It’s not what she’ll want. It needs to be a natural thing. “It’s no big deal,” I say. “I was just postulating.”

“Okay… because you wouldn’t get married to someone that fast, would you? I mean, that’s kind of weird. People usually wait years to do that kind of thing,” she says.

I examine the road and slow down at a light. I turn and smile. “Of course not. I was just seeing what you thought about marriage,” I say.

“Someday I want to,” she says. “But it has to be perfect.”

“Like a story,” I say.

“No. It just has to feel right,” she whispers. Her house isn’t far from here and I know I’m not going to get my answer tonight. I can’t even fathom how I’d go about asking her at this point. So, I swallow my pride and suck it up, like a man should.

“I want to keep seeing you, though,” I say.

“Exclusively?” she asks.

I raise my eyebrows and bite my tongue. I turn another corner. The streetlights hit my eye. Another corner and I’m in her driveway. “Yeah. Exclusively,” I say. “I mean, we don’t have to rush anything. I’m just saying.”

“Are you still having dinner with your family on Wednesday?” she asks.

“Yeah, as far as I know. I’m actually kind of excited. These days, I tend to value the time I get with them,” I say.

“I’d like to go,” she declares. “I’d like to meet them.”

“Seriously?” I ask. I put the car in park and reach out to her. She grabs my hand and puts it against her cheek. She kisses my fingers and lets go. I move my head toward her. I feel her soft lips against mine and I’m dying for her again.

“Seriously. What’s the worst that can happen?” she laughs.

“My dad is sort of intense sometimes, especially if he’s been drinking Scotch,” I say. “He gets all… deep.”

“Like how?” she asks me.

“I don’t know. He’s just very sentimental. No, he’s old school. He’s a bit set in his ways when it comes to the idea of family,” I say.

“Well,” she opens the door, “I think I like that.”

“Hold up,” I say, grabbing her hand. She jumps back in and faces me. “You look beautiful. Always,” I tell her. We kiss. I hold her scent in for as long as I can.

“I’ll miss you.” I smile.

“Sure you will,” she says, shutting the door.

But she doesn’t know me as well she thinks. She doesn’t know that I’m sitting in my car, lifting up the front of my suit jacket and smelling her perfume. She doesn’t know that I’m dreaming of her tonight. She doesn’t know about the ring in my pocket.

Olivia

He doesn’t talk to me for days. Literally, days. Of course, I don’t text him either. He’s supposed to be the one to reach out. There’s no “I had a really nice time last night,” or anything. So I forget about him, for the time being. If he wants to be a jerk, he doesn’t get to talk to me.

Of course, when Wednesday rolls around, I get that text from him. “Dinner tonight, right?” he asks me.

I’m honestly surprised he just assumed. I’m halfway through finals and he hasn’t even asked me how they went. I text back, “Uh, I’m not sure anymore.” It’s harsh, but not as harsh as the deafening silence I’ve been getting lately.

Of course, he’s hurt. Or at least he’s acting like he is. He texts back, “Honestly? Why not? I told them all you were going to be there. They want to meet you.”

It doesn’t take long for me to let it all out. “You haven’t even said one word to me since our dinner date and you expect me to go eat with your family?”

That’s when he calls me and says, “You really like this text thing too much. I’d rather hear your voice.”

“Welcome to 2017. People text, you know,” I say, coldly.

“I thought you might be busy with finals. That’s why I haven’t reached out. Can you forgive me?” he says. And then after some heavy silence, due to my annoyance boiling over, he says, “I’ve missed you so much, you know. I can’t stop thinking about you.” Endless amounts gratitude after endless amounts of silence. Is this the key to happiness?

“You’re a bad liar,” I tell him. “In any case, I might have to pass on the dinner.”

Groans are heard from his side of the phone. “Honestly, Olivia. I’ve been dealing with my mom and I knew you were busy too, so I took a few days to collect myself. Can you blame me?” he asks.

Fuck. I forgot about his mom. Of course he gives me that excuse. Can I blame him? No, I can’t. That pain must be unimaginable. Despite my anger and reluctance, I feel my heart soften. I get that empathetic rush of sweetness. And I cave.

“Fine,” I sigh.

“Really?” he asks. “You’ll come?”

“Yes, but I’m not happy about it. In fact, I’m kind of mad at you right now,” I tell him.

“You’re always mad at me, so it’s okay,” he says. “As long as I get to hear your voice, see your face, and kiss your cheek, I’ll be okay.”

“Bullshit,” I mutter.

“See you tonight,” he sings back to me.

* * *

Hours feel like minutes, and suddenly we’re driving down the freeway with the windows down all the way, screaming Shakira. The volume is all the way up and the bass is maxing out. Don’t ask me how we got here. All I know is that after a few drinks of wine, I’m ready to have some fun.

We pull off the freeway, enter into some side streets, and park near a large, beautiful house. The music stops and we’re heaving out breaths of cold air, laughing wildly. He grabs my hand and says, “I like being around you. It’s the only time I ever have any fun.”

“I like being around you too,” I say. I look at the front porch. The door opens and a woman comes out. “So this is the old, family homestead?” I ask him.

“This is it. That’s my sister, right there,” he says. She waves at us, smiling. She lights up what seems to be a joint. “Yeah, she’s a bit wilder than me.”

“She seems cool, actually. Like, she seems nice,” I say.

“She is,” he says, opening the door. “I think you’ll really like my family.”

“No, you won’t!” his sister calls out. She walks down from the porch and reaches us, hugging James. “My suggestion is to stay away from this family. We’re absolutely insane.”

“She’s lying,” James quickly interjects. I, on the other hand, can’t help but laugh.

“I’m completely lying,” she says. “I’m actually really glad James has brought someone here. He hasn’t had a proper girlfriend in years.”

“Uh,” James starts to speak, but I’m ready to keep the myth going.

I jump in and say, “Right. Girlfriend. Yeah, he was telling me that. I couldn’t believe it. I’m sure I’m not the only girlfriend,” I say.

“No, I’m being serious. He’s a man of solitude. You must be really special,” she tells me.

“Come on, girls,” he says. “Enough talking about me.”

Am I special? I obviously like hearing that I am. I just can’t believe this no-girlfriend stuff. Maybe he’s the real deal, after all.

“I’m Olivia, by the way,” I say. She introduces herself as Jenna.

Before I walk in, I have to admire the house from the outside. It’s absolutely gorgeous, and I don’t mean in a gaudy sort of way. It’s got a real homey vibe to it and really reminds me of certain movies, the way childhood is presented to people. It’s perfect.

From the outside, old, classical music can be heard playing on the inside. When we walk inside, we’re greeted by his father. He’s sitting next to a nice set of speakers and a record player. “Oh, my boy!” he calls out. “And his wonderful girlfriend too! It’s so lovely to meet you.”

Girlfriend. Why does everyone think we’ve discussed that yet? I look at James who gives me an eye of honest confusion and regret. Despite it all, I manage to navigate the situation. “I’ve heard so much about you,” I say. “It’s so good to finally meet you.”

“You’re nice,” he laughs. “But I know my son hasn’t said much to you about me. He’s a very solitary figure. I’m Jim.”

“Everyone keeps telling me that tonight, but I haven’t seen that side to him yet,” I say. I glance at him again and he just shrugs.

“My family likes to make things up,” he says. “I’m a surgeon. I work a lot!”

“We’re not blaming you, son,” Jim says. “It’s just so good to have another woman around the house again.”

“Well, it’s nice to feel so welcomed,” I say.

“Want a tour?” James asks me.

“Do I ever,” I say. “I can’t wait to see your old room.”

“I’ve kept all the old posters up,” Jim says. “All the old crushes and everything.”

“I told you to take all of that down,” James sighs. We walk into the hallway and head toward his room. Before he grabs the door handle, he turns to me and says, “Okay, if this is already too weird, we can leave right now.”

I laugh a little, but shake my head. “No, this is great. Really. You’re like an actual, real person,” I say.

He laughs a little, but keeps my hand tightly bound in his. “What do you mean?” He opens the door and leads me into his room. It has blue wallpaper and there’s a wooden bed in the corner of the room. On the wall are posters of half-nude women, with the occasional motivational quote to accompany it.

“Wow, this is amazing,” I say. “I can just picture you as a kid. See, you’re a real person now.”

“What was I before?” he asks.

I shrug and walk deeper inside. “I don’t know. A weird old man.”

“Shut up,” he says and moves in front of me. I feel my heel give way. I fall onto the mattress and look up at James.

“Or what?” I reply, knowing full well what could happen. “Are you going to operate on me or something?”

“Worse than that, I’m afraid,” he says, towering over me. Yet, as he lowers his lips to mine, I know that he’s with me and I’m with him. It’s just this feeling that I have. Right now, we’re together. Tomorrow, we’ll separate briefly and figure out what this thing is. Or… maybe we won’t.

“I like this a lot,” he says.

“Me too.” I kiss him again and my body aches for him. He’s everything. No. He’s nothing. I can’t rely on him, no matter how right this feels. This is just a summer fling.

“My family really likes you,” he says. “I can tell.”

“I’ve been here for like fifteen minutes, James,” I say. But I know it too. His family is great. They’re nice, understanding, and though his father is a bit old-fashioned, it’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before.

“Still. I can sense it. They think you’re great,” he says.

I blush, but try to hide my cheeks. He lifts me off his bed and kisses me one more time. “Nice posters, by the way.” I wink.

“When you’re sixteen, you can hardly contain yourself.” He laughs and shakes his head. “Man, that was such a weird time.”

“I don’t even want to do the math on how long ago that was,” I say. He pulls me out of the room. “My cradle robber.”

“Ugh, don’t call me that!” he exclaims. I grab his firm butt and smack it right after.

“Enjoy the tour?” Jim asks us, as we find our way through the hall.

“The posters really did it for me, I have to admit,” I say.

“Haha, James was always a gazer.” He chuckles.

I look over at James. Even at thirty-five, he still gets embarrassed by his dad. “A gazer,” his sister laughs alongside their dad. James reluctantly walks over to the table and I sit next to him. His dad brings out a big pot roast and exclaims, “Here it is! The feast!” When that is set in the center, he runs back to the kitchen and grabs a big plate of mash potatoes and gravy. In the middle of the table are two huge bottles of wine.

“I don’t know what to say. In all honesty, this place is amazing. I’m really humbled to be here,” I say. “And this food… Jim, thank you.”

“No, thank you,” he replies. He quickly runs around the table and pours everyone a glass of wine. It’s enough alcohol to all give us DUIs. He holds up his glass and we all follow his lead. “To momma,” he says.

“To Mom,” James repeats. He’s stoic, but his eyes seem to gloss over with sadness.

“Mom,” Jenna says too.

“To Mom,” I say. We clink our glasses and drink it down. Then, the real dinner starts.

Meat, potatoes, the best damn gravy I’ve ever tasted, and some veggies on the side. It truly is amazing. I hate to admit this, but I could fall in love with James based on his dad’s cooking alone.

“So, Olivia,” Jim says. “What do you do?”

“I’m actually graduating from the University fairly soon. I’ll have a degree in health,” I say.

“Well, that’s fantastic!” Jenna says, mouth stuffed.

“Thank you,” I say. “It’s something, I guess. It’s not surgeon status.” I look at James, who bashfully keeps his eyes on his food.

“Every path is important,” Jim says. “Just remember that and keep going for it. My son chose his purpose and I’m sure you know yours.”

“Actually, I don’t,” I say. Jim laughs slightly. “Seriously, I just knew I needed a degree. Don’t get me wrong. I’m interested, but it’s sort of just something I fell into.”

“Well, then. Perfect,” Jim says.

“Let’s not talk about careers,” James speaks up.

“So be it. How did you two meet?” Jim asks.

I smile and start to feel bashful myself. “Actually, he spoke at the university,” I say, biting my tongue a bit.

“No way,” Jenna whispers. “James, you’re twisted, man.”

James angrily glances over at Jenna, but changes his temper. “Yeah, actually. I gave a speech in one of her classes. Her friend made her follow me outside.”

“Oh, God,” I mutter to myself. “I already forgot. Yeah, I have the worst friend in the world.”

“That’s how we met. We’ve only been out a few times, but…” James stops himself for a second to look at me. He takes a deep breath in and finishes his glass of wine. “I really like her. She doesn’t want to believe me, but I think she’s perfect.”

“And the wedding?” Jim asks.

“Dad,” James sighs. “Come on. Not now.”

I awkwardly scoot my chair forward. The food shifts in my stomach. I struggle to come up with something to say.

“It’s funny, actually. He was joking around about marriage the other day,” I say, awaiting laughter. There is none.

“Already?” Jenna asks. “James, you’re moving faster than normal.”

Jim jumps in, eagerly. “Yes, well. Family is the foundation of life.”

“Dad!” both James and Jenna jump in and stop his dad from moving forward with his very old school speech.

James looks at Jenna and works up the courage to say something. Yet when the words don’t come, he doesn’t continue to play this game. He sighs and lets his napkin drop onto the table. He pushes back and gets up. “I think we should probably get going,” he says, glancing at me. His eyes dart back and forth. I can tell that it’s probably time, even though we haven’t been here for that long. Tensions are high and they’re going through something much bigger than I can understand.

“James,” Jenna sighs and stands up with him. I crawl out from my seat and rub James’s arm in mild support, but I’m pretty confused at this point. Jim looks at all of us as if we’re crazy.

“I have more scotch,” he says.

“I think that’s the last thing we need,” I whisper.

James and I walk outside and immediately the fresh air is like a healing blanket that surrounds us. In the distance, crickets and other odd insects can be heard singing their song. Summer. It’s finally summer and it’s a time to celebrate… or at least that’s what I thought summer was all about. Right now, everything feels like a funeral party.

“Sorry about all of this,” he says to me when things start to feel quiet again. I can faintly hear someone inside collecting the plates and silverware from the table, probably Jenna.

“It’s okay,” I shrug. “Families are weird, you know?”

“I guess so. Normally, we’re pretty close. Things aren’t this weird at least. Lately it just feels like dad is spiraling. I mean, it could be worse, but he’s in this weird family thing. I don’t really get it. I’m trying to, but it’s like a fucking broken record at this point,” he says.

I nod and let myself fall against him. It’s going to be okay, I tell myself. Everything happens for a reason. This is just a hard time. These are all the things that I should be telling him right now, but I can’t find the right way to get the words out. Part of me understands that he just needs someone to talk to, to hold onto, a woman who is going to keep him steady and strong.

“You can get through anything, James,” I whisper.

He looks at me like I’m a glowing orb of truth, sent here from a distant world or something. Then, he kisses me. He caresses the back of my head and kisses me deeply. We both connect on such an intimate level that when we fall back, it almost makes no sense.

Still, as deep as we can go together, there’s still something on my mind. “What did your dad mean by that whole marriage thing?” I finally ask him.

“I don’t know. It’s part of that whole family thing. He wants me to get married. I hear it on a daily basis,” he says.

“But…” I hesitate to move this conversation forward. It’s not the best of topics and I know it can’t end well. My curiosity is what drives me forward, as well as the nagging urge to understand him and the world he grew up in. “Doesn’t he know that marriage is a natural thing that just sort of happens when it needs to? You can’t force something like that.”

He laughs and nods his head. He taps on the wood railing outside and rubs my back. “He grew up in a different world. A different time. Time,” he sighs again and thinks about that world. “Man, it must have been really different. I mean, I think my parents were in love. They stayed together through everything. If that isn’t love, what is? But, the thing is, back then… people did what they felt like they had to do. They had to make a family to provide something for their life. They had to continue that process, work hard, and solidify a plot to their name.”

“It’s weird to think about,” I say.

“Yeah, well, it’s a catch-22, isn’t it? On one hand, that way of living created us and this, and everything we enjoy. On the other hand, it stifled a lot of people’s dreams. Now, everyone can be an individual. At least, that’s what they say. Sometimes I think we’re worse off,” he says. “But it doesn’t matter. I found you. You’re someone I can feel good around, and I’m not going to let that go away. I know tonight was sort of a dud. I know my family might seem crazy to you. But know that I can be different. Know that when I look at you, I see the world in such a different light. It’s so much brighter with you in it.”

I open my mouth to speak, but my vocal chords have stopped working. My throat feels heavy with emotion. The door opens and Jenna quietly walks out. “Hey guys,” she whispers. “I just want to apologize for everything tonight. I didn’t mean to step on any toes. I’ve been doing that a lot lately. There is a lot of crazy shit going on in this family right now. It’s hard to know what to say, if anything.”

“Don’t worry about it, Jenna. Honestly. It’s my bad. I shouldn’t have freaked out in there,” James says. “It’s just dad won’t stop with the whole—”

“Yeah,” she laughs. “Family is everything. He’s going overboard. He can’t say anything to me about it anymore. I’ve started the whole death process already.” She laughs again, betraying her sadness in the light edges of the sound that comes out.

“He’s right. It’s just that I see the world a little bit differently,” James says.

“We all do,” I whisper back.

“Want to smoke this joint?” Jenna asks, reaching into her purse. She pulls out a long and slightly fat torpedo looking thing, and holds it in front of her like it’s the saving grace of the night. James looks at me. I look back at him. And we both start laughing hysterically.

“I think we should head out,” I say.

“Someday I’m going to get you to get high with me, brother. Trust me, the stress will wash right off,” she says.

“That’s what you keep telling me, Jenna. I’m sure you’re right. You always are,” James says.

We step down from the porch and start walking back to the car. “I love you,” Jenna says. “You too, Olivia. I don’t know you, but I feel like I do. See you tomorrow at the hospital?”

“Thanks. You too,” I say.

“I’ll be there,” James says in his gravelly voice.

As we walk down the path, James grabs my hand. Our fingers intertwine and his palm squeezes down hard. Shivers move up and down my spine. I know that we’re moving closer than ever before. I know that something is changing within both of us, and even if we can’t quite mutter the right words, my whole life feels… lighter.

James

It’s like water. Fluid, moving, ever-changing water. When you look at it, it appears blue, or maybe even a dark turquoise. Really, it’s all just a trick of the eye, isn’t it? When you dive into the waves, it appears white as it mixes together and rolls onto the shore. As the waves pass and you swim to the center, you realize the danger that you’ve gotten yourself into.

It’s not blue. It’s not turquoise. It sure as hell ain’t white. It’s nothing. It’s a void. It’s darkness solidified into liquid. Yet, the curiosity keeps you going, keeps you moving down. It doesn’t pull you. You pull yourself. Dive, dive, dive! Into that impenetrable deep. What will you find? You’ll never know until you know. It could have sharp teeth. It could be something you’ve been waiting for.

My father thinks family is everything. I try not to disagree with his assessment, but it’s almost impossible not to ponder further on the subject. Family is just one part of it. Yet, the vast ocean of life offers so much more. What about the dive into the deep unknown? What about the adventure and the light at the end of the tunnel? Isn’t the grandest part about life its mystery?

Or maybe my father is right. Maybe there is some sort of set plan for us. Perhaps we have to go through the motions because that’s just part of the human story set within a “unstable” civilization. Or maybe I’m just thinking too damn hard about all of this.

When I look over at her, sleeping so soundly, I can’t help but feel the pain of love within my chest. For me, she is that impenetrable deep. She is the unknown, the mystery I’ve been waiting for. She has disrupted my life in the best way possible. Now, I’m stuck diving deeper and deeper, without any chance of getting air.

“What’re you doing up?” she whispers. Her voice is groggy and cute. Her lips pout against the bed sheets. Her lids weigh heavy against her eyes. I sink back into the covers. I wrap my arms around her. I kiss the top of her head. I grab her cheeks and kiss her lips. I bite her lower lip. I pull back and inhale every bit of her. I’m obsessed, so fucking obsessed.

“I have to go to the hospital,” I say.

She shoots up and grabs me. “The hospital? Why? Are you okay?” I laugh and grab her. We’re both rolling on the bed.

“Oh yeah,” she laughs. “That’s where you work. Don’t go in today. Let’s just do this.”

I pin her against her pillow and her arms go effortlessly behind her back. I grab her wrists and squeeze. She kisses upward and our lips meet in a fiery heat.

“How about I come right back here,” I say.

“When?” she asks.

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out,” I say. “I’m coming back here when I’m done and I want to find you just like this, waiting for me. Wet.”

“Wet.” She repeats the word in a choked whisper.

“Dripping wet for me,” I say. I pull back and crawl away from the bed. I’m piercing hard right now and she can see every inch in front of her. She’s got this look in her eyes that tells me she wants to reach out and grab it, but she doesn’t have permission to right now. That’s for later.

“I’ll be right here,” she says, in a trance.

“Good girl.”

I grab my clothes and boots. I quickly put everything on, glancing at her every few minutes to make sure she hasn’t moved. I walk toward the door and look back one more time. “Don’t worry,” she says. “You know what I am. I’m good.”

“For me you are,” I say.

I close the door and walk to my car. I drive to the hospital, cock still hard and throbbing. I drive. Pedal to the metal. I get to the hospital. One surgery takes an hour and a half. I am on fire. With her on the mind, I can conquer any task in front of me. My crew looks at me, stunned.

I walk through the halls knowing that life is finally good. Well, at least it’s as good as it can be. When I push past that third hall, I know where I’m going. I see Jenna at the end and the sway to my walk sort of disconnects from the rhythm around me. My steps slow down until all I can offer her is a slight frown. “What’s up?” I ask her.

“Oh, you know. Same shit as always, right?”

“Right,” I say.

There’s nothing else to say. I start to feel guilty when I wonder how long will this process last? How long will we wait for our mother to die? Every day is a battle. I hate admitting that, but it’s true. This reoccurring nightmare has us all entrenched in a very real and odd spot.

“I should probably see her,” I say. “Who knows how long we have.”

“Go ahead. I’ll be out here,” she says.

I walk inside and feel my throat choke up. My body feels tight and worn down. I’m tired. Work has been hell on me. I have Olivia as my solace, and that’s something, but is it something I can rely on forever? Can she really support all of this weight?

“Hey Mom,” I whisper.

Her eyes move and I feel my heart ache with pain. My fists clench and teeth gnash together. For a second, I start to regress a bit. I look to my side, at the glass window. I have a sudden urge to hurl a chair right through it, as if that’s going to solve my every problem. But it’s not a man’s job to smash and break every setback that is put in his way. When anger isn’t an option, sadness creeps in. I fall to the floor and feel the tears push past my eyelids.

Mother… my only mother. She was the woman who raised me. She was the woman who taught me everything. She taught me how to be humble, how to help people, and how to turn the other cheek. She was the one who made me want to become a surgeon. What will happen when she is gone?

I pick myself off that waxy-coated floor, shining from the artificial light that hangs from above. I move forward to her bed, and sit down next to her. I take her hand in mine and force a smile out. “I’ve met someone, Mom. She’s perfect, a real angel,” I say.

Do you love her? She doesn’t utter the words, but that’s exactly what she’d say if she could. If you don’t love her, you shouldn’t waste her time.

“I think I love her,” I say. “But how can you be sure? Did you know right away when you met Dad?”

There’s not going to be any real answers here. I’m talking to a woman who’s knocking on heaven’s door. The only answers I’m going to get are from myself. She would have told me that her and my father were of different circumstances. She would have said that she knows better now, that good life decisions are constantly shifting due to circumstances and customs.

The only thing that matters in life is what feels good, but it has to make others feel good too. Love is about humbling yourself for another person. When I am around Olivia, I want to make her laugh, I want to hear her happiness, and I want to make sure she’s always being listened to, even if times are tough.

I want to kiss her nose. I want to smell her scent. I want to see her and feel her every god damn second of the day. Is that love?

I squeeze my mother’s hand again and nod to myself. “I’m here, Mom. I’m here.” I don’t leave this time, even though I could. Instead, I stay for my mother. I stay because she’d stay for me. My sister eventually comes back inside. I look back at her and the flood of memories comes in.

“She was the best mom in the world,” I say.

“She was and is,” Jenna says, unable to let go. There’s a long pause and all that can be heard are doctors’ shoes hitting the ground outside, and the air conditioning. Occasionally, there’s the sound of someone from another room, coughing or calling for a nurse. “Is this really it? Is she leaving us, James?”

I nod, but I don’t let my head hang low. I keep my chin up for her. I then grab her hand and squeeze. I have to remain strong for everyone. I have to hold the entire world up in case they all fall down. “Yes, Jenna. She’s leaving,” I say. “But it’s okay. She gave us all she needed to.”

“There could have been more,” she cries. “There was supposed to be more. She’s not that old.”

“There are no guarantees. Whatever happens is what was going to happen. They did their best. Now it’s up to her whether or not she leaves today, tomorrow, or in a week. Whatever happens, I’m here for you and Dad. I hope you know that,” I say.

“God dammit,” she sighs. She begins to weep, deep and painful. I can barely stand it, but I have to. “Why do you always have to be the one to keep us lifted? Why can’t you suffer with us?”

I have no answers for her. It’s just in my nature. I don’t say anything and she doesn’t beg me anymore to give her an answer. The only thing that’s not up in the air is right now, the present. Even with this pain surrounding me, I have one beacon of hope, one bright light. Olivia. And she’s waiting for me. Is she the love of my life? Am I just marrying her because my father wants me to find a woman? I can’t answer those questions yet, but when I can, I’ll make sure she knows.

Olivia

The door opens. My mouth is dry and my heart is beating fast. My tongue pushes out of my mouth and licks my lips. I breathe in the cold air. His footsteps are heavy. I open my eyes and see him stop before me. My hands are positioned above me still. I’m completely nude. My legs cross slightly out of fear.

“I’ve been waiting patiently this whole time, doctor,” I say. He doesn’t smile.

“You act like I should reward you,” he says, while unbuttoning his shirt.

“Well, I have been good. It’s what you wanted, right?” I ask. The saliva hangs in the back of my throat. He throws his shirt in the corner of the room and steps one foot forward.

“You don’t get a treat each time you do something that I want,” he says. “You’re doing what you’re supposed to do. That’s all.”

“Well, then.” I smile. Again, he doesn’t smile back. “I guess I’ll just have to revert to being bad.”

“You’ll always be bad. Won’t you?” he asks. He then unbuttons his pants. He slowly zips them down and lets them hang open.

“I don’t think it’s possible for me to be one hundred percent good. I’ve been tainted for a long time,” I say.

“Ever since you met me, huh?” he asks.

“Ever since I met you.”

He slowly moves onto the bed. He takes off his pants. “Close your eyes,” he tells me. He lowers his mouth onto my stomach. He kisses me, sliding his tongue against my warm skin. I close my eyes and breathe in sharply. I can’t stop with him. I need him.

Emotions are running high at this point. I can hardly breathe. He looks at me and smiles, wicked. He reaches down with his strong, right arm. His fingers push past my lips. They curl inward against my g-spot. I gasp and bite my lower lip.

“You’re wet,” he says. “Just like I asked.”

“That’s all you,” I whisper back.

I open my eyes briefly and see his huge cock hovering over my wetness. He sees me looking and shakes his head. “I said no peeking,” he says.

“I like to look at it. I like to see it disappear inside of me,” I say.

“You’re dirty,” he says. “I love it.”

He presses the tip against my clit. He lowers his head back down and we kiss for longer than expected. His tongue moves against mine. He pulls back, but I keep my mouth open. I lower my tongue out for him and he licks it. Our lips close against one another, once again.

He thrusts, moving his cock against the top of my pussy. He’s teasing me to no end, building this whole thing up. Of course, I love it endlessly. I can’t get enough of it. When I see it, it looks thicker than normal, like he’s been waiting for me all day. “Put it inside me,” I beg and reach down for it.

He grabs my hand and pushes it back over my head. He keeps it there, steady as we breathe with passion and dark lust. All it takes is one solid thrust for him to find his way inside. He moves slowly, giving me some warning, but once he’s in, he gives it to me hard and deep.

I watch as his hips push back, muscles protruding around his ass. He thrusts again with power. His groans echo the same results. Every inch of him sinks in and I watch as his pelvis presses against me. All the way, deep, his balls smack against my ass. He grabs my legs and forces them together. He kisses my thighs and moans loudly.

“Do what you want to me,” I say.

“I am,” he quips back.

“Fuck,” I groan to myself. He moves faster, as the bed squeaks loudly. “Fuck, fuck fuck!” I yell to his rhythm. I arch my back up. He picks me up with one palm, holding me close as hell to him. I push my cheek against his muscular chest. I bite his tight skin. He fucks me harder and then throws me back down onto the mattress.

He flips me over without a word. I lay on my stomach as he jumps on my back. “You’re a beast,” I tell him.

“I know,” he says. “I’ve been waiting for this all fucking day. You have no idea.”

“I’m yours,” I whisper. But he knows that.

I feel his cock slip deep inside me. His fingers press against the dent in my lower back. He holds on for good measure, thrusting wildly. With each deep push, I can feel his balls hit the top of my pussy. Sometimes they brush against my thigh. I grow more and more turned on by the sound, by the feel, and by his unfaltering strength. He’d give me everything in the world if he could. Why? Because I give him everything he’s dreamed of. Because I’m new. Because I’ve only been his.

I start to shake when he pulls my hair back. The tight pulsating feeling enters between my legs. I can’t stand it and yet, I urge it to come further. I grow wetter and wetter, and I can hear it. So can he. “Yeah, baby,” he whispers. “Do it.”

I scream loud, as if I’ve been attacked. My orgasm shoots into my body and it’s almost painful on its first arrival. I shake away from him, yet he doesn’t let me escape. I’m in his hold until he releases me. My body keeps writhing, as pleasure drips into every tender part of my body. He keeps thrusting into me, never letting up.

As my orgasm dies down, he starts growing louder. I smile and turn my head so I can see him. He grabs the side of my head and pushes down. “Yes!” I scream. “Be rough with me.” He moans, cock thickening. His head lurches back and with all the intensity of the world, he pulls out from me.

He holds his cock proudly in his hand, pulling back on it. A huge load of warm cum shoots out. It comes in streams, almost never ending. It drenches my back, it covers my ass, and during the last shot, I spin around and catch it in my mouth. He shakes like a rattlesnake, unable to bear the pleasure of having my tongue curled around his aching cock. Now he’s mine.

When it’s all over, he can barely stand, let alone keep his eyes open. “I love you,” he says. “I love you more than anything in the world.”

“Stop it,” I laugh. “You just like that I make you cum so much.”

“No.” He heaves in air. “Well, I do like that part, but that’s not why I’m saying it. I’m saying it because I do love you. Shit. I guess I shouldn’t be saying any of this. Maybe it’s not the time. I just thought—”

“What do you want from me?” I ask him. “Honestly. A girl likes to be told these things sometimes, but it might be good to tell me your intentions. Because right now, I have no idea whether or not this is just fun or if you want something long-lasting.”

“You met my family the other night. What more do you need to know?” he says. The answer annoys me. Obviously I met his family. I’ve met other boys’ families before. The next month I never heard from them again. This shit happens to women all of the time.

“You’re stupid,” I sigh and fall against the pillow.

“Come on.” He falls back with me and tries to hold me. I push him away.

“Guys do this. They get emotional. In the end, they know they can’t commit as much as they thought. I’ve told you all of this before,” I say. “You’re a lot older than me. You could easily dip out of this without any moment’s notice. I’m just confused, okay?”

“Well, don’t be confused,” he says. “I’m not going anywhere. Are you?”

“I don’t know. I just got done with school, James. Am I supposed to just stay here for you?” I ask him.

“I don’t know,” he says. “I thought you didn’t have much of a plan.”

“Big deal,” I say. “I don’t. But that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy the idea of being able to go anywhere I want. Maybe I want to go to Tokyo for a year, or move to Wyoming.”

“Wyoming?” he scoffs. “Seriously?”

“You don’t know. Maybe I want to work on a ranch for a couple of months, or something.”

“If you want to work on a ranch for a couple of months,” he laughs, “go ahead and do it. I’m not stopping you. If you want to go to Tokyo to eat Ramen and Sushi for a year, you can do that. I have my obligations here, but I would sacrifice my sanity as long as that meant you coming back to me.”

“I don’t know what it means. The future is always uncertain,” I say. “And your dad keeps talking about marriage and stuff… I don’t know what I can handle right now. I just entered a new phase of my life.”

“If you love me, just say it,” he says. “That’s all I need right now.”

But I ignore his request. There’s something else that needs further examination. “Why does your dad keep talking about marriage. What’s up with that?”

He sighs and looks away. “It’s nothing,” he says.

“Bullshit!” I yell. “Look at me. What’s going on, James?”

He looks at me with guilt in his eyes. “My dad gave me a proposition,” he says.

“What kind of proposition?” I ask. I want to lunge at him. I want to push him away from me. But I have to hear the words come from his stupid mouth.

“He said if I get married, I get the family house. It’ll be written in the will,” he says.

“You bastard,” I whisper.

“You don’t understand,” he says, rushing his words out. “My mom is dying. The house is a part of her. I can’t lose it.”

“You’re sick!” I scream.

“Olivia, I really love—”

I push him away, finally. I jump out of the bed. “You thought if you tricked me into giving you my virginity, tricked me into loving you, and caring about you, that you could trick me into marrying you, all for a stupid house? Do you not see how fucked up this is?”

“It’s not like that, Olivia,” he says. “I really love you. I mean, I fell deeply in love with you. You’re my light. It doesn’t matter what my father wants. It’s what we want.”

“Oh God, I’m going to be sick,” I say. My stomach lurches. I balance myself against the wall and take a deep breath. “Kill two birds with one stone, right? That’s your thinking?”

He shrugs. “I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t feel like this is real,” he says.

“Leave,” I say. “Please just get out.”

“Olivia…”

“Leave!”

He puts his hands up in the air and grabs his things. He slides his pants over his naked body. I fall to the floor and press my eyes against my kneecaps. I hear him walk to the door. “I’ll call you, okay?” he asks.

“Please don’t,” I say. “Please, just never contact me again.”

And just like that, the man I was falling for walks out of my life.

James

What the fuck is wrong with me?

It’s hard not to keep repeating that question in my head, over and over again. What is wrong with my family? Who am I? Am I the same monster she thinks I am? I shouldn’t have told her the truth. No. The truth must always be said. I shouldn’t have entertained my dad’s proposal. Now, I’m without the woman I fell in love with. Now, I feel empty and completely incomplete.

I was a man, no doubt. But without her, I’m just the shell of a man, a walking imbecile. She was what made me whole. She gave me real purpose. I have no idea what to do.

I keep trying to call her, but there’s no answer. Days go by without one word uttered between us. My heart is nonexistent. I don’t deserve a heart. No, I truly deserve nothing. I dug my own grave on this one. Now it’s time to accept the consequences. Man up and move on.

A week passes by and I still haven’t recovered. When my phone goes off, I pay no mind to it. I go about my work day as best as I can and keep on my solitary path. It’s only when I take off my clothes to jump into the shower when I see her name on my screen. Olivia. Fuck me.

I quickly open it with enough veracity to destroy anything in my way. I search its contents, as if the words I’m reading don’t make sense. My heart is beating against my sternum. “I’ll do it. But I’ve got conditions,” she says.

“Fuck,” I mutter. “No way.”

“I’d rather be with you than submit to my father’s request,” I tell her.

“I don’t give a flying fuck. I don’t love you anymore. It’s either this or nothing,” she says. Harsh, but I understand her anger.

I pace around my bathroom and search for an answer. “Fine,” I reply. “What are the conditions?”

“No marriage contract. I’m not your property and never will be. If your father gives you that house, I own half of it. You’ll sign over half the equity. Do we have a deal?”

I sigh and let my back hit the bathroom wall. “Fuck it,” I tell myself. “What do I really have to lose? At least she’ll sort of be in my life still.”

“We have a deal,” I text her. “When’s the wedding?”

“How fast can we get it set up?” she asks. “You’re buying the dress, by the way.”

“We can go to a court house this Sunday if you want. I can tell my father we wanted it to be a private ceremony. Jenna and he can attend. Is that okay?” I ask her.

“Whatever,” she texts back. “I guess I’ll see you Sunday. I’ll pick out the dress and you’ll reimburse me.”

“Fine.” I throw my phone against the door and press my palms against my face. Fuck. How did I let this happen? How did this turn into a game of chess? She has all the power. There used to be equality in all of this. What’s the fucking point?

The point is I’m not giving up. This might be a fake marriage for a bullshit house of memories, but that doesn’t mean I can’t convince her to be with me. She’s mad at me now, but I can prove to her that I will do anything for her. I will go out of my way to protect her, to devote my life to her. She’ll know that my love was something different.

I walk back over to my phone. Luckily, it’s not broken. I call up a familiar number and press send. “Dad? Guess what? I’m getting married.”

Olivia

“I’m getting married,” I tell Josie. “To the doctor.”

“What. The. Fuck,” she says. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Yes and no. It’s not real. I’m going to get it annulled immediately. I found out that he was going to propose to me in order to get in his daddy’s will, so I dumped his ass,” I tell her. “Then, I got to thinking. Maybe I should get half of what he gets.”

“You’re dropping way too much on me, way too fast. Wait, you’re telling me that he proposed to you in order to get into his dad’s will? Um, Olivia, that’s fucked,” she says.

“Yeah, I know. I’m done with him, okay? I don’t even know why I’m telling you this, really,” I say.

“…and you’re marrying—sorry, fake marrying him—in order to get half of what he gets?”

“It’s his childhood home or something,” I shrug. “And yeah, why shouldn’t I? He took my virginity. He broke my heart.” I try to hold back from crying, successfully, but my chest hurts and Josie knows it.

“Something tells me you’re not over him,” she says.

“I am definitely over him, you ass,” I say. I try to force out a fake smile, but fail miserably.

“Yet, you’re going in on some weird deal with him. A deal that binds you to him for the rest of your life,” she says.

“It’s just a house,” I say.

“Right,” she looks off to the right of her.

“Well, I’m doing it,” I say. “You can’t stop me.”

“Go ahead. It’s your life. I just think it’s kind of weird. Like, you seem pretty distraught. Maybe you should think this through?” She bites her lip and refrains from making eye contact with me.

Is she right? Of course she’s right. I’m hurt, so fucking hurt. The truth is I loved him. Part of me still does. But what he did disgusts me. Was he planning on staying with me just to get this house? It’s nearly impossible for me to trust him when he tells me he loves me, when he holds me close at night and tells me I’m his light. What the fuck kind of bullshit is that? I feel so betrayed.

“I’m fine. I know what I’m doing,” I tell her. But when the silence gets too awkward between us, I know that I’m being crazy about all of this. Still, I don’t want to stop. Part of me wants to remain close to James to see if he really is the guy of my dreams. Even after all of this, I find myself being pulled to him.

When I leave her house, I drive back to mine. I dive into bed and move my eyes toward my closet. Inside is a shining, white dress that I picked out yesterday. It fits almost perfectly. It just needs a few adjustments.

When I was a little girl, I stayed up at night thinking about what my wedding day might actually be like. I had so many ideas. Tears come pouring down my face when I realize what it’s really going to be. A sham. A disgrace. I can’t tell my parents about this. I shouldn’t tell anyone about this.

I wipe those tears off my face and walk over to the dress. I pick it out from the hanger. It’s so perfect too. A single tear falls to the floor. James. What a fucking con. I let it fall to the floor.

The door knocks and I just know it’s him. I walk over to the door and take a huge breath in. I feel like I’m about to pass out, like none of this is real. I feel absolutely insane. So when I answer with tears dripping down my cheeks, I hope he feels like shit. Whatever he’s about to say can’t take away the pain of being used like this.

“Honey,” an older voice says. I look up and my parents are staring back at me. Fuck. No. How?

I scramble back and nearly fall over in my apartment. “Mom? Dad?” I whisper in disbelief. “What are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here right now.”

“I think you know why we’re here,” my dad says.

“James. Did he…?” I ask, on the verge of flipping the fuck out.

“It’s okay. Josie told us the whole thing,” my mom says. She puts both her healing hands around my arms as I nearly fade into the wallpaper.

“Just let me go, Mom,” I whisper. “Please. Just…”

“What do you want me to do? You want me to fight this son of a bitch? I’ll kick his ass if I have to,” my dad says.

“Scott!”” my mom yells. “Cool it. Let her breathe.”

“I just want you to leave me alone. Both of you. Just go!” I shout.

“No,” my mom says. “We will not go. We came here to help you, baby. We don’t want you marrying someone out of the blue and we sure as heck don’t want you to do that with someone you don’t love.”

The anger rages inside of me. Every emotion inside my body yanks at my heart strings. I don’t know which way to turn. All I know how to do is lash out. “I do love him,” I say. “And I’m figuring my life out just fine. Now, we’re getting married on Sunday. It’s not your decision.”

My dad just shakes his head. “I’m going to find this guy,” he says. “And when I do, he’s done.”

“Good luck,” I say, knowing Josie wouldn’t ever betray that much information. I sigh and take another deep breath. “Look, can you just let me be by myself for a while? I promise to think things through… just let me figure this out.”

Again, my dad throws his hands in the air and gives up. “Deb, there’s nothing we can do. She’s in a trance,” he says. But he doesn’t know how he’s made me feel. He doesn’t remember this kind of love. He’s bathed in the spoils of his own marriage for so long.

My mom nearly sobs. “Please, Olivia. Just don’t make a decision without us. We’re your parents.”

“I know, Mom,” I say, heartbroken.

The lashing out has gotten me nowhere. As they leave my place, I break down.

I want to believe James is a good guy. That’s all. But I want him to confront this and realize why this is a complete betrayal of my trust. Most women would walk away, right then and there. But I’ve seen who James is. I’ve experienced what he can give to someone. It’s more than most men ever could. And if somehow, he can make it up to me, maybe it’s worth it.

It’s not the best logic I’ve had. After all, I’ve just betrayed my parents. I’ve let down my best friend. Everyone around me thinks I’m losing my mind, most likely. Maybe I am, but I still don’t know where this will end up.

I walk back into my closet and sit down on the carpet, holding my dress. “What’s the worst that could happen?” I ask myself. I see my reflection in the mirror and laugh. Fuck it. At the very least, I can sell off my half and never see his ass again.

James

I went and got the damn ring. I bought the suit, I reserved the spot at the court house. I did everything that a man does before the wedding. There’s just one thing she doesn’t know. I’m not getting married. Not yet, at least.

Every time I think of her, I realize how fucked up this whole situation is, and how I let my family troubles get in the way of loving Olivia. It was so pure at first. Now, it’s an off-white, fading into grey oblivion. My father is proud, no doubt. His son is carrying the lifeline down into another kind of oblivion.

Yet, I can’t be proud of myself. I thought I was a man. How I acted was more like a child. I saw an opportunity and decided to take it. In the end, I love Olivia to death. All it took was opening my eyes to see it. She makes me feel… unimaginable. Like I’m on top of the fucking world.

Tomorrow is the day everything changes. It could end in flames. I just have to see it through, but in my own way.

“Are you ready?” my father asks me.

“Ready enough,” I tell him.

“That’s the attitude,” he says.

I nod my head with slight anger. “Dad,” I say.

“Yes, son?” he asks, voice shaking from age.

“None of this will bring Mom back,” I tell him. “My marriage. This celebration. She wasn’t able to see me walk down an aisle. She won’t be able to see me have kids. She won’t experience those things, and that’s okay.”

“Stop it. Right now. I don’t want to hear that kind of talk.” His eyes droop down into his skin. His voice gets rockier, darker even.

“We have to let go sometime. You and I both know this,” I say. “Family is everything. You taught me that. But family doesn’t last forever. It ends and changes eventually.”

My father, unable to react to what I’ve said, falters. Then, without a word, nor a sound, he turns his back and walks away.

No, this marriage won’t be your typical marriage.

I grab the ring and put it back in its box. I place it in my jacket pocket. I walk out of my dad’s house and head to the car. Jenna comes running after me.

“Hey!” she shouts. I turn around and nod upward. “Are you serious about all of this? Olivia… I mean, you guys just met.”

I laugh. “Yeah. And I’m in love with her,” I say.

“Yeah, but James—”

“You didn’t let me finish,” I say. I look up at the house. From his study, my dad peers out from the curtains. When our eyes meet, he retreats. “I can’t let that man dictate how my life goes. I really love that woman, but I was a fool to trade it in for a house, even if this house is full of nostalgia and greatness. I’m not marrying her tomorrow. Hell no. I’m getting her back.”

Jenna squints her eyes and takes a step back. “Wait. What about this house?” she asks, appalled.

“Dad gave me a similar offer to the one he gave you before you got married,” I say.

“James, that was a wedding present,” she says.

“Look, he gave me an ultimatum. He said he’d sell the house away. What was I supposed to do? I don’t want it going to someone else. It should belong to us,” I say.

“Jesus. I mean, I know Dad has been through hell lately, but still. This is too much,” I say.

“Yeah, which is why tomorrow I’m letting him have it,” I say.

“Come on, James. Don’t be ruthless,” she says.

“Jenna, trust me on this. I’m not going to be ruthless. He’s going to know that I love him, but Olivia is far too important to lose. She’s got that heart of gold, you know? It’s that special something you search ages for. It’s in her. I want to continue our relationship,” I say. “I want to learn and grow. I want us to figure things out together. Then, when the time is right, we might get married. Who the hell knows?”

“Then tell her that. Tell her exactly what you just told me. If she hears that, she’ll know,” she says.

“Listen, I have to go. There’s a lot to think about tonight. I just want you to know that I love you. You hear me? I’ve always got your back,” I say.

“I know it, James. You’re a good guy. You hardly ever make any mistakes. You annoy me, brother. But in the end, I know you’re good for this woman. Go get her back,” she says. “And this time, don’t be such a fool.”

Olivia

Wedding bells go off. Attention Olivia: this is the point in your life when everything goes wrong. Wake up.

I open my eyes to the blinking alarm on my phone. The siren noise goes off straight in my ear. Normally, I have to strain my body to fully wake up. This time, it’s instant. “Don’t do this,” Josie texted me this morning at 4 AM. “Please don’t do it.”

I don’t know what I’m doing. I know that I’m definitely going to show up. I’m going to look him in the eyes. And when he puts that ring on my finger, I’m going to mutter the words “Fuck you.”

I walk over to my dress and grab it. I hang it up in the bathroom and get ready. I take my time on my makeup, completely alone and solitary. I imagine myself around my bridesmaids, my mom, and then seeing my dad later on in the day. There will be none of that. No friendly faces. It will be my lonely walk to the edge of the dark, blue sea. Sharks in the water waiting to chew me to bits.

I drive myself to the courthouse. Outside are James and his father. The mere sight of both of them gets my blood boiling. I park my car and sit for a second. I let them wait for me. When it’s time, I walk over to them.

James grabs my hand. I’m shaking. He looks into my eyes. There’s honesty looking back at me, but how can that even be possible when he’s such a liar? “Can we talk for a second?” he asks me.

“There’s nothing to talk about anymore,” I tell him. “Let’s just get this over with, James.”

“You look lovely,” Jim says.

I walk right by him. I walk inside, straight to the clerk at the courthouse. “One marriage license, please,” I say.

“Olivia!” James’s father shouts. “Out here. I wanted to make it a bit more special than this.”

I turn around and walk back out of those large doors. “Just talk to me for one second,” James says.

“James. Stop it. I’m doing what your father wants, okay? We will own that house together. And when the time comes, I will sell you my half. Deal?” I ask him. He doesn’t respond, so I keep walking.

Jim has now met up with another older man. It’s a priest, to be exact. “You have got to be kidding me,” I whisper to myself.

Jim opens his proud mouth and says, “I took the liberty of allowing a dear friend, Father Blume, to officiate the wedding. This is the best day of your life, you two. I know you wanted a smaller wedding. Even an old man like myself can respect that. But every wedding needs a ceremony of sorts. I hope you don’t mind.”

Til death do us part. In holy matrimony. The words sear. They cause undeniable pain because as I stand here, I know that James is going to go through with it. As Father Blume walks toward me with a wicked smile and darkness in his eyes, I know that it’s all over. James, I loved you.

“Please, James,” Father Blume says. His voice sounds like it has been slowed down. My senses start to blur and cross into one another. “Would you like to read your vows?”

“Yes, father,” he says. He glances up at me, and steps forward. With a clear of the throat, he starts speaking. This is it. He’s actually doing this. He’s marrying me in exchange for a piece of property. Here I am, ready to end it all.

“Olivia, I met you on a whim. I was asked to speak to a university class, to a few hundred students on one Wednesday. One and a half hours. That was my allotted time. I didn’t think much of it. I thought it was just some extra pay. I thought I could help out an old friend and colleague. But then, when I thought it was time to go back to the surgery room, a young woman called out to me. I turned and saw her. I smiled cordially. I looked past her. I saw you,” he says.

Fucking asshole, I tell myself. Don’t listen to him.

“I saw true beauty, and she was staring back at me. Everything wonderful was right there, within a short sprint. What could I do? I talked to you. I got your number. I was hoping for a date, but I ended up with so much more,” he says. “And then I went and ruined it all. You see, a heavy weight has fallen on my family. It’s been too much to bear. My father can barely stand amongst it all. He gave me a proposal, indecent and all. I took it in my hands and looked at it. I said, ‘why not? What’s the worst that could happen?’ That was the day I fell as a man.”

I take a step back. There’s acknowledgment in his vows. The truth is buried between the lines. But where is it all heading? In my gut, I still don’t trust him. I look at Jim, standing beside him with a stern look on his face. “Hurry it up, son,” he tells him.

James puts a hand up to silence him, his own father. “Let me finish,” he tells him. Jim backs off, but barely.

“Now, I want to marry you. Don’t get me wrong on this. I look at you and I want to do so much more than just that. I want a family. I want children. I want everything imaginable. Yet, as I fall to my knees, it’s not for your hand in marriage. It’s for your forgiveness,” he says. My stomach is turning with knots. I start to bounce on the edge of my heels. I want to run away. I want to dig under the ground. What the fuck is happening?

James falls to his knees. He looks up at me, still strong as ever. “I fucked up, Olivia. I fucked up big time. I don’t want the house. Fuck the house!” he yells. “I want you. I want us. I’m willing to trade everything in, all my cards for this. You want to move to Tokyo? Hell, I’ll go with you. You want to ranch for a while? I’ll try it. With you, I’ll try anything.”

“Son,” Jim says. “What are you doing?”

“God dammit, Dad,” he says, standing back up. “Mom is dying. There’s nothing we can do about that. It’s time to let go.”

“You don’t tell me what to—”

“You’ve been the best father a boy could ever ask for. Now I’m a man. I know what you think about family. Believe me, I feel it too. That’s why I’m not willing to compromise on this. I want a family with this woman. It’s time for you to move on. Be the father I need right now.”

Jim is speechless. I am speechless. We’re all speechless, especially Father Blume.

James turns back around. He grabs my hands and smiles, eyes full of sincerity. “Can you ever forgive me?” he asks.

“You’ve been such a shit,” I cry. Underneath the tears, a small laugh darts out from my lips. He tenderly wipes away the tears from my cheek. He kisses me lightly, right under the bridge of my left eye.

“I’ve been worse than a shit,” he says. “I’m ashamed. But I want to make it up to you. I want to be yours, finally.”

“I don’t know, James,” I say. The memories of him hurting me can’t go away just yet. “I need time.”

“Then take some time,” he says. “Just don’t forget about me. Don’t shut me out for good.”

“Just give me time, okay?” I whisper.

“Okay,” he says.

I turn and walk away, but my walk turns into a slight jog. I duck into my car and drive around the corner. I park the car in a gas station parking lot, right underneath pump number three. I shield my eyes and I just scream. I scream as loud as I can, from as deep of a place as I possibly can. I let everything out, until there’s nothing left, until there’s only a smile, and laughter, and total confusion.

What the fuck is happening? Can anyone tell me?

James

“Now what?” I ask myself in the parking lot of the courthouse. My dad is standing beside me, too stunned to even communicate with me. The priest has taken leave under a shady grove, fanning himself with his Bible.

“Now what?” I repeat it aloud. “Huh Dad?”

No words come from his mouth, but he glances up at the sky, as if he’s received some sort of revelation. “I’ve been a shit, haven’t I?”

“Yes, you have, Dad. But so have I,” I say.

“I guess it runs in the family,” he laughs.

For the first time in my life, my dad humbles himself in a way I haven’t seen. He starts to show exactly how he’s feeling, without hiding behind his pride, and his values. He lowers himself on the grass and sits down, exhausted. “I don’t know what I was thinking,” he says. “Trying to get you to get married. Bribing you…”

“I grew up in that house too, Dad. It means a lot. I want to honor it, to give it new life, but if you need me to marry someone right this second in order to give it to me, I can’t do that,” I say. “Just trust me on this. When the time comes, I’ll have a family. When it feels right, I’ll jump into that role. I’m not going to be a bachelor forever. I love Olivia. I guess I just have to hope that she still loves me.”

“You two will figure things out. You’ll make things right for her. I know you will. You’re a good man. That’s what good men do. They lower themselves for other people. They’re humble. That’s you, James,” he says.

“Thank you, Dad,” I say.

“Listen, I want to talk about something important,” he says.

He wipes his face with his hands. He groans to himself and tries to stabilize his breathing. “What’s up?” I ask him. “What’s wrong?”

“Your mother,” he says. “I think we all need to see her one more time. I think…” His voice trails off. He looks away, but I can tell that he’s about to cry. I’ve never seen my father cry until now. It’s a big step in our relationship.

“It’s okay, Dad,” I say. “Everything is going to be okay.”

“She lived a damn good life, right?” he asks me.

“She loved her life with you, with us,” I reassure him. The pain hits me square in the solar plexus. Fuck, love can hurt sometimes, but the payoff is worth it. All those memories have bottled up to make us who we are. She loved us. She gave us all she was able, and now she’s leaving.

“I just wish I could have one more moment with her. I didn’t know it would spread so rapidly. I thought we had time. When she first started feeling different, I just looked the other way. I thought she was just feeling our age. Hell, I feel like crap every other day. But then she fell. She fainted, and I knew that something bad was coming. A storm was rolling in,” he sobs. “As a man… no, as a father and husband, you think you’re a hero. You take on that role so fast that you forget your old self. Youth passes, but they don’t tell you that you can’t be strong forever. I couldn’t be a hero for her anymore. I couldn’t fix what she got. I failed her.”

I fall to the grass beside him. I grab my old man and I bring him in. I shelter my own father and try to be the hero he’s talking about, for him, for my family. “You didn’t fail anyone. At a certain point, it’s out of our control. We’re only human, dad. Mom knew it was her time. She never blamed you or anybody else. She told me once that peace was coming for her. I believe that, but you have more to look forward to. You still have life. Let her live through you.”

He nods solemnly and wipes his tears away. “Shit,” he growls. “I’m a grown man. Look at me. I’m crying like a baby.”

“I do it every damn day in that surgical room,” I laugh. “Real men don’t give a damn.”

“It’s a different world than what I’m used to, my boy,” he laughs. He pulls himself off that grass with me. “I think it’s time to talk to the doctors. I think we need to stop the machines. You’re right. She’s not coming back. Peace is coming for her. We need to let her go.”

“Yeah,” I say. “I guess it’s time.”

“We should meet with Jenna. Maybe tomorrow,” he says.

I should be pissed at my father for what he put me through. Sure, dads can be pretty shitty, but this was unprecedented. However, I know that he’s a good man, despite all of this. I know that deep down, he’s trying his best to cope with everything that’s changing around him. He’s an old man who has been forced to accept that his life partner is drifting away from him for good. I can’t begin to imagine how isolating that must feel.

My mind always goes back to Olivia. What will happen with us? I think of her drifting away from me, all because how stupid I’ve been. I can’t let it be for good.

I try to imagine how our life could be. I could move away with her. I could transfer to another hospital, or find other work in helping people. None of that matters to me now when I think about it. I never used to believe in love, like this, but now that I feel it, I know it’s real. It punches you in the gut and leaves you searching for answers. When she’s gone, you feel empty. When she’s near, you feel unstoppable.

“Tomorrow,” I tell my dad. “I’ll tell Jenna.” There’s a lot I need to figure out, but I know I’m on my way. I’m getting Olivia back, even if it means sacrificing my entire life for her. I don’t give a damn anymore. She’s the one. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

Olivia

Her heels tap against the hardwood floor. His boots stand idle, while he crosses his arms. My parents stand above me, livid and appalled. Josie sits in the corner, near me but not near enough. This is practically my intervention. “I could care less about what you say right now, Olivia. This is your life. You shouldn’t be with that man.”

“You don’t understand,” I groan. “It’s not what you think.” I let my head fall into my lap. How did it all go this way? I look over at Josie and roll my eyes. She mouths the words “I’m sorry,” but it doesn’t help or feel any better that she’s around.

I mouth back to her, “Fuck you.”

Josie stands up and looks my dad in the eyes. She then looks back at me, unsure what to do. I avert my gaze and stare straight at my wall. “I fucked up,” she suddenly says. Still, I don’t look at her. No apologizing can help this situation. I’ll always have to look back at this time and wonder how it could have all gone down if we all just behaved a bit more normal.

“Excuse me?” my dad says.

“I didn’t tell you the whole truth,” she says. “I… withheld information.”

“What?” I laugh.

Josie opens her eyes wide at me. “Stop it, Olivia. You know what I’ve done,” she says. “I’ve held our grudge for too long.”

“What grudge?” my mom asks.

“She slept with my boyfriend. It was exactly a year ago,” Josie says. I shut my eyes tight, as if that’ll squeeze the world out from under me. When I open my eyes again, everyone is still there. Insanity. Total insanity. Everyone has lost their minds at this point.

“Is this true?” my mom asks me. “Olivia? Answer me.”

“Mom, it’s none of your business,” I say, exhausted.

“I wanted to get revenge on her. I used her new boyfriend as a scapegoat,” she says. “She was never going to get married.”

“I can’t believe this,” my dad says, turning his back on us. “Why wouldn’t she just deny it in the first place if it wasn’t real?”

“Shame,” Josie says.

“Shame?” I ask her.

Josie quickly talks over me, saying, “She couldn’t bear the guilt and the shame that this brought her. She probably didn’t want to tell her parents the whole story. Who would?” she asks. My mom looks at me with empathetic eyes.

“I am exhausted,” I admit. “This whole thing, not to mention finals and everything that comes with school, has exhausted me. I just want some peace and quiet. There was no marriage. There is no fiancé. And most likely now, there is no boyfriend. There. Is everyone happy?”

“I... I…” my dad stammers.

“Scott, I think we need to just go and let everyone decompress,” my mom says, wiping her eyes, stressed.

“I want to meet this man,” my dad says. “If you’re serious with someone, we want to get to know him.”

“Guys, I don’t know what the hell is going on with all of that right now. I’ll let you know,” I say, annoyed.

“He’s a really good guy,” Josie interjects.

I groan loudly. “Yep. Goodbye!”

My parents shuffle out. “Call us,” my mom says.

“I will,” I whisper. I close the door and turn around to face Josie. She has a joint out and she’s trying to give it to me. “No thanks,” I say.

“Come on. Can’t we repair things?” she asks.

“I don’t think I’m going to repair things with anyone. I think I’m just going to move away and be a shut in spinster for the rest of my life. I can buy a few cats and live a meager lifestyle,” I tell her. “This week truly has been hell.”

“Look, I know I went a little overboard by bringing your parents into this, but you have to look at it from my perspective. You were going kind of crazy,” she says. “And I wanted my friend back. I didn’t want you to run off and get married with some stranger.”

“He’s not a stranger, but yeah. I get it. For a split second, I thought I was actually going to go through with it. In the end, I only went because I needed to see what kind of a man he really was,” I tell her.

“So what happened exactly? He called it off?” she asks.

“He gave his vows. He told me he fucked up. I don’t know. It’s a lot to describe. He said he wasn’t going to take the house. He told his dad off,” I say. “And then I told them I had to leave.”

“Oh my god,” she laughs. “He told his dad off?”

“I don’t know. It’s not that funny,” I say, with sincerity. “James’s mom is terminally ill. She’s basically on life support. His family is going through a lot of shit and I think his father has sort of lost it.”

“Meanwhile, James has to pick up the pieces?” she asks.

I nod and bite my lip. “Yeah, I guess that’s it,” I say. “He’s just trying to be strong for everyone. He wanted the house for memory’s sake. He grew up there. Maybe he was just trying to do good by his dad. I don’t know. I just wish all of this would just stop.”

“Yeah,” Josie whispers. “Are you still…”

“Still what?” I ask.

“In love with him?” Her eyes bounce from left to right, stabilizing in the center of my face.

I shrug and smile, then frown. “I don’t know!” I snarl. “I mean, yeah. On one hand, he’s been a real idiot. A douche. On the other, he’s James. He’s this loveable, hardworking, and humble guy. He’s strong and devoted. He’s sexy and the best kisser I’ve ever been with. There’s a lot to love about him. I’m just hurt and I don’t know how to get over it.”

“People do hurt each other in relationships,” she says. “I’m one to talk. I’ve cheated on most guys.”

We both laugh. “I guess,” I say.

“You want any of my two cents?” she asks.

“I don’t know. Should I take it?” I laugh.

“I guess I haven’t been the best friend you could have asked for,” she says.

“It’s fine. I’ll take it with a grain of salt. I need some words from someone I’m close to,” I say.

She blushes and looks down. “Whenever I saw you and James together, it felt like you two were made for each other. I saw the way you looked at him, but I that’s not what led me to my conclusion,” she says.

“Oh yeah? Then what was it? The way I touched him?” I laugh.

“No,” she says, without any laughter to accompany me. “It was the way he looked at you. I could just tell that you were something special to him. I’ve never had a man look at me like that. When I saw you two together, I felt jealous, like you had the best thing in the world. You had what every woman wants.”

“I had,” I say.

“So he fucked up. So what? In the grand scheme of things, is it really that big of a deal? How many other men will fuck up harder and worse than that? How many times have I, your best friend, fucked up in worse ways? He’s trying his best. You even said so. And the fact that he’s trying to make everything better tells me that he’s still deeply in love with you,” she says. “He’ll do anything for you, Olivia. You’re lucky.”

“I guess I am,” I say. I close my eyes and see him here, next to me. I remember every moment with him. The first moment we met, the first time we slept together. He was always there for me. He always took care of me. I remember how he feels when he holds me close and kisses the top of my head. I remember the way he looked at me. I could never forget that.

Yet, I still don’t know. I still can’t figure out what to do. All I can do is rest easy and hope the answers will come to me.

“You are,” she says. “You’re lucky.”

I’m the luckiest girl in the world. Yet, he still hasn’t even texted me.

James

All three of us stand with Neil, the Chief Surgeon. The group is looking at my mother, trying to figure out how to deal with all of this, and how to let go. “You just let me know when you’re ready,” he says to me. “Take as much time as you need. I don’t have anything to do today.”

“Thanks man,” I say. He grabs my hand and pulls me in for a man-hug. Emotions are high in this room. I wish I could provide solace for everyone. I can’t stand when I can’t offer people close to me some relief. No matter what I do or say, I can’t change the outcome of this. I’m completely powerless.

I guess that’s what I’m learning through all of this. It’s sort of like what my father told me yesterday. You can’t go on pretending you’re a hero forever. You can do what you can, but when the time comes for nature to act, it’ll act in defiance of you, and you’ll have to stand down.

“Dad,” Jenna says, “I think you should say something. I think we should all say something.”

My dad nods with sadness and silent understanding. He looks over at me and straightens up his body. He then walks over to my mother, sits down and takes her hand. “Nancy,” he whispers. “My sweet Nancy.”

The silent hum of the air conditioning rolls through the room. I stare at my mother and can only hope that she can now feel some sort of relief from the pain of life.

“You were my one and only. You gave me everything. Everything. Two loving children. A boy and a girl. A wonderful home. You grounded me in a way I never expected,” he says. He wipes a single tear from his eye. “There were no bad times, only good. I thought that I could hold onto you forever, somehow. When we were young, I thought we had all the time in the world. But time is a damned thing. It speeds up and slows down. It never makes itself known. Now we’re at the end of the road and I’m left wondering how it went this fast. Goodbye Nancy. Stay with me as best you can. Find me and I’ll find you. Forever and always.”

“Dammit Dad,” my sister cries. “That was the sweetest thing that I’ve ever heard you say.”

“Come here, you two,” he says. “Come visit your mother one last time.”

The words cut deep. They sink like stones, falling to the bottom of that dark sea. When the waves build, you know they’ll rise. Higher and higher, they pull you under. Nothing will ever be the same again.

I don’t know what it is, but I take out my phone and text Olivia. I just tell her “I miss you.” I lock my phone and sit down with my family. This is life. It’s as beautiful as it is painful.

“We love you, Mom,” I say. There are not many other words I can give. I’ve been in this room nearly every day since she was admitted to this hospital. I’ve said my share. She knows the impact she made. Now it’s time for her to soar.

“Thank you,” Jenna says to her. “Thank you for everything.”

All three of us hold each other’s hands. We squeeze tight and kiss her lightly. We say our goodbyes. Then we stand up and try to remain strong. I look at Neil. He’s waiting on my call. I’ve made this type of judgment for so many families before, but now I have to do it for my own.

He knows what to do. I nod. “It’s okay, man,” I say. “We’re ready.”

They don’t wait inside the room to see what’s next, but I do. I have to see her through this. She needs someone by her side. I hold her hand and feel her squeeze back. I swear on everything, when she passes, the whole room’s light system goes haywire. It only happens for one second. But I notice it. Everything shines on.

I walk back outside and grit my teeth. The only path is the path forward. I look at my phone. Olivia hasn’t texted me back and all I want to do is hold her in my arms. I want to tell her that life can be easier, simpler as time goes by. I want to kiss her and make sure she knows that everything will be okay if she can just give me a second chance.

But there’s none of that right now. It’s just me, and the harsh reality that everyone around me is feeling. “We’ll need to figure out the funeral arrangements,” my dad whispers.

“Yeah,” I say. “I can talk to some people. I know some good places.”

My dad nods. My sister walks up to me and grabs my shoulder. “Thank you for everything, brother,” she says. “You’ve been so strong for us the whole damn time. I don’t even know how you do it.”

“I don’t know either,” I laugh. My dad walks over to the coffee machine to pour himself another cup. “So, Jenna…”

“Yeah?” she asks.

“You got that joint for me, or what?” I laugh.

“Seriously?” she asks.

I shrug. “I’ve got five minutes. What do I have to lose?”

She looks over her shoulders like a kid who’s about to do something bad. I laugh and wave her over to the hallway. “Be right back, Dad,” I say.

I know the situation is tough and terrible. I know it’s heartbreaking. But the only way to push past it all is to relive moments together, to feel like we’re still a family.

I unlock my office and shut the door. I open the window and sit down. “Here?” Jenna laughs.

I grab an ashtray. “Hell yeah. Neil’s not going to say anything about it. I think we need this. Mom would have laughed, at least,” I say.

She bites her lip and nods. “Yeah. She would have. She would have told us we were stupid too,” she says.

“Well, we are pretty stupid,” I reply.

“True.” She chuckles lightly and grabs something from her purse. She brings it out and lights the end. The paper burns slow and smooth until it hits the filling. She takes a long drag and releases, smoke billowing up and all around us.

“Shit,” she coughs. “This is… strong.”

“Good,” I say. “I haven’t smoked since high school. Can you believe it?”

“Yeah, I can actually. You were too good in college. Always showing me up and getting insane grades. Here I was, smoking all of the time. Had to drop out eventually,” she says.

I take the joint from her fingers. I take a small puff and release. Euphoria builds inside of me. I close my eyes. “You’re killing it, Jenna. Honestly. You’ve done everything your own way. It’s a good thing. Your family is lucky as hell,” I say. “Shit, I’m lucky I have you as a sister. Seriously.”

“Me too, James,” she says. “Hey, did Olivia ever get back to you? Is everything okay with that?”

“I wish I knew,” I say. “She won’t really return any of my texts. I don’t want to call and press the issue either, though. Who knows? It’s probably all hopeless. Maybe I don’t need anyone after all.”

“Stop that. She was the one. I know it. The way you looked at her was like… something else. You know? She knows how you feel about her. She’s younger. She just needs time,” she says.

“Don’t make me feel like I’m an old man.” I take another puff and hand it back to her. My eyelids droop and feel like heavy, damp curtains. My hair feels like sticks of dry grass. My lips and tongue feel like dry sand.

“We’re getting there!” she exclaims.

“Okay, I think I need to stop on this.” I hand the joint back to her and start cracking up. “Life is amazing, isn’t it? Thank you, mother. We love you.”

We’re quiet for a moment, nodding in salute to her. “If Olivia doesn’t contact you before the funeral, you should just go to her house. I think you both need to talk this through. Don’t worry so much about it, okay?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” I say. I get up from my desk and open the door.

Another hallway to walk into. I always think of her. No matter what, I’ll never forget her.

Olivia

I didn’t text him back. I sat in my room for days, just thinking about everything. I was trying to figure out what I really wanted in life. What are my plans? Where do I see myself in five years? Ten? I thought it about it all so much.

The truth is I thought I wanted to be free. I thought I wanted to be able to run away at a moment’s notice. But the reality of that is grimmer than expected. It means living a colder life, without that special someone by your side.

I am not disposable. I am not someone’s fake wife, or fake lover. I want to be someone’s somebody. I want to feel like I’m his treasure. Can he give me that? Will he always be able to give me that?

I’m still young, even though I sometimes feel older than I really am. It’s hard to know exactly where I’ll end up and when. As the days slip away, I still can’t stop myself from thinking about him. I leave my house and go on walks. I try to find the beauty in everything banal and normal.

I go to the bar by myself. Men walk up to me and ask if I want a drink, but I don’t want their company. When I look up at them, I see empty shells, trying their best to find something meaningful in a random encounter.

James didn’t take my innocence from me. He cradled me in his arms. He protected me. He promised me so much more. That’s the difference between these men and him. He’s the real deal, the full package. He’s successful, handsome, completely ripped, and he was mine. Keyword being was.

The last text I received from him was heartbreaking. It popped up on my phone after I went to sleep. I just missed it. It read: “Maybe I understand you now. I was the introduction to so much more. Maybe someday we’ll meet again, but I’m probably wrong. You’ll move away, find success elsewhere, and you’ll forget about me. You’ll think I forgot about you. But I won’t forget. I can’t forget. Forgetting you would be like forgetting what planet I’m on.” And then, later, he sent: “Mom passed the other day. The family is going through a lot. I’m not trying to put anything on you. I just wish you were near me. Whatever you decide, even if it is to cut me out completely, I’ll always love you, Olivia.”

Now, in this bar, I sit reading those texts, over and over again. My eyes skim the words like they’re a long-lost love letter. He always knew how to talk to me. He was always aware of how I felt. We joked a lot, we had a lot of sass between us, but there was a common bond.

I’m not ignoring him. It’s just that there was so much going on in my life that I decided I needed a break from everyone and everything. I had to cut all of the noise out. If I didn’t, I would have never figured out what I wanted out of this.

If I didn’t filter through the silence, I would have never discovered that I still love him, completely. I would have never forgiven him.

I kick the chair back and stand on my feet. “Keep the change,” I tell the bartender. I walk out of the bar and feel the warm summer breeze hit my face, just like it always did when I was out with him at night. I close my eyes and feel him close to me. It’s foolish not to keep him near me. He messed up, but I know he’d do anything for me. He’d even let me go if I needed him to, the bastard.

He’s smug. He’s charming. He’s one in a million. And I’m the bride of his dreams that he never got to have. But I’m coming back for him. This needs to be mended. And all good things repair with time.

James

The whole funeral is a mess. People are hysterical, running around to the nearest drink station, crying their eyes out. It’s not what mom would have wanted. She was a purist, in the most natural sense. She would have wanted me to take her ashes to the shore with Jenna. But Dad is a traditionalist. He’s got his set ways and I guess a person has to have a big blow out funeral, right?

Of course, Dad doesn’t know that I know the people at the crematorium and I got her ashes from a friend. Okay, that sounds creepier than it is.

“Nancy lived a full life…” the Priest drones on, the same guy who tried to marry Olivia and me.

“I know it’s wrong, but I keep looking at the exits, like I’m planning my escape,” Jenna whispers in my ear.

“I’m doing the same thing, sister. Can’t stand these things,” I whisper.

“Mom is rolling in her grave right now,” she says. “I think I’m leaving right after the ceremony. I can’t stick around for the food.”

“We have to meet with everyone,” I tell her. “It’s part of the thing.”

“The thing?” she asks.

“You know, the part where people tell you how sorry they are in order to make themselves feel good,” I whisper.

“Oh.” She smiles. “That thing. Right.”

My dad looks at us, horrified. “Stop, you two. This is your mother. Show some respect,” he says. We quiet down, eternally the same two kids he raised.

After the ceremony, we exit to the front. Everyone stands in line to grab the buffet style food, cooked to a half-perfection, while we wait off to the side, shaking hands and saying, “Thank you for coming.”

“I literally have no idea who any of these people are,” Jenna says. “And I don’t think Mom did either.”

“Yeah, it’s like any small acquaintance can attend your funeral. It’s kind of disheartening,” I say.

I glance in my pocket for the hundredth time and Jenna notices. “Why do you keep doing that?” she asks me. I keep checking my phone every two minutes.

“Nothing,” I say.

“Olivia?”

“She has to text me back. She has to. I don’t get it. How can you just ghost someone? I’m trying not to put any weight to it, but come on. Enough is enough,” I say.

“Haven’t you heard? Everyone ghosts each other nowadays,” she says.

“Yeah, well. That’s not Olivia. She’s attentive. She’s different,” I protest.

“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “I don’t mean to put salt into any wounds, James, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe she’s really over it. I thought it would be an easy thing to forgive. I mean, I don’t know… I’ve done worse to my husband.”

I’m not ready to throw my cards in and walk away. It’s not about losing. It’s about not getting what you came for. It’s about a promise hanging in front of you, yanked away by the hounds of love. I’ll keep chasing the chain if I have to. I’ll search to the ends of the fucking earth.

“You’re wrong,” I say.

“James,” she whispers. “Come on. It might be time to move on?”

She asks it in a question, as if I’m supposed to answer, saying, “Yes, of course I’ll move on. It’s what any man should do. Don’t mind the fact I’m still in love with her. That doesn’t matter one bit.”

The whole thing enrages me, so I walk out. Past the line of sorry people, past the giant, stained glass doors, I move outside to the back of the parking lot and sit on the hot cement. My sister is wise. She always knows what’s really going on. If she says Olivia wants to move on, I need to relax and let life happen.

It’s like the bullets won’t stop hitting me.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I instinctually reply to a familiar voice. My stomach clutches my organs. I shirk back and jump up. “Olivia?” I blink once or twice. It’s her. She’s standing in front of me. She’s swaying on the backs of her heels. I’m ready to grab her, to feel her soft body against mine, but I wait because I have no idea what she’s here for.

“I came to pay my respects,” she says. “I saw your text and looked up the funeral date in the newspaper. I hope it’s okay that I’m here. Sorry I’m late.”

A hummingbird flies by her ear, nearly whisking her hair up into the air. She pays no attention to it. I step forward in disbelief. “No, it’s fine. It’s, uh, really thoughtful that you came.”

“Should we go inside?” she asks.

I shrug and bite my tongue. “You know what? I’d rather stay out here for a bit,” I say. “Inside is a bit too much for me right now. You can go in if you want.”

She glances over at the door. She’s wearing a long, black dress. Even in her funeral attire, she looks like an angel. “No,” she whispers. “I think I’ll stay out here with you.”

“Okay.” I smile and place my hands in my pockets. “So, what have you been up to? Been busy?”

She looks away, past my left shoulder. Her eyes move toward mine, moving from side to side, analyzing my every emotion. She moves one step back, undecided. “No, not really. I’ve been around. I’ve been taking walks. Sometimes I go to the bar. I don’t know,” she says. “I just needed some time alone, I guess.”

“You’ve been going to the bars?” I ask her. “For what reason?”

“Why does it matter? You jealous?” She laughs and steps forward. We’re close, so fucking close. We’re only a foot apart. What’s stopping me from grabbing her and pulling her into my arms? Why am I so hesitant all of a sudden? I’ve never been like this in my life.

“Not jealous,” I reply. “Just curious.” Okay, I’m a little jealous. Whatever dickhead guy she’s meeting at the bar can fuck right off. It takes all of my strength to not freak out in front of her.

“Curious, huh. Interesting,” she says.

“What?” I laugh. “Don’t believe me?”

“Not really,” she says. “Not after those text messages.”

“Yeah, well,” I step forward an inch and pause. “That was then. This is now. I’m over it.”

“You’re over it? You don’t care that I go to the bar and meet with strange men? Men of all types and sizes,” she says. Her smile is devious. I know she’s just trying to fuck with me. She takes another step forward, about an inch. We’re so close to one another.

“It might make my blood boil a little bit,” I admit. “But I’ve promised my new girlfriend I’d take her out to dinner tonight. Oysters and caviar. You know, no big deal.”

“You’re an ass.” She slaps my arm.

I grab her hand, out of pure instinct. She opens her mouth wide. I’m not sure if she’s going to laugh loudly or yell at me, so before she does anything too drastic, I say, “I’m a huge ass.”

She laughs. Thank God, she laughs. I let go of her hand and let it fall. It brushes against my ribs, falls down to my hips. It catches my belt loops and stops. Her fingers intertwine through those loops and I feel the serotonin flooding through my brain. There it is. That feeling. Love. Of course, it’s accompanied by extreme thoughts of lust, but the love is there alright.

“Who’s the new girlfriend, huh?” she asks, twisting her tongue about in her mouth.

“You don’t know?” I ask.

“No, that’s why I’m asking,” she says.

“It’s you.” I smile and grab her waist. I pull her close to me. She doesn’t object. That’s when I know that she’s mine again. She won’t be leaving me. She’s back in my arms. Her lips are close to mine. I lower my head and she raises hers. Our lips crash together, exploding like fireworks in the sky. My body is pounding with extreme emotion. When I taste her, I remember what it’s like. It all comes flooding back.

I pull away and take a deep breath in. “It’s me?” she asks. “How come I wasn’t made aware of this?”

“Enough joking,” I tell her. “Olivia, I want you back. Are you going to be with me or not? Because I’m not going to wait around forever.” That’s a fucking lie. I’d wait until the sun burns out if it meant having her back.

“I don’t know, James.” She hesitates and tries to falter back, but I don’t let her. I keep her in my hands. She bites her lower lip. Come on, Olivia. I know what you want.

“Then you need to let me go,” I say. I let her move from my grasp. She doesn’t. She stands completely still. Instead, I back up and begin walking away from her. I move toward the front doors that lead into the funeral. I just keep walking.

“James!” she shouts. I stop, but don’t turn around. I’ve had enough of these games. “I can’t let you go, James. I just can’t.”

I turn around and look at her. Her body has hunched a little under duress. She gives an exhausted look. She is beautiful in every way. She will always be the most gorgeous woman on the planet.

“Then what are we doing?” I ask her, now ten feet away.

“I want to be with you,” she says. “And I want to trust you.”

“I know it’s hard,” I tell her. “But we have to trust each other. You’re the only girl for me, Olivia. I can’t stand being away from you. This was the worst week of my life, dammit. I need you here.”

“Then promise me you’re not going to pull any more weird shit on me. Promise that your dad isn’t going to rely on patriarchal expectations. I want to be with you, but you need to reassure me, James,” she says. “I want to feel special again.”

“Are you joking?” I laugh and walk back to her. I pull her in my arms. My thigh brushes against her, in between her legs. I’m so fucking hard I could fuck her in this parking lot. “I’ll worship you, woman. I’ll do whatever it takes. You know that? I promise that if you stay with me, it’ll be the best decision you’ve ever made.”

“Please don’t hurt me,” she whispers. “Love me.”

“I’ll love you forever,” I tell her. It’s the God’s honest truth. “Want to get out of here for a bit?”

She nods her head, but stops short. “Don’t you have to be in there?” she asks.

“You didn’t know my mom, but she hated funerals. If she was still alive, she’d be pushing my ass away from this parking lot with force. Trust me on that,” I say.

“Where will we go?” she asks me.

I shrug. “Your place? Or mine?”

The eternal question. “Yours,” she says. “I always liked it better at your place.”

I grab her hand, feeling the infinite beat of life rush inside of me. I have her back. God dammit, I got her back.

Olivia

Sometimes it’s hard to see the good when something bad disrupts everything. When I found out what James was planning, it was like a blade was tearing at the top layer of skin, around my heart. I was left speechless. Tears were ready to flood past my eyes. And then the anger came in.

There’s nothing I wanted more than to rectify things with James. Deep down, I never wanted to leave him, even if I uttered those exact words aloud. I just wanted to be understood, and I wanted him to know his wrongdoings. I wanted to be shown that something like that couldn’t happen again.

I’m still scared, but he’s trying his hardest and I know he’s retained the guilt from all of this. I never wanted that either. These things take time and now we’ve begun the healing process, for real.

Right now, we’re sitting in a field, near a large cliff. In the distance is the ocean and the calm waves misting the shore. We’re not saying much. We’re just enjoying the surroundings. I feel so… good. It’s like we’ve both been searching for peace and now we’ve finally got it. Together.

Above us is a solitary tree. It hangs over, protecting us from the sun. We drove forty-five minutes to get to this spot and, as James tells me, “I used to come here once a week as a kid. It was my place, you know? I never got the chance to show you.”

It’s beautiful, truly gorgeous. Underneath us is a blanket. We have an assortment of snacks and food, but we’ve barely eaten anything. He just lets me lay in his arms. He tickles my back with his rough, unshakable hands. When he squeezes my shoulders, he sends me into the shivers.

“You have the best hands in the world,” I tell him.

“I better. People’s lives rely on these things,” he says.

“Trust me. I know how good those hands are,” I tell him.

“Oh yeah?” he asks. His eyes shift downwards to the bottom of my light blue dress. His right hand lowers until he’s touching the center of my panties. “They’re great hands, huh.”

“The best.” I choke out the words in a whisper. I cough to clear my throat. I soak my panties and instantly get flashbacks of my first time. He pinches both lips and moves his fingers up and down. I moan lightly and try to keep my eyes from watering with pleasure. I feel like my body is about to explode, already even. It’s just been too long since we’ve fucked like animals.

When he looks back into my eyes, I see the hunger. I can feel it, it’s so palpable. His towering body moves over mine as I begin to lean back. “James,” I whisper. I reach out and grab his hip. His muscles jut out. Right now, I’d let him do anything to me. Anything.

He keeps squeezing my lips, rolling his knuckle over my clit. I grow wetter and wetter, completely enthralled by him. His left hand reaches out to my breasts. He cups each one in order, caressing his fingers around my nipples. They dart out, skin tightening. Goose bumps form around my body.

This is the man I’m going to be with for the rest of my life. I just know it. I’m going to get this treatment forever.

He smooths out my pussy with his palm. He takes the elastic band between his fingers and pulls my panties down to my thighs. I start dripping down my legs. Moistness is all around us. He moves his hand over it and spreads it around. His breathing gets heavier. “Olivia,” he moans, deeply.

My head darts upward at him. Our lips meet. Our tongues push past the barriers. We share each other’s air. My underwear hangs on the bottom of my thighs. I can feel the grass against the blanket below my ass. His hands are all over me, slipping inside and out. Wet. Everything is wet.

“Put that cock inside of me,” I say. He pulls back and smiles. There’s no need for any spit. I’m so wet he’ll probably cum instantly.

But it’s not as easy as expected. He attempts to slide his thick and throbbing member inside of me. Slowly, he thrusts in. “It’s too big,” I protest. He puts a finger to my lips. I bite it lightly and feel it enter my mouth.

“Shh,” he whispers.

I feel each inch push inside of me. His palm slides over my mouth, arm jutting out to the side, muscles hard as a rock. “Someday,” he says. “I want to make a baby with you. But I’ll wait as long as you need.”

I grow even wetter. I can’t say a word with his hand over my mouth. He just thrusts into me, hard, slow, and deep. I breathe steadily through my nose. He takes his other hand and pinches it. I nod with satisfaction. I want it rough. I want it dirty. I want to be his plaything forever.

He lets go and falls back, pulling my dress with him. I fall on top of him, laughing. I lower my head and kiss his neck, tongue extending onto his skin. He runs his fingers through my hair, positioning my bangs behind my ears. He rubs his thumb on my cheek, looking at me like I’m his one and only.

“I want a baby with you,” I say.

“When we’re ready,” he says. “I want you to live for a bit first.”

I sit on his cock like it’s my iron throne. I rock back and forth, and side to side. I gyrate my hips like its none of his business. I lose myself in him. When he places his wet thumb against my clit and rubs, my orgasm comes faster than expected.

“Don’t hold back,” he says. He places his other hand on my pelvis. He presses firmly against the skin, pushing upward. The hood around my clit retreats and he just keeps rubbing. I feel the palpitations come. My muscles contract, in and out. My pussy wraps firm and hard around his cock. I try to move back up and then back down, but I can barely even control myself.

I scream loud and frantically. I hold onto his abs and press down tightly. I grind forward and then back in rapid motions. He then grabs my waist and holds me steady. He thrusts upward as hard as he can. With his right hand, he grabs my head and forces me to look at him. My vision is a blurry mess. He kisses me and I pull back. “Holy fuck,” I manage to say.

“That’s right, kitten,” he whispers.

“You’re…” I stop myself from saying incredible. His ego is already too much.

“You’re incredible,” he says to me, taking the words right out of my mouth.

“Look at me,” I say.

“What?” He smiles.

“I said, look into my eyes when you cum. I want to see your eyes change as you explode,” I say.

His smile grows bigger. His hands tighten around my waist. He keeps thrusting, so powerful and absurdly hard. I reach down and hold his balls in my hand. They tighten as his cock grows. His muscles start to move erratically and a sharp sound exits from his mouth.

“That’s right,” I say. “Look at me. I love you.”

“I… love you,” he says, before moaning with obsessed pleasure.

I push my pussy down on him and hold him there. His balls keep tightening. His taint moves with irregular clicking. I start to feel his cum dripping from me, all around the sides of his shaft. I keep him there and smile when I see his pupils grow as big as the sun.

I lean forward and kiss him one last time, before stepping off of my ride. “You’re twisted,” he says, out of breath.

“That’s right.” I smile. “And now you’re stuck with me.”

“Thank God,” he whispers.

James

We lay in the same position for hours, pointing out the different shapes in the clouds. Every so often, we tell each other new stories about our life growing up. It’s almost as if we just discovered each other again. I’m finding new things out with every moment spent. Mostly, I just feel so content lying with her.

In the bag are my mother’s ashes. That’s part of the reason why we’re here. I used to come here a lot when I was younger, but I eventually stopped because of college and work. Jenna is meeting us in the next ten minutes or so. I called her over and she knows the drill. We’re meeting by the shoreline to throw them into the air and water.

The ocean has always been a healing place for me. I think everyone has that soft spot for it. At least, I couldn’t imagine not loving it here. The breeze itself puts you into a trance. Luckily, this is a spot that not many people know about. Right now, it’s just Olivia and I, spare a few runners every ten minutes or so.

“I don’t want to move away,” Olivia says.

“What?” I ask her. “Move? Who said anything about moving?”

“Me. I said I might want to move to Tokyo. I didn’t mean it. Not really, anyway. I think I want to stay here for a while. With you,” she says.

“I’ll do anything you need,” I tell her. “Just give me notice. I can transfer to another hospital. I don’t mind.”

“I don’t want you to do that. I want us to start this life together, but I want to be here. It’s close to both our families,” she says.

Right. Her parents. Shit. “Does your dad still hate me?” I ask her.

“Nah,” she sighs. “Just a weird time. I think they get it. Josie took the blame.”

In the distance, off the cliff, I see Jenna walk onto the sand. “There she is,” I point. “Come on.”

We grab our things and head down the beach stairs. When my feet hit the water, Olivia smiles brightly. “What’s up, Jenna?” I ask. “How you feeling?”

“You know what? Surprisingly good,” she says. “It’s like a weight has come off my shoulders. I’ve just been at home with my husband and kids. I don’t know. Everything just feels good again.”

“I love that,” Olivia says. “I feel the same way.”

I reach into my bag and pull out a coffee box. Inside are my mother’s ashes. “You ready?” I ask Jenna.

“Ready as I can be,” she says. There’s a pleasant smile on her face. Things are moving back to how they used to be. Finally.

“We can hold it together. Let’s walk down to the cliff over there.” I point to the other end of the beach, where the water is hitting a large rock, splashing high into the air.

“Oh, Mom loved that end of the beach, remember? She’d put her chair down and read all damn day sometimes,” she says.

“I remember. I’d get so bored sitting down there.” I laugh. “Come on. Let’s go.”

We walk in the hot sand, down to the rocks. Nothing feels heavy right now. Everything just feels right. I take Olivia’s hand in mine. There’s no ring to give… yet. I still have the one I picked out. But I’m waiting for the right moment this time. I’m not going to fuck this up.

When we get to the rocks, we climb up on the lower level.

I tell Jenna, “Okay, so grab the other end of this thing. We’ll toss it up together.”

She grabs the other end as I take off the lid. I hold the other side and begin counting. “On three. Ready?” She nods. “One. Two. Three!”

The ashes scatter over the darkness of the sea. Only, maybe I was wrong about everything. Maybe life isn’t so dark after all. Maybe the mystery is bathed in understanding. Maybe, just maybe, everything ends how it’s supposed to.

I jump back down from the rock. I grab my girl. “I love you,” I tell her. “I’ll never forget how much you mean to me. Never.”

Epilogue: Olivia

Seven years later…

Another day at the juice bar, another dollar. “I don’t know, Josie. If we want, we probably could open up another shop. It’s getting crazy over at the other two,” I tell her. “Yeah, people pay like ten bucks for a serving of juice. It’s kind of crazy.” Things have been booming at the new shops. I can’t even begin to describe the feeling of elation that brings us.

“You’re killing it,” she says. “Well, I have to run. Drew is almost home. I miss you and little Garrett so much. Oh, and I miss James. Duh.”

“I’m about to walk in too. They all miss you. You should come back and visit sometime soon. We’ve got another room. You could crash for the week if you wanted to,” I tell her. Josie moved away years ago, practically right after school ended. She went up to Portland and is loving it.

“You know I’ll be back soon. I love coming back and visiting everything. I miss it,” she says.

“Love you, babe,” I say.

“Love you.”

I struggle to find the keys in my purse for a second, but I manage to grab onto the right one and unlock the door. I hum a tune to myself, expecting the whole house to be open. Today is my birthday, but James is working and our son doesn’t come home for another hour.

I click up the light switch. It doesn’t go on. “Dammit,” I mutter to myself. I walk over to the blinds and just as I undo them, I hear a sharp rustling noise. “What the…”

I turn around and—“SURPRISE!” A whole kitchen full of people jumps out at me.

“James!” I scream. He’s laughing hysterically, while clapping his hands. Our son runs out and grabs me, hugging me. “Happy birthday, Mommy!” he says, proud.

“You scared me!” I playfully assert. “Thank you so much, baby.”

“I’m know you said no surprise party, but… I just had to. You know me,” James says. He’s holding a big chocolate cake in his hands and in the center is “30” lit up in flames.

“You’re right. I do know you.” I wink and blow out the single candle. “Thank you everyone. I wasn’t expecting this at all. I’m thoroughly surprised.”

“What did you wish for?” James asks.

“I can’t reveal that! It won’t come true,” I say.

Jenna comes out from the crowd, bearing a big gift. “Open this later,” she whispers. “It may or may not be a bunch of alcohol and marijuana.”

“Jenna, I love you,” I say. She giggles away.

Finally, James comes toward me. The old cabin is covered with silly string and balloons. Outside, the woods are bare, but starting to sprout leaves again. “Thank you,” I whisper.

“I missed you all day, every hour,” he says, kissing me.

“You always say that,” I tell him.

“That’s because it’s true,” he says.

“I feel all old now,” I tell him. “Surprise parties are for old people.

“You just turned thirty. You’re in your prime, baby. And I’m just so proud of you. Your business, how you handle Garrett, and then you come home and have to handle me. You’re amazing. You’re a dream,” he says.

I start to tear up because James is the absolute dream man. After we got married, I thought, “This is it. This is when he changes.” But he never did. Not once. After I got pregnant, I thought, “Okay. It’s been amazing so far, but something has to give eventually. We’re going to be stressed beyond belief now.” Yet, he became an even better man once Garrett was born. None of it makes sense. I managed to pick the right choice.

My parents come out from the back and raise a glass to me. “My baby girl,” my mom says, tearing up. “You’re such a woman.” My dad puts his arm around James and they shoot the shit for a couple of minutes.

“I never thought I’d be here,” I say aloud.

“What do you mean?” James asks. He takes a big drink of beer and sighs from the carbonation.

“I just mean… back when we first met. I never thought my parents would be cool with this. I never thought we’d actually get married. Garrett. All of this. It’s just so crazy to think back on,” I say.

“That’s life,” my dad says. Thanks for the lesson, Dad.

James’s eyebrows crease downward. “Wait a minute. Back up here. You never thought you’d actually get married to me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t start. I did marry you and have your child, so there’s that.” I roll my eyes and grab the beer from his hand. He playfully tries to grab it back and purposefully comes back empty handed. “You butthead,” I say, snickering at him.

“Alright, I’m getting some of that cake if you’re not,” my dad says.

“Bring it over!” I call out to him.

He grabs the cake and slowly brings it over on its platter. Setting it down on the table, he hands me the knife. “Want to do the honors?” he asks me.

“You know it,” I say.

The knife goes into the soft, fluffy goodness, sliding back out effortlessly. James gives me a plate. I dig into the cake and take a huge bite. “God, that’s some good cake,” I say.

“Hey, I have an idea,” James says. “Let’s take a mental picture of this moment. I want to remember this forever. These are the times that are most meaningful, right?”

“Yes, they are,” I whisper back.

We both close our eyes for a second, opening them when the memory is burned in enough. James grabs his beer and lifts it into the air. “I want to make a toast!” he yells. Everyone quiets down.

“To my beautiful angel of a wife, Olivia,” he says. Here, here! “And to family!”

Oh no. Not that family thing again…

Author’s Note:

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Walker

Another day, another woman on her knees pleasing me. That’s how I live my life. People want to judge me for what I do. I have two words for them: Piss off. I didn’t come all the way from England to be shat upon. No, I live my life to the fullest. That’s always how it’s been. I plan to conquer the world if I can.

Why is it that men are miffed by me? Is it because of my chiseled body? Or because every woman, at every party, looks my way when I’m in a room? Or is it because of my cold, hard cash, my financed Bentley, and my collection of fine Italian suits? Shit, mate. I think it’s a combination of all of those things. I’m the best there is. I’m every woman’s fantasy. And I give them the experience they’ve been waiting for.

All you have to do is call my number and I’ll be there. It’s that easy. I can talk in an American accent if you like. Or, if you prefer, I can speak in my native tongue. I know women love a foreign accent. It makes them cum while standing up.

This woman I’m with, for instance, she’s sucking my cock better than anyone I’ve ever been with before. It’s all because I cheers’d her at the party and told her friends some wild stories about London. That’s all it really takes.

Now, standing above her, she’s worshipping the ground I walk on. My cock is a fucking idol for her. She’s on her knees, mouth open, and her tongue is whispering prayers I’ve never heard before. “Dear lord.” I smile and run my hands through her thick, beautiful hair. She’s about thirty-five, I take it, but she’s pretty good looking nonetheless.

“I just want to please you,” she whispers, among her heavy breathing and sucking. Her hands wrap firmly around my balls and I feel myself about to unwind in her.

They all want to please a guy like me. I’m not a fucking loser. I’m the real deal. I’m everything she’s dreamed of, ever since she was a little girl. “What kind of man do you want?” Well, of course, the answer is Walker Hambell.

“I’m cumming, darling,” I whisper. My cock grows inside her mouth. I look at her pussy and it’s dripping across the red carpet of this fine hotel. I grab the bottle of champagne from the dresser next to me and take a giant swig.

And I cum like I’ve never cum before. She swallows it whole and smiles, kissing the tip of my hard cock. “Thank you,” she whispers, handing me a thousand dollars in cash. “Can you stay the night?”

“I really should be going,” I protest. But for another three grand, I’ll stay. Sure. It’s part of the job, anyway.

“I have a few hundred here for you,” she hesitates, looking in her purse. No doubt, this is her allowance given to her by her wretched husband. Now she’s gone and spent it all in one night.

I smile and act polite. “I’m sorry, doll. But I have another function.” She pouts on the bed, but I’m out of that room within seconds.

I’m not a guy that gets hung up on these women. I like my freedom. I like going home and playing with my toys. My money goes to me and me only and I’ve made a fucking kingdom with it.

Some call me names. I don’t like those terms. These women want an experience, plain and simple. I offer a service and I give it to them. It’s not even about the sex. Women are very different in this category.

No, for them, it’s about feeling loved. I’m damn good at that, I must say. Most of them are married. Most of them are older. And most of them want to feel that initial spark. You know, the thing that set them off on a different life path.

Men get to experience this kind of a thing all of the time. They go out, have a few drinks, and fool around with the nanny when they come home. They get to feel like they’re king of the world, once again. That’s how they felt when they met the mother of their children. I know how it is. That’s why I’m not fucking married. So, why can’t these women have a similar experience?

I’m your next boyfriend. For one night and the right price, I’m the one you’ll fall in love with. I’m the one you’ll tell your friends about, during girl talk, when the husbands are out golfing. I’m the one who will change your life. I’m the one you’ll be dreaming of. And I’ll sure as shit break your heart.

I’m Walker Hambell. Any questions?

Erica

“God dammit, Darrin!” I scream, placing my hands across my eyes and the top of my head. I feel erratic. I feel betrayed. I’m lost, now more than ever. “How could you?”

“It’s not what you think, Erica,” he says, calmly. “Look, you can’t think straight right now. You’re getting your information from the wrong source. I mean, come on. Wanda? She’s the queen of gossip!”

“You’re not going to do this to me this time. It’s not just Wanda telling me you’ve been sleeping around. Are you kidding me? It’s the whole damn neighborhood!” I know I shouldn’t yell. I know he’ll only use that against me right now. He’ll claim that I’m erratic and crazy. He’ll disregard the real emotions he’s causing me to feel. He cheated on me. This is the third time. How could I be so stupid?

“You need to calm down,” he says. I fall back on the bed, feeling completely hopeless. This is a battle I can’t win, but I can’t stay here to fight it out. I’m not going to be like those other women. I’m not going to stay with his lying, manipulative, sagging ass.

“It’s over, Darrin. I’m done,” I say. I even laugh a little because the whole situation feels so crazy. “Seriously, I’m done.”

“Oh, bullshit,” he laughs. “We have a house together. Two cars. We’ve built a life together, Erica. You can’t just throw that away because of one rumor. Think of all the memories.”

“Fuck the memories,” I groan. “Take the house and cars. I don’t give a shit. Take it all. Just give me enough to start a new life for myself. I can’t be with you anymore.”

“Erica, don’t talk like this,” he says, voice turning a calmer tone. “Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll go to sleep and we’ll discuss this in the morning, over coffee. We’ll go to your favorite restaurant. What was it called again?”

“You don’t even remember the name of my favorite restaurant, Darrin. This is so fucking hopeless,” I say. “For once, please, just give me what I ask for. For once.”

It’s not in a man’s bones to give you what you want. For me, it’s been a constant struggle for my own independence. Classic story, right? This time, however, is different. I’m going to do whatever the hell I want. It’s Erica’s time. I’m not going to let him waste my life. I’m only thirty-two years old.

“Go to sleep,” he tells me. “I’ll discuss this in the morning.”

He turns off the lights and gets out of his clothes. I look at his body and I just turn livid. Yet, I’m silent. I’m not going to let him use my emotions against me. Not anymore. No longer will I be his scapegoat. I go to sleep, but not without knowing that tomorrow I won’t be going into work. I won’t be staying home and chatting with my soon-to-be ex-husband about his multiple affairs. I won’t be forgiving. Tomorrow, I’ll be planning my escape.

The sun breaks in through the blinds and Darrin has a cup of coffee and plate of eggs waiting for me. He’s standing with a smile on his face, holding the food. “I’m not hungry,” I say. I stretch and stumble out of bed. I get in the shower, while he just stands there, looking sad and stupid.

“You’re not going to eat? I made this for you,” he says.

“Yeah, well. I’m proud of you, Darrin. You’re really turning yourself around,” I laugh slightly. The truth is, I sort of feel bad for the guy. We’ve been married for five years and I did love him at one point. Now, I feel like an old roommate. It’s the kind of feeling you have in college, when you realize your old friends just aren’t on the same wavelength as you anymore. It’s sad. It’s heartbreaking. At the same time, it’s life. Sometimes you just have to move on from what is hurting you.

“You can be such a bitch,” he mutters, eating the eggs himself. He shakes his head angrily and walks out of the room.

Great. I’m such a bitch. It feels wonderful to be called that by the guy who loves you. Yeah, this is finished. It’s solidified in my head now.

Cut to the thirty minutes later and I’m wearing the nicest dress I can find, lipstick to die for, and a push-up bra that does wonders for my tits. I look damn good, and I want the world to know too. Darrin, of course, shoots a double take at me, but remains silent.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

“Out,” I say. “I’m meeting Renata at the Biltmore, at noon. Then, who knows? Maybe I’ll go to a movie.”

“You have work,” he says, dumbfounded. He takes a bite of toast and sets it down, getting crumbs all over his freshly dry-cleaned suit. “Dammit,” he sighs.

“I’m not feeling well today. I called out,” I lie. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter what you think. I’m doing what I feel like. Isn’t that what you did when you stuck your little dick in that woman?”

He turns red and silent again. There’s no rebuttal, just pure anger. I grab his toast and take a bite. I walk out into the spring air and it feels good. The cold is finally starting to break. It feels like change.

I glance back before shutting the door. “Have a good day,” I say, meaning it. There might be malice, but at the end of the day, I don’t hate the man. I just want to live a separate life. Thank God, we don’t have any kids…

A ten minute drive and a few cigarettes at the stop light, I’m blasting the top 40’s and I’m singing loud. I never do this because I can’t sing worth a damn. Today is different. I’ve got an hour and a half to spare and I want to feel something real for once.

The song’s long crescendo extends out into a synthesizer-fueled pop hit. I know this one. It’s just about to go into a heavy “drop,” straight into the smashing chorus, when… Smack!

…a fucking car smashes into the back of my bumper. I hear it crunch, like a bag of potato chips. Only, this is metal and this will cost thousands of dollars. I get out of my once-polished Corolla and glance at the damage.

“Oh, no,” I sigh. “Fuck.” Darrin is going to kill me. Not only that, but this gives him a leg up in the argument right now.

It doesn’t look good. The whole bumper is just hanging off the back end. When I drive away, it’ll drag across the street. It would be comical if it wasn’t me who’s going through this.

“Are you alright?” I hear a deep voice ask me. I feel the touch of a heavy hand against my forearm. “Miss?” There’s a slight accent to his voice, but it’s not heavy. British. I look to my left and recoil when I realize this guy just ruined my car and gave my husband a leg up on me.

“You hit me!” I blurt out the obvious. “I can’t believe you hit my car.”

“I’m really sorry,” he says. I get a better look at him. He’s hot. No, he’s perfectly chiseled, like an old painting. No, like James Dean. Oh, he’s better than James Dean, dammit. He’s wearing a blue button down and it’s barely even buttoned. His chest and abs peek out from the center and I cannot stop staring. Quickly, I remove my ring and put it in my pocket.

“I’ll pay, obviously,” he says. “I’m kind of a moron today. I haven’t been thinking straight.”

“I, uh,” I start stuttering. I can’t form any damn sentences. What the hell is wrong with me? He’s just a man. He’s just a smoking hot, hunk of a man, who’s perfect in every damn way. Okay, I’ve got to get myself together!

“You’re in shock. I’ve really done myself in this time, haven’t I?” he smiles and I nearly faint. His smile is so cute, yet there’s a dark side to it. He looks like he might turn on you at any second, like he’ll pick you up, throw you around, and fuck the life out of you. It’s exactly what Darrin doesn’t do for me.

“No, you’re fine.” I smile. I shake myself out of my lustful behavior. “But it’s pretty bad. I’m going to have to replace the whole bumper.”

“An easy fix, no doubt,” he says. I look at his car. It’s a Bentley, or one of those Rolls Royce. I really don’t know my cars, but it’s obvious he has some extra money. “Don’t worry. I’ll pay for everything. Every little scratch. How do you want to do this? I’d rather not call the police.”

“No, I guess we shouldn’t. My insurance doesn’t need any extra ticks,” I sigh. “I don’t know. How can I get ahold of you?”

“I have a business card,” he smiles and reaches into his wallet. “It’s my direct number. It has my address on it too, in case you’re worried I’ll skip out on paying you back.”

He hands me his card. It reads: THE BOYFRIEND EXPERIENCE: WALKER HAMBELL. I don’t question him about it, but it seems a bit weird. The boyfriend experience? Is that some sort of music project? “I’ll call you,” I say, staring at the card with a slight curiosity.

“Please do,” he says. “Call me tomorrow if you’d like. I’m expecting a paycheck and I’m free all day.”

“Will do,” I smile.

“Well, goodbye,” he says. We’re standing so close that I can smell his cologne. I can feel the warmth from his body. I gulp down awkwardly and try to breathe without rushing it. There is a split second when I start to wonder if we’re going to start making out passionately in the middle of the intersection.

“Hey lady! Get out of the fucking road!” someone yells as they angrily speed around us.

“Oh,” I hesitate and realize this Walker guy is already walking back to his car. I turn around and get in mine, starting my engine. I finish the drive, but I don’t get out of the car just yet. Renata can wait.

I feel… horny as fuck. It’s crazy to even say that. Me, a married woman. But Darrin treats me like shit and it’s just about to be over. That man. Walker Hambell. I look at his card again and feel my heart start to pound.

The boyfriend experience? This is something I both want to know about and stay away from. It’s only when I lift up the center of my dress that I realize my panties are soaking wet. Dear lord.

Walker

I watch carefully as she gets into her car. The bottom of her dress caresses her wide hips, balancing just right as her ass rocks back and forth. I gulp down hard, feeling the click at the back of my throat. What do I want from her? I want to dive under that dress. I want her to sit on my fucking face. I want to pound that sweet pussy into submission. There are quick images in my mind of my hand around her tits, throat, gripping her ass. God, there’s so much I want to do to that woman.

Funny enough, none of this was planned. It’s just the way things worked out. I went to change the bloody song on the radio and, boom, her bumper is completely destroyed. It’s rather funny actually. My car has barely a scratch.

I drive to my next client’s house and park near her driveway. I glance in the mirror to make sure everything looks right. First, the hair. Next, the shirt. Lastly, the teeth.

Everything has to look perfect for these women. Tonight should be easy, however. I’ve been out with this woman before. No sex demanded. Just some woman who lost her husband the year prior. I never pry too much into their past. I don’t care to, really. For me, it’s just about the money. I don’t need to know or do anything extra.

I walk up to the door, but I can’t get myself to ring the doorbell. That woman I hit earlier. She’s invading my fucking mind. Now, I can’t get her out of my head. She must’ve been twenty-eight or so. Clearly, she was married. I saw her remove her ring with haste. She wants me. That much is obvious. The question is, will she call? The good ones never do. I’m always stuck with the crazy clientele. God, and I handed her my card. The whole thing is embarrassing.

“Walker, dear! So glad you could make it.” Loretta Dawkins, my date tonight, smiles. She’s wearing her classic pearl necklace, an obvious sexual innuendo.

“Darling Dawkins,” I smile. “I’ve missed you, baby.”

The things I have to say. It’s beginning to gnaw it me. This job can be too much at times. I want to go home. I want to step into the shower. I want stroke my thick cock and think about what that woman would look like with her mouth wide open. I want to see what she’d look like bent down, thighs out to the side, while her ass is square to the ground. I have the perfect fucking image in my head. I feel my cock twitch against the front of my pants.

“Oh, I’ve missed you so much,” Loretta says. She’s forty-five. Not old, but not young either. In either case, she’s not my type.

Anyway, the details aren’t important with this woman. She invites me in, pours me a few drinks, and asks me if I’m ready to go. I am in fact ready to leave. The party tonight is a friend of a friend of a friend of hers. She claims, “Our husbands were good friends of one another.” But I can already tell she’s nervous by the way she’s drinking.

In fact, when we finally do leave, she’s shoveled down three vodka tonics and she’s slurring half of her words. Three thousand dollars. That’s how much I’m getting for this. It’s not bad for about eight hours. At least, that’s what I’m hoping for. That, or even less.

We pull into the Grand Hotel and I give the valet my keys. I hold the door open like a gentleman and reminisce about London with her for a bit. These are the parts of the job I tend to enjoy because it’s fun to make up stories. The truth of my life is that I grew up very poor in London. There were no weekend trips up north to go hunting with the hounds. Nor were there any galas with the Prince.

No, my life has been rife with twists and turns that would ruin any woman’s night. I grew up hard, as they say in America. I grew up on the fucking streets. My father ran out on my mum almost five months into the pregnancy. I never met the bastard. My mother? Well, she was just scraping by on crumbs. I vowed never to live like either of them. I promised myself I would live a free and carefree life, in America, the land of opportunities.

The party is fairly big, with over two hundred guests. How a woman has that many friends is beyond me, but I lavish in the free caviar, mussels, and wine. “Open wide!” Loretta exclaims, before stuffing in a square of cheese.

“You’re spoiling me. Really.” I smile and kiss her cheek.

“Oh, how I love to spoil you,” she laughs. “Come, I want you to meet some people.”

She’s much older than most of the guests. I scan the room, hoping to meet some influential people. Someday, I always think, I’ll get out of this business and enter politics. Anyway, it’s the same job when you think about it. Going out with people you don’t really enjoy, laughing at awkward jokes at parties, and falling asleep with the knowledge that you’ll always get what you want.

I bask in the thought a little. I mean, everyone has to have a dream. Just when I smile, do I see her. It’s that woman from the intersection. The woman of my fucking dreams. She sees me out of the corner of her eyes and quickly avoids eye contact. “What the fuck?” I whisper. Why is she being so cold?

“What was that?” Loretta asks. We’ve now entered the social center of Loretta’s life. The table is a few older women, sitting around, laughing about their husbands. Oh, how silly their husbands all are. How stupid they all are. I’ve heard it a million times and frankly, I’m tuning the conversation out.

I can’t stop staring. I don’t give a damn how crazy I look. After a few minutes, her eyes start to dart in my direction. At first, she tries to play it cool. Then, she can’t stop looking over. She blushes, but then her expression turns to annoyance. Honestly, I’m only staring at one thing: that body of hers.

My cock is already hard. I can’t help it. I keep wondering how her skin would feel against my palm and thighs as I’m pumping her, or how her tits might look. It’s the minor details that make a real difference to me. I look at the curve of her thighs. She’s wearing one of those black dresses that cut alongside the legs. Her bottom half drives me fucking wild. How can I man look away from something that sexy?

The woman finally gets fed up. Or, at least I think she does. She grabs her purse and walks into the women’s restroom. “I have to use the men’s room,” I announce all of a sudden, darting from my seat.

“Well, hurry. I want another drink,” Loretta says. “And we all want to hear about your hunting trips growing up.”

“Of course,” I smile. The hunting stories. Always a good one. I walk fast toward the restrooms. I shouldn’t act so crazy, but I’m not worried tonight. Tonight, I have my eyes on this woman and I am not taking no for an answer.

I walk right in, following her. Lucky for me, no one is inside, spare for her, analyzing her makeup in the mirror. I quickly lock the door and she jumps. “What the hell are you doing?!” she exclaims. “Unlock that door, now!”

“Hear me out,” I smile.

“Unlock the door!” she hisses, but reveals a hidden smile. She’s not angry with me. She wants me to be in here with her. I walk toward her. Two steps forward. She takes one step back. It goes on like this for another few seconds, until she stops and we’re left, closer than we were in that intersection.

“What do you want?” she whispers, voice shaky and cute.

“You,” I say. I’m blunt and quick to the point. There’s no time to beat around the bush. I want her. Now. In this bathroom.

“Well, I don’t want anything to do with you,” she says.

She’s lying, I think. I touch the back of her arm. She pulls away, turning red. I put my hand around her waist and she’s looking at me as if I’m out of my fucking mind.

“Stop,” she barely whispers. She smells like chocolate and red wine has stained her lips and tongue.

“You going to call me?” I ask her.

“Maybe,” she says. “I’m married, you know.”

“I know,” I smile. “You think I give a damn?”

“Well, you should. Adultery is a sin,” she says. I have to laugh at that one.

“You’re religious all of a sudden?” I ask.

“No,” she admits. “I just think it’s wrong.”

“Sometimes being wrong is the right choice,” I say. “You don’t like feeling naughty?”

She gulps down and bats her eyes quickly. “I,” she stutters. “Um. I—”

“Shh.” I put my index finger against her lips. I don’t remove it. I kiss her, crushing my lips against my finger, the one barrier keeping our tongues from intertwining. She breathes in hard and deep. I want to feel her cunt. I want to reach out and touch that sweet pussy of hers. I want to see how wet I get her.

She steps back, eyes wide. “I,” she stutters again. I smile and lean against the counter of the bathroom. “I need to go.”

“I’d love it if you call me,” I say.

She ducks her head forward and unlocks the bathroom door. She darts out as a few confused women step in, to find me.

“Sorry, ladies. Stumbled into the wrong bathroom,” I chuckle. Yep. It’s just another day on the job.

Erica

I’m soaking wet. Like, drenched. I feel underneath my dress as I sit back down at the table with Renata. My fingers come back dripping, warm. Fuck me. Why did I run away? Why on earth did I tell him I was married? I’m not ready for anything else. I don’t want to be with Darrin, but I definitely don’t want to start sleeping around just yet. I haven’t even packed my things.

This is so wrong. You don’t like feeling naughty? His words echo in my ears. What if he was to reach out and touch me? How would I react? Would I like it? Of course I would. I’d want him to go further. I’d want him to pick me up and set me on that bathroom counter. I’d want him to fall to his knees and eat my pussy. And then, after he’s pleased me, I’d want him to stuff his cock down my throat. Okay, maybe I’m going too far with this. I need to chill, seriously.

“Where have you been?” Renata whispers at me. “You’ve been gone for almost fifteen minutes.”

“I didn’t know I had to check in with you every time I went to the bathroom,” I laugh.

“Sorry. You don’t. It’s just that I’ve been stuck with these women for the past twenty minutes and then you left me, and it’s been truly awful,” she says. “We need to plan our escape. Are you ready to leave?”

“I don’t know,” I mumble, looking over at Walker. He glances over at me too, over and over again. His smile gives me shivers. And when I look at his body, I can’t help but imagine all the things he could do to me with his strength. “Why the hell is he with that woman?” I ask aloud.

“Excuse me?” Renata asks. “Who are you talking about? Who is he?”

I awkwardly point with my eyes. “That guy,” I say. “He broke my fender today. Crashed into me.”

“That guy crashed into you?” she asks. “My God, he’s—”

“Perfect,” I whisper.

“He’s hot as hell,” she smiles. “You have to introduce me.”

“Um, no,” I laugh. “He’s a prick. You don’t want to meet him.”

“Erica, please. I need this. I haven’t been on a date in, well, six months,” she says, practically begging. “Just put in a good word?”

How do I tell her that it’s me he wants? “Maybe,” I say. “I really don’t want to have to speak with him again.”

She ponders this over, clearly hurt I won’t help her. After a few seconds she nods to herself and laughs. “Wow, Erica. You like this guy, don’t you?”

“Trust me.” I give a hearty laugh. “I do not like that guy.”

“Bullshit! You like him. You want to fuck him. You want him to pound your tight little pussy,” she taunts me.

I roll my eyes. “Gross. Real ladylike, Ren.”

“I’m just messing with you,” she says. “Anyway, it’s not like you can do anything. You’re a married woman.”

I sigh. I groan. I rub my temples with my fingers. “Not for long,” I admit.

She frowns. “Oh, you’re just going through a slight hiccup. Every woman goes through this. It’s part of marriage,” she says.

“Three different women in five years? That’s part of being married?” I groan even louder and the other women at the table look at me as if I should leave.

Renata just shrugs. “You’re really willing to go through all the court drama just to have this one guy bang you? Darrin cheated on you. Cheat on him. It’s only fair.”

“I don’t think you get it,” I say. “I don’t want to cheat on him. I don’t even want to see him again. Honestly, I’m done. I’ve totally checked out. I’m getting out while I’m still young enough and kid-free.”

Renata huffs. “You’re such a bitch, you know that?”

“So I’ve heard,” I laugh.

“It’s not fair,” she goes on. “I want him too, you know.”

I smile to myself, watching him stare at my body out of the corner of his eyes. The boyfriend experience. The older woman next to him. The smiling and laughing, and telling stories. I think I get it.

I walk over to his table and whisper. “I want to make a trade, Walker.” He looks over at his date for the night. She’s busy talking with her friends, clearly wasted.

“A trade?” he rubs his chin.

“Yes. A trade,” I smile. “You crashed into me earlier. How about we call it even. I want the experience. Whatever it is, I want it. That’s my offer. Anyway, think it over. I’ll be calling you.”

Walker

Why the hell did she have to say she wanted the experience? She’s better than that. She doesn’t need to trade with me. The experience is for women who need it. That woman… she doesn’t need it. She deserves better.

I won’t do it, I decide. I’ll only see her if she really wants to see me. This isn’t a job. This isn’t negotiable. I want her, but not as a fucking commodity.

I’m not going to sit back and wait on her, though. She’s tempting, but that’s about it. I’ve been out with every woman there is. Every type, every body shape, and practically every age all the way down to twenty. I have to ask myself, “Is she really that special?” Well, the answer I get to is “probably not.”

Still, when I wake up, I’m thick and hard. I roll over and laugh at myself. No woman to fuck and I’m the prime cut of this city. I walk to my shower and turn it on, waiting for the water to heat up. I’m horny as fuck. Remembering how she looked at the party turns me on to no end. I should have bent her over in that bathroom. I should have made her understand just what kind of a man I really am.

I should have given her a taste of heaven, handed her her wildest dreams, and made her fucking toes curl.

I spit down against my cock. My body feels strong and young. Even at twenty-eight, I haven’t started aging. I take pride in how I look and feel. Yet, that woman barely even recognizes what kind of a prize I am.

I run my hands down and feel the hot water drip down my body. I imagine picking her up in front of me. I see and feel her legs wrap around my neck as her back is pressed hard against the wall. I can taste her as my tongue slides against every single fold. She tastes sweet in this fantasy of mine, but part of me wonders if it’s more like chocolate, like the way she smells.

I start stroking my cock faster, imagining her now, on her knees, spreading her cheeks apart. I love a woman who knows how to treat a man. I can imagine how kinky she gets, begging me to spank her creamy ass. I wonder how deep she likes it. Can she take every inch of me? Can she take a little choking? Will she press my hands down further?

I want to dive in her tits. I want her nipples to drag across my face, until they land perfectly in my mouth, for me to suck on. I want to worship that body of hers, to fall on my knees while she rides me close, whispering, “Cum inside me.”

I stroke faster and faster, wrapping my hand around my shaft. My head is slick and growing. I’m going to fucking cum. I nearly lose my balance as I shoot my load down the drain. Such a fucking waste. When it’s over, I’m left feeling empty. There’s no one to kiss. There’s no one to drink with or talk to. It’s just my empty fucking house. And me. How boring.

I go about my day, which consists of me getting drunk on the finest champagne. Ultimately, it gives me nothing. I have over a handful of calls, but I don’t answer any of the numbers I know. I’m waiting for one in particular, but she’s not calling today.

I wait until nightfall to realize that I’m shit out of luck. She’s playing the game harder than any woman I’ve met before. Does she not care about my charm? Didn’t she see those women laughing at my jokes, enamored with every story I told?

I get one phone call from an unknown number and I answer it. “Walker?” a deep voice asks into the receiver. It’s a man’s voice and I recognize it immediately. Hawkins.

“Hawk?” I ask. “Is that you?”

“I knew I’d find you sooner or later. You’ve been running from us for years,” he says. I can picture the ugly smile on his face, the scar that runs down the front, and the eerie hunch in his back as he tries to stand on his own two feet.

“It’s not like I’ve been trying to evade you,” I say.

“On the contrary,” he laughs. “You’ve done a real bang up job doing so. Tell me, how many years has it been?”

“Eight years,” I say. “How’d you find me?”

“Are you really that impressed? You know how we run things. You know we run a tight ship over here,” he says. The bastard’s got me. “Don’t worry. I don’t want anything from you. I’m just… catching up.”

“Catching up,” I repeat. I can’t laugh. Hawkins is the guy who got me started in this business. His agency is the reason why I’m over here, but I fled once I got a good return.

“You should have changed your name,” he laughs again. “It’s almost as if you’ve been waiting for me. How much have you been making over there, anyway?”

“Pennies on the dollar,” I lie. “And I did change my name. On the leases anyway.”

“Stop worrying. This is just a friend trying to catch up with another old friend. I’m proud of you, Walker,” he says.

“Thanks,” I mutter. My heart starts pounding. Will I have to leave this place? Will I have to squander everything I’ve fought so hard to achieve?

“I’ll let you go. I know how busy you are,” he says.

“Talk to you soon,” I say, knowing he’s going to be around, sooner or later.

“Perhaps. Or not, you never know with these things, do you?” There’s a sudden pause because I have really nothing to say. I owe him for more money than he’s letting on and he can sense my sudden fear, although I’m not running anytime soon.

“I guess not,” I simply say.

“Goodbye, Walker,” he hangs up the phone.

Erica

When I get home from the party, the house is dark and feels more foreign to me than ever. I tip-toe into the living room, to pour myself a small glass of wine, so I can fall asleep. Tonight, I won’t be sleeping in the same bed as Darrin. This is something I still have to get used to.

When I grab the right wine bottle, I hear him. “You didn’t tell me you’d be going out tonight,” he says. I jump in a panic, nearly dropping the bottle of wine onto the white carpet.

“Darrin!” I exclaim. “What the fuck are you doing?”

He’s sitting in his lazy-boy chair, drinking a glass of something unclear. He smiles and crosses his legs. “Where did you go tonight? Who are you seeing, Erica?” he asks. I can tell he’s been waiting up for a long time. It’s nearly 1A.M.

“None of your business.” I resume my task of pouring myself a glass of wine. I take a small drink, tasting the bitter fruit against the top of my mouth. I never really enjoyed wine, but it has always made me feel better in times of need.

“God dammit. Can’t you tell me anything?” He’s more frustrated than angry. I don’t want to hurt him. I never did. But he’s not listening to me. He can’t seem to comprehend why this is over and done with.

“This isn’t how love is supposed to be, Darrin. You’re not supposed to have sex with other women while your wife is at home, sick with the goddamn flu.”

“That was one time!” he yells, throwing his glass at the wall. It shatters in a dramatic effect, leaving my heart racing. I back up and he sees what he’s done, almost instantly. He sits back down and takes a deep breath. My arms are up, acting as a guard.

“One time,” he repeats. “And it was a mistake. The other times were even more stupid. I… I have a problem, Erica. Can’t you understand that? Don’t you have any empathy?”

“Putting your dick into unknown vaginas is not a problem. It’s not an addiction. It’s not a disease, Darrin! It’s a choice you continue to make. If you were doing this every night, I might come with you to a facility. I might even empathize with you,” I say. “But now, I can’t even look you in the eyes. This is over. I’m not seeing anyone, but I’d sure as hell would like to.”

He ignores just about everything I say. The situation I’m in is hopeless, an endless echo chamber. Whatever I say will be heard, stored, and disregarded as false. Only I will understand the words I say. Even my friends tell me to suck it up. “This is a man’s world,” I’m basically told. Men cheat. Get used to it. Well, I’m not accepting that. I’m on the way to finding something better.

“I gave you everything,” he says through his teeth. “Everything! Remember who put in a good word at your ad agency? Remember who put in the down payment to this house? And that dress you’re wearing. Jesus Christ, I was the one who gave you that, last Christmas. I was the one that offered you hope. I was the man of your dreams.”

For a second, I expect tears, but nothing comes. He’s gone from feeling frustrated, to feeling anger. The glass shards sit across the floor. What I can now tell by scent is whiskey has stained the carpet of his house. He’s right, after all. He put in the down payment. Everything is in his name. His car, his house, and my wardrobe. If he could legally own me, he’d probably already have done it. Hell, our prenuptial agreement is looking pretty damn good for him at this point.

He may own everything, but there’s one thing he doesn’t understand. I do not care anymore. None of these things matter as much as my ability to make my own decisions. “I’m sorry, Darrin. It’s not that I don’t love you in a certain way,” I begin. “I just can’t live this lie of a life anymore. I want more. I want better things. Shit, I want to go back to school. Remember when you said it would be a waste? It’s always been a dream of mine to get my masters.”

“Then go back to school. What do I care?” He stands up from his chair, thinking he’s found his leg up on me. I down the glass of wine and set it down on the mini bar. “Let’s fix this, baby. Let’s build a new life. You can get your masters. I believe in you.”

“Yeah?” I ask him. I drop to the floor and lay down near the spilt liquid. “Well, I don’t believe in this. I can’t believe in this.”

* * *

I wake up in a haze and I’m still across the floor. The whiskey has dried up and the glass fragments are still in the carpet. I’m starting to realize who I am and what I can be, but there are some things I still find hard to unlearn. I grab a small hand vacuum and suck up the glass. I pick up one large piece and it cuts my finger. A small droplet of blood falls onto the carpet.

“Shit!” I hiss, sucking on the edge of my finger. I almost break down and start to cry, but I’m stronger than that. I simply hold my breath until the pain goes away. It’s just another day. I have to keep telling myself that.

I’m late for work and have at least five missed calls from my boss at the ad agency. “You need to go in,” I tell myself. I look at the keys on the table. No doubt, Darrin has seen the damage to his car, but he hasn’t mentioned anything. In fact, he has already left for work. Either that, or he’s gone over to that bimbo’s house.

I pull out the card from my purse. The Boyfriend Experience. Walker Hambell. I can’t do it. I can’t call him. It wouldn’t be right. There are fantasies and there are realities. Walker is just a fantasy that went too far. He’s a male escort, for Christ’s sake. That’s what they call them, right? A prostitute? He’s clearly bad news, despite his charm and good looks. We kissed. I need to leave it at that. I toss the card into the trashcan and hope to God I never see him again.

Renata calls me several hours later. “Hey, you busy tonight?” she asks me.

“I’m wide open,” I laugh.

“Really? I thought for sure you’d be stuck with work assignments all night. Is everything alright?” she asks.

“I’ll talk to you about it tonight,” I sigh. “Everything is… well, it’s interesting, at least.”

The hours pass and I somehow find myself cleaning the whole damn house. My instincts are shit right now. I should be packing my things, not washing his underwear. But deep down inside, he’s got me trained to satisfy all his needs and he knows it. That’s why he thinks this whole thing will blow over. With time, persistence, and a lot of patience, a man can surely get his way.

But the women in a man’s life hold the key to true power. I know it.

When the sun sets, I meet up at Renata’s house. It’s a small place, connected to a side house, which she rents out for extra cash. I don’t know why, but I used to pity her. I used to think it was so sad that she had to work so hard just to scrape by. Now, it’s obvious how free she really is. She answers to no one but herself.

“What’s wrong, girl?” she asks me. She’s got a bottle of wine sitting on the table, but I refuse to drink anymore, for at least a few nights.

“It’s Darrin. He won’t let up. Last night, when I got home, he got angry,” I say. “He threw a glass at the wall, Ren. It was terrifying.”

“Jesus,” she mutters. “He actually threw something at you?”

“Well, it wasn’t at me, but it was pretty damn close,” I say, reliving the whole experience. I start to shake, so I close my eyes to feel grounded again.

“Bastard,” she whispers to herself. “So it’s really over, huh? Like, you can’t accept this crap, Erica.”

“I thought you said all men do this kind of stuff?” I smile a little. “One night ago you were telling me to take it easy, acting as if everything was fine and dandy.”

“Well, you clearly shouldn’t listen to me. Look at where I am,” she laughs, awkwardly, to herself.

“You’re in a better position than I’m in, Ren. Don’t put yourself down like that,” I say. “Besides, I haven’t gone into work in the past two days. I’m pretty sure that ship is sailing.”

“Wow, this is really serious,” she mutters. “Erica, you can’t just brush everything aside. When you do finally divorce his ass, you need to be prepared.”

I shrug. “I know, I know. I just…” I stop myself from going into panic-mode. “Look, to be honest, I can’t stop thinking about that guy at the party.”

“Oh, jeeze,” she laughs. “The guy with the rock hard body? Um, yes please. Tell me that you called him already.”

“I threw away his number.” I don’t tell her about the card, about what he specializes in.

“You didn’t!” she cries. “Erica, you idiot! I would have called him.”

“You don’t understand,” I laugh. “I can’t call him. I think he’s bad news. Like, he’s a real player.”

“And?” Her eyes go wide and buggy with confusion. “That’s like the perfect combination. Do you know how well he probably fucks? He’s a perfect rebound situation.”

“Ew. Rebound.” I sigh and put my palms to my face with exhaustion. “That’s the last thing I want right now. Besides, I can’t stoop to Darrin’s level, can I?” I peer through my fingers, waiting for her to answer me with some sort of sagely advice.

“Girl, he cheated on you with three different women,” she smiles. “Why are you the one feeling guilty about things? You told him you wanted out. He’s not listening to you. If you ask me, his feelings are not your problem anymore. Plus, how do you know he’s done doing the dirty?”

“That’s just it.” I frown. “I don’t know. For all I know, he could be on his lunch break, getting head from that…” I stop myself. I’m not going to blame her. It’s not her fault. It’s Darrin’s fault. He’s such a bastard.

“Well, I’m pretty ticked off that you threw away the guy’s number, but there are other fish in the sea, I guess,” she says.

“It’ll still be in the trash at home. It’s not technically gone forever,” I say.

“You better grab it before bed,” she warns. “This is your ticket out of there. Once you go out with this guy, you’re never going to want to go home to Darrin again.”

“I’m such a slut,” I whisper, groaning a little to myself.

“You’re not a slut. Don’t listen to him. He’s the slut who threw a glass at you. I can’t trust him anymore. Frankly, I never really have,” she says with a steady confidence in her voice.

I blurt out, “I kissed him, you know.” Followed by, “That guy. In the women’s bathroom.”

“Wait,” she smiles. “Back up. You what?”

“I kissed him in the bathroom,” I repeat, feeling my cheeks turn warm. “Well, he kissed me, really. It was… well, it was interesting, to say the least.”

“You loved it, you bitch!” She slaps the couch in a hysterical fit. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you. You totally hid this from me.”

“I didn’t know he was going to do it!” I laugh. “All of a sudden he got all close to me. He put his finger up to my lips and told me to quiet down. That’s when he kissed me.”

“You’re depressing me,” she says. “That’s like the hottest thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth. Damn you, E.”

I relive it over and over again in my head. On the drive home, I stare at the darkened road and the white lines that I roll over, endlessly. The radio is powered off, but the wind provides a strange soundtrack to the images in my head.

He’s standing at the edge of my bedroom, in my new house. I wake up and see him there. He’s not smiling. He moves silently toward me. He crawls on the bed, putting his finger to his lips. I can’t speak. I can’t breathe. His hand slides up my nightgown and I feel as he enters me.

When he pulls his hand away, he offers me two wet fingers. “Taste yourself,” he commands me. I open my mouth for him, as if in a trance. He gazes into my eyes, piercing through my soul. His presence is so heavy.

I taste his fingers, the warmth of my wetness moving down my tongue. My lips wrap firmly around his fingers. It tastes sweet, like candy. There is no guilt, even though I know this is all so wrong. He pulls his fingers against my lips and brings his face down against my breasts. He licks around each nipple, lightly, and cups the bottom of my cleavage firmly.

“Walker,” I whisper. He smiles, and places his palm against my cheek. I close my eyes and my mouth falls open. His lips crush against mine. His tongue finally enters my mouth, circling around my own. He tastes fresh, like evergreen. He smells like old cologne. Fuck, he’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of.

He unzips his pants. His cock comes darting out, hard as a fucking rock. He doesn’t even take his pants off. He’s breathing quickly. He wants me too bad. There’s no time to spare. “Fuck me,” I whisper, spreading my legs.

My nightgown is off, thrown in the corner of the room. I feel him thrust into me, almost without warning. His hand moves up my stomach. He feels my soft skin and I can feel him grow harder inside of me. His pulse quickens. His hands then move to my ribs. He holds on with one hand. The other keeps going upward. It rests across my neck, serving as a reminder who’s boss.

This is my fantasy. This is the experience I’ve always desired. Power. Control. He’s the man to give me that, right? Somehow, I’m back in my driveway. It’s late and I’m wondering if Darrin is already in bed. The car lights are off, as well as the house lights inside, but I’m still running the car in the driveway.

I have my hands in between my legs, gripped firmly by my thighs. One finger is rubbing my clit, while I’m sliding in three fingers. I spread myself open, thinking about him, this mysterious man I met in a car crash. It would be fate if we were to meet again.

I cum harder than usual, getting the leather interior below me soaking wet. I don’t even bother to clean it with my dress. I close my eyes and breathe through my nose, until I’m calm again. “Walker,” I keep repeating in my head.

When I open my eyes again, I’m stepping out of the car. I walk over to the trashcan. I’m going to find his number again. However, when I lift the lid open, there’s nothing inside. “No, no, no,” I sigh to myself. “Fuck!”

I’m quiet, so as to not wake Darrin. I don’t want another repeat of last night. Not again. But I’m frantic. I look all over the house, quietly. I look inside my purse, I look in my phone to see if I saved the number, but I can’t find it anywhere. The boyfriend experience is not something I’ll be able to enjoy. That fateful car crash and that kiss in the bathroom, was all the fun a woman like me is allowed to have.

Maybe it’s fate telling me to get on with my marriage. A broken marriage isn’t something that’s unfixable, right? I don’t know anymore. I feel like I’m giving up.

When I go to sleep, I’m on the couch in the living room. The stain is still there. That was a test on my part. I left it there to see what he’d do with it. It should have been obvious. No effort has been made on Darrin’s part. He simply got off work and went to bed, probably watching the game before he shut his eyes.

I close my eyes and try to think of what I’ll do with my life. I think of what I’ll pack and where I’ll go. I can’t go to my parents. They won’t understand. They’ve been unhappily married for decades upon decades. I’ll have to figure it out on my own.

For now, I can breathe easy. When I dream, I dream of him, Walker Hambell. The kind of man I’ve been too scared I’d find. The man I’ve been waiting for. The man who got away.

Erica

This is the third day I haven’t gone in to work. When I look at my phone, bright and early, I laugh. “We’ve been waiting on you for days, Erica. Don’t bother coming in. We’ll find a replacement,” my boss texts me.

I knew it was heading that direction. That job was the best job I’ve ever had. I thought I’d die doing that job. Now, I don’t have anything. Oddly enough, I don’t feel bad about it. I feel absolutely young again. I feel free.

I head to the bedroom to see if Darrin is still home. He’s nowhere to be found, but his work briefcase is still on the bed, as if it was an aside to his day. I begin the final ascent. I start packing my things, first going through all of the necessities. My clothes, any toiletries I need, some old keepsakes. The hard part will be differentiating things we bought together. Fuck it, he can have it all. I don’t care.

When I’m finished, the house is much emptier. I take a look around me and start to feel nostalgic. This house was a dream when we first bought it. Darrin is right in a way. He did shell out a lot of money for this place, even though I begged him to let me pay when I got a chance. He always loved holding that over my head.

In the bedroom is his briefcase, still on the bed. Every time I turn to grab something, I see it. I don’t know what it is, but something tempts me to open it. I’m not famous for invading anyone’s privacy, but Darrin’s been my husband for years now. It’s not like him to miss a day of work. In fact, I’m almost positive he’s never taken a day off in his life.

So I open the damn briefcase. Of course it’s wrong of me, but it’s a compulsion I jump headfirst into. I click the numbers in place, I press the metal down, and it opens with a slight spring. I half expect to see solid gold inside, but instead see something akin to that in the male world.

Inside are women’s panties. Not just one. Not just two. But three pairs. Tucked away in the center of one pair is a note with a kiss mark pressed against the paper. “That bastard,” I whisper.

I grab the note and read it with ferocity. “Last night was the best night of my life. I love it when you tie me up, daddy,” it reads. “Love, Natasha.”

“Natasha!” I blurt out. “Is he fucking kidding me? He’s fucking his secretary?”

After all these years, after all we’ve been through, he ends up being an old, washed up story. Constantly dissatisfied with his life, he’s the guy who forces himself to crash and burn at every corner of his life. Needless to say, I’m livid.

I dig through his files, I look through every pocket in his stupid briefcase. I find exactly what I’m looking for. Underneath the reports, folded clandestinely, there is Walker’s card. The Boyfriend Experience.

“So, you found it,” I laugh.

He should have gone to greater lengths to destroy this thing. As I hold it in front of me, my legs tremble. I imagine his deep accent and the way his hands felt around my waist. I remember how choked up he made me and how fast my heart was beating. It was so wrong of him to follow me in the women’s bathroom like that. But when he locked the door, I couldn’t help but want him to take me right then and there.

I call him. I just have to do it. I’m full of urges today and I feel like a naughty girl. The phone rings at least five times until I hear his breath in the receiver. “Walker,” he says.

I don’t say anything. I’m too fucking choked up. What does a married woman say to a man like that? No, this just isn’t right. This isn’t how I want it to go. “Hello?” he asks, confused. My breath comes out sharp and quick.

“Is that you?” he asks.

I hang up the phone and throw it across the room. It lands flat on its face and I watch as it starts vibrating again. He’s calling me back. “Oh, god!” I yell.

I hear footsteps in the house. “What is it?” Darrin is standing in front of the doorway. His eyes dart from me to my phone, back and forth in quick bursts.

“What are you doing home?” I blurt out. But before he even has time to respond, I look back at the panties that are now strewn across the bed. “Natasha? Your secretary? Come on, Darrin.”

“I was going to tell you,” he sighs, turning dark red.

“Tell me what? That this is the fourth time you’ve done this? Get a grip. You’re losing it,” I say. “Seriously, you’re so far from the man I fell in love with.”

“And the boyfriend experience man? What’s his name? Walker?” He walks forward. “What about him? Is that who you went out with the other night?”

“I went to Jackie Faadon’s birthday party with Renata, you jerk. That’s the guy who crashed into your fucking bumper,” I say, collecting my things.

“Don’t you dare leave right now,” he says, blocking my only path outside.

“Darrin, get out of my way. Now,” I say, breathing heavy, but remaining as calm as I can.

“There’s something else I should tell you,” he says the words quickly, before I can run away from him.

“Oh yeah? What in the world could it possibly be?” I ask him. I’m beyond frustrated at this point. All I want to do is find a motel somewhere and sleep the day away.

“I’m leaving you,” he says with an air of confidence that makes me nauseous. “Me and Natasha… we’re running away together. I’m selling the house. Now, don’t cry. This is the natural progression of things, isn’t it? We’ll split everything 50/50.”

I’m so stunned that I actually start laughing. I laugh so hard that I have to fall to the floor to stop myself.

“What’s so damn funny?” he asks me. “Are you that heartless? Don’t you care about me at all?”

“No! I don’t. Not anymore,” I say. “Honestly, I can’t believe any of this is real. I have to leave.”

So, he won his little game. He knew it was over, so he made a rash decision. He decided to run off with the secretary. Now, they’ll buy a house together. They’ll feel so good about their “love” that they’ll have a baby or two. Barf. The whole thing makes me sick.

I push past him, carrying my two suitcases. “Let me help you with those,” he says, feigning hospitality.

“Don’t touch me, you perv,” I hiss at him, already halfway into the hall. Of course, right when I reach the step down to the front entranceway, I trip, nearly landing face first against the marble tile.

He helps me up, asking if I’m okay.

“I’m fine,” I say, feeling the tears attempt to flood down from my eyes. I hold my breath. My damn shin hurts so bad. My elbows are all scuffed up. Worst of all, I feel so stupid and embarrassed. I am not okay. I’m anything but okay. My husband has cheated on me with four different women. He’s called me a bitch. He’s thrown things at me. And now, as I try to leave with some ounce of grace, he watches as I trip. It’s the worst way to go out and I’m honestly hating myself for it right now.

“Wait!” he yells at me, once I’m back on my feet. “You forgot this.”

Great. What does he have for me now? In his hand is Walker’s card. I don’t need it. His phone number is on already locked in my phone. I give a harsh groan and don’t even respond. I get into the car and pull out. The bumper, which I had tried to tape together the other day, comes undone. It falls against the cement and scrapes loudly as I pull out.

I swear, when I leave, he’s smiling to himself. I look like a fool, while he looks like he could take on the world. It’s not always about appearances, but I have no shred of dignity left.

I’m left with the knowing that I’ll always have myself to rely on. It’s not the most comforting of realizations, although there’s something to it. I’m also left with one voicemail. I turn on my bluetooth and drive toward a motel in the near distance.

“I haven’t any clue whether or not this is you,” he says. “But if this is the woman I’m thinking of, call me.”

Walker

I lift the barbell over my chest. Ten. I press it back down, feeling my muscles bulge against the weight. Up again. Eleven. Pounding that barbell. Twelve. Up and down, the sweat runs down my body. I feel powerful. Thirteen. Strength ripples throughout my chest and arms. Fourteen.

I finish my workout and grab a sports drink from the fridge. I practice my American accent at noon, reading back the words from the CD I bought, while eating the finest eggs in town, hand delivered by the chef himself. I pay extra for that kind of service.

At 2 PM, I have basketball practice at the courts and at 3:30, I do some more pushups to tide me over. I eat a steak over at Monty’s and I’m feeling on top of the fucking world. Still, when I look at my phone, there’s no sign of her. She refuses to return my calls.

I know it was her. I just know it.

I grab a bloody mary, to loosen myself up a little. It’s been a full and productive day. Time to take it up a notch. A woman sitting with an older man at the bar keeps looking back at me. By the third time, I have to smile. Hell, if whatever-her-name won’t call me back, I’ll have to keep my options open, right?

I give her a wink and she smiles back, biting her lower lip. She’s some skimpy blonde woman, not typically my type, but I tend to make exceptions. Her man eventually heads to the bathroom and of course, she walks over to say hello. Her ass is almost on my lap, she’s sitting so close.

“I hate to ask,” she says, “But are you Walker Hambell? The boyfriend experience guy?”

Shit. One of those. I frown and take a sip of my drink, wondering how I’m going to answer this. “Never heard of him,” I say.

“Are you sure? My friend loves you,” she says. “She won’t stop talking about a date you two went on.”

“I think you’ve got the wrong guy,” I laugh. “Sorry.”

I glance over at the bathroom hall and her boyfriend is leaning against the corner, just staring at us. My heart starts to race faster than normal. “Look over here, sweetie,” she says, placing her hand on my cheek.

I quickly reach into my pocket and put a hundred dollar bill on the table. “Hey, where are you going?” she asks.

I move out of the booth I’m sitting in, headed for the door. “Where you off too, so soon?” the man asks. His voice is grim and tinged with a north London accent.

I ignore him and walk out to my Bentley. I get in, start the engine, and peel out of the parking. The man slowly walks out of the steakhouse, watching as I drive away.

“Fuck!” I scream, pounding my steering wheel. Hawk. He’s found me.

It’s time I face my demons. Back in England, I lived on the worst streets there are. IRA sentiments, young thugs looking for a fight, skinheads on every corner… and then there was me, a young wanker who refused take shit from anybody. I roamed those streets on my own. I took the beatings with pride. Each time I was bludgeoned, I got stronger.

Hawk eventually got to me. He got to every young kid without a home. Not to say I didn’t have a home. I did. Well, somewhat. But it was a small flat with a lonely mother. She couldn’t give me what I needed. The only person that could was Hawk and he knew that.

He took me in. First, he fed me. He gave me the best fucking steak dinner money could buy. “Can you imagine? Eating like this every day of your life?” he asked me. At the time, I couldn’t. I couldn’t imagine eating more than a biscuit and hard-boiled egg for lunch, maybe with a slice of ham on the side.

Soon, he’d give me cigarettes. He’d buy me a cider or two. Sometimes, he’d see me out with my friends and he’d ask, “You really want to hang around lowlifes like them? Why don’t you find better people? You’re destined for greatness.”

Destined for greatness. Well, I liked the sound of that. Deep down, I did feel like I was destined for something bigger than my current standing. I knew I’d get out of England. I’d get away from those cobblestone streets, stained from years of boots and the blood, sweat, and tears from the city’s working class. I knew I wouldn’t end up in one of those factories, destined for a life of drinking in pubs and singing during football matches.

I’d end up in America, like so many others. I’d head out west. I’d feel the sun for once in my life. “Give the people a service,” he’d tell me. “Something unique, but nothing drug related. You don’t want to go down that path, my boy.”

It confused me at the time. What could I do that was unique? I was just a bloke from a poor town and poor mother. My father didn’t even know my bloody name. But women, they took a fancy to me. From the very start, it was the squeezing of my cheeks and the kisses on the tops of my head. “He’s so cute, this little one,” they’d squeal. I knew if they said something like that, I could get something out of them. It meant cookies before dinner. It meant a fiver so I could go to the market and get a little something for myself.

Later in life, it meant loads of fucking cash. Hawk dealt in everything shady. He may have told me to stay away from drugs, but that didn’t mean he did. He was building a little empire for himself and the police turned a blind eye once they got their cut every week. There was Adi, the young bloke from Pakistan. He was a drug runner and he was considered the best. There was Boris from Russia. He dealt in entertainment. Women from Czech. That sort of thing.

There was me. I had charm. Somehow, I always looked and acted like I had class. Hawk didn’t know what to do with me. He’d tell me, “Someday, I’ll have you run this whole thing. You’re the only one I trust over here.”

Eventually, it was obvious I needed to make some money. He sent me to the entertainment clubs with Boris and I saw what they did for money. I couldn’t fathom it. Sex? It was unsettling. Boris didn’t give two shits about it. He laughed at their plight.

As he showed me around the club circuit, I realized the life of the freelancer. I read about the divorce rates in America. I knew about the sad housewife, the woman who lost her husband, and the females who just wanted someone to talk to. That paid twice the price of sex. It was the most unique thing I could think of and it didn’t take that much talent.

Hawk loved the idea. He sent me to the richest country clubs in London. I collected cash from politician’s wives. Fucking Tories even. They confided in me. Soon enough, Hawk became the richest man in the city.

I grew weary and left. I made for the west coast, just like I said I would. No one would find me there. I’d become my own boss and I’d build my own kingdom in the comfort of the sun.

I should have known Hawk would be searching for me. I should have been more careful. Fuck, I shouldn’t have gone by my own name. How stupid am I? It won’t be long before they drag me back. Whatever happens after that is a mystery. Before I go, however, I have one wish. To find that woman and give her everything I have. I want to show her what it’s like to be touched, to be tasted, and to be savored. I want to show her what it’s like to fuck a real man.

Erica

Late at night, in this motel room, I’m thinking of the dirtiest things. Flesh on flesh, collars around the neck, hands grabbing thick waists, his lips kissing down my body… I’m the hottest I’ve ever been, now that I’m away from the terrible reality that was my life.

Walker’s voice on my voicemail keeps playing in my head. I wish I had the nerve to call him, but I don’t. When I think about doing it, I feel too embarrassed. I think of myself falling yesterday. I think of Darrin smiling as I pulled out of the driveway. I’m such a wreck. There’s no way Walker will ever want me and, frankly, I’m not sure if I even want him. Well, I want him, but for how long? How far could we even go with that?

“He’s a rebound,” I hear Renata’s voice in my head. “A booty call.” The whole thing kind of grosses me out. I mean, what is the boyfriend experience anyway? Is he an escort? Does he get paid to fuck these women?

Finally, when the clock hits ten at night, I’ve got the television going. Some bad 80s action flick is playing, while I surf on my laptop. I hear my phone vibrate again and my heart skips a beat. Do I answer it? I just stare as the phone lights up with his number.

I grab it and hold it in my hand. I try to calm down and then I answer it. “Finally,” he says. “You answered my call.”

“Are you an escort? Because if you are, I can’t see you,” I say.

He laughs. “Right off the bat? Is that how you start a conversation?” he asks.

“Sorry,” I sigh. “It’s been a rough few days for me and I’m not really used to talking to someone like you.”

“I’m not an escort,” he says. “How do I explain this? I offer women an experience. Sex is not included. I take women out. I’m a person who listens to their feelings, someone who tells them stories and jokes. Sometimes they want me to comfort them. It’s quite an easy job, actually.”

I think it over for a second. The whole thing is just so alien to me. “Listen,” he says. “If you’re going to judge me for what I do, I can hang up right now. I’ve got all the money I need. I could be out right now, making even more money. I don’t need to deal with an uptight woman like you.”

“I am not uptight,” I say. “In fact, I still want to do that trade we discussed.” The words just come out.

Still, the arrogant bastard just laughs at me! “No can do. Sorry,” he says. “That chance has flown away.”

“Flown away? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I ask him. “You owe me for my bumper.” He’s making me feel so shitty about myself. I keep going back to how I left my house. The tripping, oh fuck me. And now this? This is chalking up to being the worst few days of my life.

“You’re not getting the experience,” he says. “That’s for old bags with no hope left. As for the bumper, I’ll pay you for that. Don’t worry. I just want one date. That’s it.”

“One real date?” I ask him.

“That’s all I’m asking for. The experience thing… it’s not real. It’s an act I do,” he says.

“I see,” I mutter, feeling a little strange. The sound of his voice is enough to keep me on the phone. It’s handsome. It’s powerful. It says, “I’ve got a big cock and I know how to use it.”

“When I crashed into you the other day, I knew I had to ask you out. Then, when I saw you at the party, walking into the women’s bathroom,” he pauses for a second, before continuing, “you don’t even want to know what I was thinking.”

“I do,” I find myself saying. “I do want to know.”

“It’s bad,” he says. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Erica,” I whisper. I cough a little, clearing my throat. “It’s Erica.”

“Erica,” his voice is smooth and dark when he says my name. “I wanted to lock that door and take you right then and there. I wanted to throw you in that stall, to push your ass over that toilet seat, and fuck the life out of you then and there. I wanted to leave you twitching.”

I feel it in between my legs. I’m wet. I start to touch myself, trying not to moan into the phone. “Yeah?” I whisper. My voice is shaky and weak. My throat is dry. “What else did you want to do?” I barely get the words out.

“I wanted to spank you for being a naughty little bitch,” he says. My eyes widen as my pussy grows even wetter. Fuck, how does he know exactly what I want to hear? “I wanted to use my belt as a collar, so I could teach you how to behave like a good girl. I wanted to cum inside you, Erica.”

That last part gets me. “But I’m not on birth control,” I say.

“You think I give a damn?” he asks. “You’ve been driving me crazy for almost a bloody week now.”

Oh. My. God. “You really want to treat me like dirt, don’t you?” I ask him.

“I want you to be good for me. Once you prove to me you can be good, I’ll make you cum harder than you’ve ever cum before.”

“I’ve been dreaming about you too,” I say. “I’ve been dreaming of you sneaking into my bedroom while I’m asleep. I imagine you just watching me as I dream, peacefully.”

“Fuck, you’re making me so hard,” he says.

“I dream of you hovering over my bed. You’re wearing all black. When I open my eyes, you put your hand over my mouth. ‘Don’t scream,’ you whisper. ‘Don’t make a fucking sound.’ I dream of you scrambling to pull my panties down. You rip them off me as I struggle. You pull my hair when I bite your palm.”

“Fuck,” he says to himself. “I’m stroking it right now. You want me to take you. Don’t you? Admit it.”

“I do,” I moan. “After I struggle for a bit, you always shove it inside me. You force my lips open and grab my tits. You use me to your liking. You hold my neck, so I know you’re in control. When I think about it, I always cum instantly. I’m scared, but it’s what I’ve always fantasized about.”

“And your husband knows this?” he asks me.

“We’re not together anymore,” I whisper. “I moved out yesterday.”

“Where are you?” he asks. His breathing is heavy.

“I’m at a motel. I’m by myself,” I say.

“I’m coming over,” he says.

“You don’t know where I am.” I think about him coming over. Part of me really wants it to happen. It’s a tempting fantasy to dive into. However, the other part of me is absolutely terrified. I haven’t been with another man in over six years. Possibly longer, even. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea if I tell you.”

“Trust me,” he says. “It’s the only option you have right now.”

“Fuck,” I whisper. I think of how he’ll fuck. I turn red with desire. There’s no guilt inside of me left. I imagine his hips thrusting upward, into me. I’m so wet. It’s absolutely insane.

“Okay,” I give in. I give him the address and the phone clicks down. There’s no response at all from him, just silence. He’s gone. He hung up the phone.

Erica

I wait for at least three hours. There’s nothing from him. This city isn’t that big. It doesn’t take somebody hours to get somewhere and it’s late at night. There isn’t anybody on the roads. I start to realize that maybe I’ve been stood up. But why?

I don’t think about it too much. Walker is most likely some cocky Brit who is used to getting what he wants, when he wants. Maybe I just wasn’t a big deal to him. He sees women on a daily basis. I’m just another fish in the sea. I fall asleep to the sound of television infomercials. My dreams are light and fluffy, nice and easy-going.

I wake up startled when I hear a loud bang. I hear yelling coming from the other room. It quickly stops, but my heart is beating. I moan lightly and close my eyes again, ready to fall back into my peaceful dream world.

I feel a hand over my ass and I smile. This dream is nice. It feels good and, God, I’ve been so horny lately. It’s invading my subconscious. Slowly, it moves over my round butt, trailing up my back. I shiver lightly and my eyes open.

Wait a second…

I quickly flip my body around and try to see in the darkness. Before I can scream for help, a hand falls firmly across my mouth. “Don’t move. Don’t say anything. Just do what I say,” he commands me. Walker. It’s him. He came. And he’s playing out my favorite fantasy. Holy shit.

His other hand rips my nightgown off. He literally tears the fabric off. I struggle and slap at his arm. I kick at him. I do everything to play along. He leans his whole body weight on me. “I said don’t fucking move,” he whispers. “Don’t worry. This will be quicker than you think.”

He slides his hand underneath my panties. He feels my wet pussy, throbbing with excitement. With each pulse, I grow wetter, warmer, and softer. This doesn’t last long. He grabs a hold of the soaking cotton panties and pulls them down to my ankles. His hands trail up to my tits. He grabs them and moans loudly.

This is the boyfriend experience? I have to wonder. Of course, it’s not. This is my own experience, the fantasy of my dreams, and it’s all free.

I stare up at him. He takes off his shirt and I can’t help but notice how powerful he looks, towering above me like that. His muscles are impeccable. Darrin got so out of shape by the end, but this guy is like straight out of a movie or something.

He grabs my hips and pulls me closer to him. My eyes are wide open. “I’ll uncover your mouth if you promise not to scream,” he says. “Nod if you understand me.”

I nod and he releases me. He kisses my stomach and breathes in my scent. “I didn’t think you’d come,” I whisper.

“I wanted to take you by surprise.” I can see his smile even in the dark. “I know how much you’ve been thinking about it. God, you’re fucking hot.”

He kisses down to my pelvic bone. His tongue slides out with his lips. He moves lower and lower until he’s face to face with my pussy. He licks my lips and groans wildly. I moan with pleasure, sliding my tongue against the top of my mouth. “You really think so?”

“Shut up and let me show you,” he says.

His two fingers slide in and out slowly. He pushes a third one in once I loosen up a little, but it’s a tight fit. His cock is still mysteriously shrouded in his jeans, but I know it’s waiting for me and I have a feeling it’s going to be huge.

“Mm,” he moans. You taste like chocolate. I can’t wait until you cum.”

He doesn’t just eat my pussy. He consumes it. His tongue wraps around my clit and his warm breath creates an already hot climate. I’m so wet and I just keep getting wetter. He opens his mouth and sucks down on me. My clit is so stimulated that I begin to feel that aching, buzzing sensation. My toes curl against the bed. My moans grow louder. His sucking and fingering is more intense than ever. His fingers press against the top of my pussy and I can’t understand why Darrin was never this passionate with me.

The buzzing grows louder inside my head. The vibrating inside my body pushes upward, to the edges of my dripping pussy. He’s so sloppy with me. There’s no part of my pussy that isn’t covered in his saliva. Finally, the bubble bursts inside of me. Wave upon wave of intense pleasure radiates throughout my body. His free hand moves to my neck and he wraps his hand around it firmly, making sure I can still breathe.

The pleasure inches its way into my very being. “I’m cumming,” I finally manage to say, way after the fact. He doesn’t let up on me, but he lets go of my neck. I breathe in large gulps of air, smiling wide. This is everything I’ve been dreaming of. Hard sex. Passion. Obsessive touching. The things my husband would never give to me.

I tremble on top of the mattress and watch as he rips off his belt. He throws it in the corner of the room, along with his jeans. He’s not wearing any underwear. “Oh my…” I begin to speak. He just smiles as I grab his cock. For a second, I have to wonder if it’ll even fit. It’s so much bigger than I thought.

It takes both of my small hands to fit around his length, but my mouth instinctively opens wide for him. He slides the tip into my mouth. My lips press down on him as he moves across my tongue. I taste him and cup his balls, stroking him with my other hand.

He pushes out from my mouth and says, “Fuck this, I need to be in your pussy. I need you so fucking bad.”

He picks me up in his arms and places me on my knees. “Use me,” I whisper. “Do what you want to me.”

I want him to get rough with me. I don’t want him to hold back. I’ve been waiting for him for days now, obsessively thinking about him, and about how he’d fuck. So far, he’s living up to my standards.

First, he spanks my ass hard. I feel the sting swell up to my throat. Light tears swell up in my eyes. “Yes,” I moan. He spanks me again. This time, I’ve almost gotten used to the pain. It starts to feel good. I feel it in my pussy, like a desire that can’t be fulfilled. I cling to it, waiting for it to burst open into another orgasm. “Again,” I whisper. His hand falls flat on my ass. I turn my head and watch as it bounces.

He grabs the thick of my hair and pulls it back into a ponytail. “My pretty girl,” he says. “So beautiful. So fragile. I’m going to teach you what it’s like to be a woman.”

I can’t begin to describe the feelings that are running through my head right now. He’s so fucking sexy that it blows my mind. He pulls my hair back harder now and I feel the tip of his cock push against my lips. He spits downward and I feel his spit now too, dripping into my hole.

I open up for him the more turned on I get. His cock pushes through my lips and after a few tries, he’s finally inside me. We both moan so loud that I’m sure everyone can hear us. He keeps a firm grip on my hair, while also feeling my tits. He’s bending down, overtop me, and his whole body is close to him.

He kisses my cheek by pulling my head up to his. “So beautiful,” he moans. His thought seems to hang onto him, clawing into him until he can’t take it any longer. Our lips crush together and he tastes so fucking good. His tongue moves against mine and his cock grows harder. He keeps feeling my body. He adores it. He kisses every part of it. I can’t take it.

He thrusts into me, hard and methodical. He lets go of my hair to feel more of me. Eventually, he grows tired of exploring. He sticks to the mission at hand, conquest. I want him to conquer me. I shouldn’t want him to go as far as we talked about on the phone, but I do.

Both hands grip around my waist as he takes control of my body. “That’s right,” he moans. He holds onto my flesh, pumping his cock inside of me. As he fucks me and pulls back, so do my lips. We stick to each other and slide against our passions.

He begins to move faster. Harder, he thrusts his cock into my pussy. “I love your lips,” he says, staring at my pussy. “Your cunt… I love its color. The dark pink hue, the way your lips are shaped. You’re so fucking sexy to me. You’re unlike any woman I’ve ever met before.”

“I want you to cum inside of me,” I admit. “But you need to wear a condom. They’re in the drawer.” Maybe it’s awkward, but I’m also a responsible human being. I’m not going to fuck up on this one. If he wants to go all the way, he’ll have to play by my rules.

He plays the game well. He quickly puts the condom on and lays me flat on my back, gentle as ever. “I want to put a baby inside you,” he says, playing along with our phone call earlier. “I want to fill you with my cum.”

“Give it to me. I want you to cum so bad, Walker. I want to please you,” I say. I’m so turned on. He’s staring me in the eyes like he’s dreamed of me, like I’ve been on his mind for days. He really wants this. A girl can tell.

He begins pounding against me with sheer force I didn’t expect. He holds me down as he endlessly thrusts. The sound of his cock pushing inside me, his balls slapping my ass, and his skin smacking against mine, sends me into the throes again. I’m cumming and trying to hold onto him as his hands hold me down firmly.

“Oh, fuck,” he moans. “Erica.”

He moves slower, but the intensity is still there. His cock seems to swell and grow, until it begins to move up and down rapidly. In fact, his whole body pulsates erratically. I feel it. I can feel his cum. He thrusts one last time, hard, and he’s fully inside of me, as deep as he can go.

“Yes, baby!” I moan. He kisses my face and bites my bottom lip, pulling back.

“Fuck,” he slides out and throws the condom into the trash. He feels my pussy with his hand, lightly squeezing it together. “You don’t understand how bad I wanted that.”

“Shut up,” I laugh, brushing him off. But I admit, “You don’t either.”

We stare at each other for a while, until we’re kissing like crazy teenagers. We’re kissing and touching each other, and exploring each other’s bodies. The whole room is about the same temperature as hell and about as sinful too. Just the way I like it. I feel his muscles and kiss each ripple of ab.

He’s perfect, truly perfect. And tonight, he’s all mine.

Walker

I have to tell her. I have to tell her the truth of my situation: I won’t be around much longer. Now, that they’ve found me, I need to leave. I need to go home and face what I started.

“I have to leave in a few days,” I finally say, as we’re laying in bed in the darkness.

“Where are you going?” she asks me with a look of confusion in her eyes. She seems hurt and I don’t blame her. I fucked up on this one. It’s just that I needed her badly. I still do.

I’m going to sell my house, my car, and everything I own. I’m going to face Hawk and determine my next move. He’s going to be more than angry. I’ve seen his torturous ways before. I’ve seen the way he dealt with the others. I was always smarter than them. However, everyone’s luck eventually runs out sooner or later.

“Back to London,” I lie. “Back to the city and my mum. She’s sick and can’t afford a nurse at home.”

“You’re leaving to London?” she’s stunned. “You’re joking, right?” She tries to laugh, but it’s obvious that I’m not joking.

“Oh, I don’t want to leave,” I groan and wrap my arms around her. “But I have to. What else can I do?”

“You’re filthy rich,” she laughs. “Just fly her overseas.”

“It’s not that simple,” I say, kissing the top of her head. She thinks I’m a total fucking cunt right now. She’s right, of course. I’m an asshole. I knew all along I would have to leave eventually. But I couldn’t let her get away. She’s the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. It’s maddening.

“My mum,” I continue. “She’s a little old fashioned, you see? She’s lived in the same flat for over forty years. She’s not leaving anytime soon. She told me she’d rather die than leave, Erica.”

She sits there with a sour look on her face. “Okay,” she says, turning away from me. “I hope your mother starts to feel better.”

I don’t know if my mother is alive or dead. It’s been a lifetime since I’ve seen her. I’m a horrible person. I can’t believe I hurt this angel like this. I wish I could make things right, but I can’t. This is just how the cards were dealt.

“Come now,” I whisper. “We have tonight. We’ll always have tonight.”

“Yeah, but,” she starts, but then just ends up sighing loudly. “Forget it.”

“What? Tell me,” I plead.

“It’s just that,” she gives a frustrated noise, unable to articulate what she’s feeling. I already understand her. “I thought maybe we could do this again. You know, like, maybe we could go out somewhere.”

“You told me you didn’t want to. You said you were married, remember?” I think about the time with her in the bathroom. It was so hot to see her trembling with fear over me.

“I was being stupid,” she says. She turns back around. “I’m getting divorced, Walker. I’m happy about it. I just thought you might have wanted to see me one last time.”

“I do,” I say. I actually do. I’m not lying anymore. I wanted to take her out, to spoil her to no end, and spank her ass silly. Now, because of Hawk, I won’t be able to indulge. It’s bullshit, as they say here. “I really like you, Erica.”

“Then stay. Don’t leave me here,” she says. “I hate this place. If you leave, I’ll leave too. I’ll go up north somewhere. I’ll go to Canada.”

I kiss her body and move closer to her. “I’m sorry for everything,” I say. “But I’ll be back. And when I am, I’ll find you.”

“What about your phone? Do you have an email? There was an email on the card, right?” she asks.

“I won’t be able to talk too much out there. Besides, the boyfriend experience is over,” I sigh. “For now at least. It was a good run. I made some damn good money. But don’t you think it was a little funny of a job? I couldn’t keep going out with these sad women after I’ve met you. It would feel too wrong.”

She doesn’t even know what to say. She just lies there, stiff. “Whatever,” she finally says. “I don’t care.”

“I’ll find you,” I say again. “I promise.”

“Just lay with me,” she finally says. “Hold me.”

I wrap my warm body around her. I feel her ass push back, against me. She holds my arms and I’m stuck with one fact. This is the greatest night of my life.

Erica

When I wake up, he’s already gone. I had a feeling he would be, anyway. The curtain on the window is blowing against the A/C. It’s freezing in here and I’m over everything right now.

I climb out of bed and walk over to the dresser. He left a note at least. “Erica, I never meant to hurt you like this. All I wanted was one night with you, but I quickly realized that one night is not enough,” he writes. “Even if you don’t believe me, I will come back. You may be with somebody else. You may move on. There are other men besides me out there. But that won’t matter. I’ll still try. Right now, things aren’t working for me here. It has nothing to do with you. I hope you believe me. Yours, Walker.”

“Bastard,” I mutter under my breath.

I feel low, like I’m not worth anything. Is he telling the truth? I have every reason not to believe a guy like him. I don’t know what it is, but I have this idea that maybe he was just doing me a favor. Is it possible that he played out my every fantasy, just to be nice and get out of paying off my damn car?

It doesn’t matter, I suppose. My life is over, anyway. I have no place to go back to. No man. No home. I have a car, but it’s not even technically mine. I don’t have a job anymore. I’ve really made the best decisions this past week. I look at my motel room and sigh. This is all I have. At least it’s four walls.

I fall back on the bed and groan. I look at the counter next to the right side and I see a briefcase. “Shit,” I laugh. “He forgot his briefcase.” However, it’s a bit weird. I don’t remember him even having one to begin with. I grab the handle and pull it toward me.

I start to get curious again. Who knows what’s inside? It could be another panty set. There’s no lock on it, so I do the dirty and click it open. Inside is another note, laid on top a set of hundred dollar bills. I grab the note and read it. “This is for your car.” Simple.

I count the money, running my hand through the hundred dollar bills. It actually takes me a while to count it all out, but I eventually get there. “Are you kidding me?” I whisper to myself. “Ten thousand dollars?”

I can’t believe it. The car might’ve cost three thousand, tops. But ten thousand? There’s no reason why he should have left that amount of money. I’m not complaining, of course. It sort of solves my dilemma. Maybe he really did like me. Maybe his mother is in bad shape.

Still, the day doesn’t get any easier for me. If I had no shame, I could call Darrin. At least he’d be familiar. I can’t let myself do that, of course. It wouldn’t be a wise choice.

“Walker,” I whisper to myself. I think of his face and I smile. I dream of his body and I feel hot. I can still hear his accent in my ears, whispering, “You’re an angel.” He made me feel so fucking good. Now, he’s gone. He’s out of my life forever.

All those promises are just lingering lies. Years will pass and we’ll both move on and forget the night we found love and passion in one another. His mother will get better or she’ll get worse. He’ll move to a different state back home, or he’ll never come back. Who knows? As for me, I’ll have found another job and started another life. If “we” were to happen, it was now or never. The timing was just way off.

So I say my goodbyes. I even cry a little. It’s not like me, but this week has been utter chaos for me. I feel so damn strained and misunderstood. To top it all off, I met someone really fun and wildly different. You only do that a few times in this life.

No, it’s not a sob story. These things tend to happen for a reason. I just wish I could have one last kiss. All I want is one touch from Walker Hambell, the boyfriend I never could have.

Walker

“Alright, you bastard. You want me? You can have me.”

Leaving is never my strong suit. I’m not one of those men who says goodbye, hugs it out for two hours, and cries. I’m silent. I’m mysterious. Most of all, I move on fast.

Well, usually I do. Today, however, has been fucking rough. I can’t get Erica off my mind. When I close my eyes, I see her body. When I listen, I hear her voice. There are memories I will never forget, such as her lips around my cock, eyes squinting with a smile as she pulls it back out, like the naughty girl she is.

God dammit, she was wild. She was totally insane. And that’s why I wanted her so bad. She offered me something no woman could before. She was on my level.

I hope she uses the money well. She deserves it. Anyway, I don’t need it. I’ve got too much cash to fly with, right now. This morning, my realtor told me on the phone he thinks I can get 2.5 million dollars for this house. Then there’s the car and the toys, and everything else I own. If it’s money that Hawk wants, he can have it. I’ve got plenty to spare. Something tells me that’s not all he’s after.

It’s not long before I’m at the airport, booking a late flight to London. “First class,” I tell the lady. She takes one look at my black credit card and nods. “Yes, there’s a flight going out today, actually. One seat available, but you’ll have to pay a little extra.”

Sure. Take it all. I don’t care anymore.

I grab my ticket and head through security. A woman in line turns around and smiles at me. I smile back and she actually touches my thigh. In my head, I see Erica. I can picture her standing with me. We’re travelling the world together. We’re making a new life with each other. We have a child and we’re bloody happy.

“Sir? You’re passport, please.”

I wake up from my dream. “Oh, right. Sorry,” I mutter. I hand him my passport and my bags, and I get through. The airport is a nightmare zone, but when I’m on my flight, I can breathe a little easier.

The flight so far is smooth and calm. After a whiskey or two, I fall asleep. When I’m dreaming, she’s there. Erica, the woman I can’t stand to be away from. It’s that same dream I keep having of her. We’re close to each other, we’re smiling, and we’re free. The sun is shining and we’re in our house together, in the countryside of England. Our little boy is running in the fields, screaming as he flies a kite. I’m right there with him. We’re older in this dream, but all feels right.

Of course, this is just fantasy. That’s never going to happen. I’m never going to live a life with Erica. I’ll never see her again. Time will move forward and so will she. She’ll find a new husband and have the best damn life she’s ever had. I’ll be stuck, managing Hawk’s “business.”

Come tomorrow, I’ll be without her.

* * *

Weeks pass and I keep my cool. I try not to think about her. I try my damn hardest not to care. Eventually, you just keep walking. You focus on your rhythm and you tell yourself, “It’s okay. This is life.”

Weeks in a flat alone, I have no one to talk to and nowhere to go. Eventually, I work up the courage to go and see Hawk. I walk onto the block and a gang of children, none of them older than nineteen, greets me. Some are younger. They stand there, arms crossed, waiting to hear me speak. I forgot what it was like here. These kids are young, but they’re ruthless and unaffected by any kind of fear.

“Came to see Hawk,” I mutter, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

“Bit of a poofter, innit?” one of them asks. They all laugh. It’s the equivalent of calling me a pussy. I’m not amused.

“I remember when I was in your shoes,” I laugh. “On the streets, bangin’ away. Me and my mates, the knackered and pissed.”

“Wasteman,” one of them says. “I suggest you fucking put your head down and leave.”

I simply laugh and take a step forward. I may be a nice sight to look at, but I’m not afraid of these children. I’ve suffered through the worst fights. “Hawk. Send him to me.”

“Piss off!” the boy yells. They all step around me, ready to give me the fight of my life.

I hear a pair of footsteps and every single person turns around. “There you are,” I say. “Hawk.”

“You came back,” he says, nodding. “I’m a bit surprised. Miss me?”

“It was about time,” I say. Erica. She flashes in my mind. It was the worst timing ever.

He doesn’t say anything back. He just continues to stare. The kids are waiting on him to react.

“Anyway, are you proper skint?” British slang, meaning are you broke? “I’ve got your money.”

I hold out a small briefcase. “There’s sixty large inside. I have a million coming your way in about a week,” I say.

“Not here,” he mutters. “Come. Follow me.” We circle around the block, until we reach a familiar door. He knocks a few times and the guys open it for him. We step inside and walk through a red hallway. Soon enough, we’re in his office.

“I can’t believe this place still exists,” I smile. “Brings back memories.”

“Let’s get down to business,” he sighs. “Are you back? Because I don’t want to have to cut off any fingers.” There’s a few seconds pause before he bursts out laughing.

“Fucking hell,” I laugh a little.

“It’s a joke. Calm down. We’re even,” he says. But I know in my heart we’re not even. I’ll have to stay here. I’ll have to work for him again. I’ll have to give up everything I once had, and everything I could have had.

Erica. A house. A life. We could have had a kid. We could have been something beautiful.

But inside my heart, I’m ugly. I know I am. My choices are all fucking wrong. My demons are large. This is my punishment. This is what I get for thinking I could run the world my way.

“So,” he exhales. “Welcome home, Walker.”

Erica

It’s been six weeks since he left me, six whole weeks since he left my life in tatters. I’d cry, but Renata has been nice enough to put me up for the time being. Lately, I’ve just felt off. I don’t know if it’s the stress of everything, or if it’s because he left to England without even calling me one last time. Something isn’t sitting right inside of me.

“Who cares?” Renata brushes the whole thing off. “You’re on top of the world. Can’t you see that?”

I laugh a little, but I try to see it her way. I have to admit. It’s really hard. “No, I can’t. I have no husband, no job, and no prospects,” I say. “Worst of all, I don’t have him.”

I fall back on her couch and stare at the ceiling. Everything is colorless to me. I reach into my purse and pull out his card. The boyfriend experience. Yeah, some experience. “Give me that,” she says, yanking it out of my hand. She rips it in half. “You don’t need to hang onto the past like you are.”

“Hey!” I yell. “What the hell?”

She looks at me squarely and frowns. “Move on, Erica,” she says. “Seriously. It’s for your own health.”

She’s right. I clutch my hands around my coffee cup and close my eyes. I need to calm down. I need to stop thinking about him. He’s not the end all be all to my life. Just breathe, Erica. I take one breath in, hold it in, and release. I start to feel a little better. I repeat the little exercise.

“There you go, E.” She smiles. “You don’t need him. All you need is yourself.”

I keep breathing, until I start to feel something in my stomach. It’s a creeping sickness coming in. “Wait a second,” I slow down and bend over the couch, clutching my abdomen. It grows and grows, until… “Shit.” I jump up and run to the bathroom.

I vomit all of my coffee and breakfast. “Fuck,” I breathe. I puke again. The image is so flattering. When I’m done, I feel much better. It’s really weird I haven’t felt sick at all until just now. I sit on the toilet with my hands over my head, reclaiming my breath.

“Baby girl, are you okay?” Renata peaks her head into the bathroom.

“I don’t know,” I sigh. “I guess so. I don’t know what just happened. Maybe it’s too much coffee or something.”

“Yeah, maybe,” she mutters. I can tell she has something else on her mind and, yes, it’s already been a thought of mine as well. What if I’m pregnant? Back when I was in college, I had that thought every single time I fucked someone.

“I’m not pregnant. I can’t be pregnant,” I tell her. “Right?”

She kneels down and rubs my arm. “Show me your tits,” she says.

“What?” I exclaim. “No!”

She shrugs. “Well, are they swollen at all? Have you been feeling sick in the morning?”

“No. I mean, not really. I’ve felt kind of weird lately, but that’s just because of everything going on around me. It’s like my whole energy has been off,” I say.

She looks at me, frowning. “Erica,” she says, “you need to go get a test.”

“I’m not pregnant!” I stand up and walk out of the bathroom. I turn back around. “He used a condom. We were safe.”

“Did you check the thing afterward?” she asks me, hands on her hips. “Were you as safe as you thought?”

“No, I didn’t. I’m not going to go digging around for his used condom, Ren,” I say, feeling exhausted.

“But he blew his load inside you?” she asks.

“You’re seriously disgusting,” I say. But I have to face the facts. “Okay, he did. But I’m not pregnant. I cannot and will not be pregnant.”

“It wouldn’t be great with everything going on in your life lately,” she agrees. “But I’m here for you, always. You can stay here as long as you want. I don’t mind.”

“I’m not having a baby. I’m not having a baby. I’m not having a baby,” I repeat it over and over again. “I’m healthy. I’m young. I’m going to find a job and a man, and I’m going to have a good, well-planned life.”

“I’m just saying,” she goes on, “that I’m here for you if you need me. That’s all.”

“Thanks, Ren. I really appreciate it,” I say. “I’m going to go on a drive.”

“You need me to come with?” she asks, eyes full of empathy and understanding. It’s when I see her eyes that I almost start to cry. What if I am pregnant? What if Walker’s child is inside of me right now?

“No, I’m okay,” I say, quickly walking out the door. “I’ll call you when I’m coming home.”

“Love you,” she says, before I close the door.

I walk to the car as fast as I possibly can. I close the door and lean back in my seat. I’m not going to cry. I don’t know anything yet. I’m just going to go to the store, pick up a few tests, and leave. I’m about to get my peace of mind. There’s no way I’m pregnant. As disgusting as it is to think about, Darrin used to cum inside me all of the time. I’ll be fine. I know it.

An hour later, I’m in the superstore, holding a test in my hand. Babies and children are practically surrounding me. One mother yells at her daughter, telling her to “Put back that toy! Put it down now!” Her daughter lets out a shrill cry of despair. It’s piercing.

“Jesus,” I mutter, walking to the bathroom. I slam the stall shut and sit on the toilet. I carefully undo the box top and tear open the plastic. Every sound is so loud to me right now. My senses seem to be going crazy. I can’t tell if it’s all in my head, however. It’s been weeks and I’m having pregnancy symptoms already? It can’t start that early. Can it?

I pee on that damn stick. It’s not the first time I’ve done it. Darrin and I went through the rounds a handful of times. He never wanted children, despite promising me them someday. Ultimately, it was a good idea we never pursued that path, but if I’m fucking pregnant now, I’m done for. My life will be over.

The time it takes for this damn test to show results feels like a lifetime. I hold it in front of me, waiting for the image to show up. Please. Please don’t say positive. Please tell me I’m just stressed the fuck out.

The image starts to form. My heart pounds. My vision slows down. Tears form in my eyes. Positive +. I let out a horrid cry. “No!” I scream. My voice falters and I can’t even say anything. It can’t be. It has to be wrong.

I rip open another test and go through the motions. Positive +. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I whisper. “Shit, no!” Tears pour from my eyes, trailing down my cheeks. Walker. The motherfucker who got me pregnant.

Where is he now? Where will he be tomorrow? I’m never going to get that call from him. There’s never going to be another chance. Even if there was, he wouldn’t stay with me to raise a baby. How stupid am I? I have to be a fucking moron to ruin my life this much.

“Are you okay?” a woman asks me through the stall. “Do you need help?”

“I’m fine,” I whisper. “I’m…” I don’t know what to say to the woman. Do I tell her I’m pregnant with a foreign man’s child? “I’m just going through something right now.”

“Okie dokie,” she says, walking away.

Okie dokie. Everything is just hunky dory. I’m pregnant and I’ll never get my life back.

I call Renata and close my eyes, trying to block the world out. “Erica? What’s up? You okay?”

“Ren,” I cry. “I’m pregnant. I’m fucking pregnant.”

* * *

Six years later…

“Aidan! You’re going to be late for the bus!” I yell. “Ronnie?”

I’m finishing making his sandwich. I throw in a plastic bag of carrots. I leave a note inside. “Have a wonderful day, my love. Mommy misses you!”

First Grade. It’s such a big thing for a mom. He’s getting so much older. “Mommy! I feel sick!” I hear him yell.

“God dammit, Aidan,” I whisper. It doesn’t mean he’s not a little faker. I walk into his room and he’s taken off his clothes and tucked his body under the covers. “Aidan, come on. You don’t have much time. You’re going to miss the bus.”

“Mom, I’m sick,” he groans and fakes a cough. I walk over and feel his head. He actually feels colder than normal. There’s not a trace of too much heat in his body.

“Aidan, you feel fine. Don’t kid me. I won’t read to you tonight if you do,” I warn him.

He groans loudly and rolls out of bed. “Sorry,” he says. I put his shirt over his head and he wiggles into it. I put on his pants, his socks, and his shoes, all in such a hurry.

“Come on, baby. We only have five minutes.” We rush outside the house and run as fast as we can. I can hear the brakes from the bus. It stops at the corner for a brief second, and leaves. “No! Wait!” I yell, but it’s already gone.

“Dang it!” I hiss. This whole going to school, making lunches, and then going to work thing is impossible, I swear.

“It’s okay, momma,” he says. “We can drive.”

“Okay. Let’s go,” I smile and look at the bright side. Sure, raising Aidan alone is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. It’s still a damn blessing. “I’ll race you!”

I start running and he follows after me. “Head start!” he yells. “You cheated!”

“No way!” I laugh, touching the door of the car first. “Mom wins!”

“Not fair,” he pouts. I open the door, put him in the backseat, and we head for the school.

Every single day he leaves my sight my heart breaks a little more. Seeing him grow is just about the best experience I’ve been through. But he’s getting older. He’s starting to ask questions. All of the other kids have dads. Where is his?

I can’t even answer that at this point. I thought that by now I would have heard something from him, but of course there’s just static. He left to London and never came back. Most likely, he found a job, met a beautiful woman, and pursued that as much as he could. Do I blame him? That, I can’t answer.

“Bye, mom!” he says, unbuckling his seat belt.

“Give me a kiss, Aidan.” He kisses my cheek and jumps out of the car. “I love you so much!” I say, feeling my heart expand.

Part of me feels angry with Walker. Another part of me is just confused. If I just got some clarity, I’d feel so much better about everything. I’d feel like maybe I could move on. Still, I think about him every day. I know it’s crazy. But I do.

It’s not that I still like him. It’s not even about that. He’s a part of me now. More than that, he’s a part of Aidan and he deserves to know who is dad really is. Not to mention, there’s some child support I could really use right now. The ten thousand only lasted so long. Now, with my new lower-level marketing job, I’m making half of what I used to.

Right now, Aidan’s the easiest thing about my life. I scroll through my email, looking for a certain email address from my father. He broke his hip last month and he’s not doing too well. The doctors are worried about his recovery and I keep reading horror stories about how it shaves the years right off your life.

Before I even open the email, I brace for impact. “He’s doing much better…. expect a full recovery.” The words are uplifting. My father’s going to be okay. Still, there’s more to worry about. He’s living off of his monthly government checks and can barely afford the medical expenses. He doesn’t have insurance to cover it. So, of course, I’m the one stuck with the bill.

Work is stressful enough, but it goes by a bit faster than usual. I give my presentation, receive a round of applause, and I walk into my office to pour myself a little celebratory drink. We got the account. All seems good.

A knock on my door brings me out of my celebrating mood. My boss, Jake Hyde, opens the door with a smile. “Hey, I hope I’m not interrupting. That was a great presentation.”

“Thanks, Jake,” I smile. “Would you like a celebratory drink?”

“No, I’m okay. I actually just came in to check up on you,” he says, turning more serious. “Is everything okay at home?”

“What do you mean? Everything’s fine,” I say.

He smiles again and thinks hard to himself. “Shoot, there I go again. I’m not phrasing things correctly,” he says. “I just mean, you’ve got a ton on your plate. If you need anything, just let me know, okay?”

“Thank you, Jake.” I give a forced smile.

“Okay, I’ll talk to you later then,” he says, ducking through the door. “Fantastic presentation!”

I give him a thumbs-up and sit back in my chair. Do I have lot on my plate? I sure fucking do. Jake has been trying to fuck me since I started working here. He comes into my office at least twice a day to tell me how great I’ve been working, but the whole time he just stares at my breasts. At this point, it’s become a hassle. If Walker was still around, maybe I could get him to stop.

There’s no one that I want, not even Walker. There’s no man for me because all men are shit. At least, that’s how I’m feeling right now. I slump back in my chair and close my eyes, breathing as slow as I can. The doctor says I have high blood pressure and I need to “take it easy.”

Everyone has advice for us single mothers. They don’t realize that we’re just surviving through the day. I’m waiting for that sunlight to fade, so I can lie in bed, watching my favorite television show, while the light of my life plays with his action figures on the floor. Nobody said this was going to be easy. I knew that from the get-go. There are moments of joy, however. And I don’t regret that for an instant.

When I call Renata, however, I tell her one thing only. “I need a fucking drink.”

Walker

“Now that you’ve been back for a while, do you want the chance to make some real money?” he asks me, sitting back in his high leather chair. The way he’s looking at me, I can instantly tell that there’s a catch involved. His eyes say it all.

“Money?” I laugh. “More than I was making? I came back to settle the score. That’s it, Hawk. I thought I settled it.”

He leans forward, fingers intertwined. His gold rings reflect against the light. In the ashtray in front of me is a burning cigar, directly from Cuba, no doubt.

“Walker, Walker, Walker. I thought we were friends,” he smiles. “Don’t we have a strong history together? Why are you trying to run away so soon?”

“You made me who I am today, Hawk. You gave me the confidence to start my own business,” I say. “I came back to pay my respects.”

“Yes, but I didn’t give you the permission to do it behind my back,” he says. “You know I deserve a cut of that money. Besides, do you really want to keep courting to women all your life? You need to start thinking bigger. Long term. You won’t be young forever.”

He fails to understand what I had back in America. I had millions in worth. You don’t need anymore than that. I was going to invest in property. I was saving my money so I wouldn’t have to work in ten years. However, there’s something else on my mind. Something that’s worth more than a couple of crinkled up bills.

“I met someone,” I tell him. “I’d like to get the chance to get back to her.”

“A client?” He laughs a hearty laugh. “Don’t tell me you fell in love with one of those women. That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth.”

“Not a client. This was someone different. It was organic. It was real,” I tell him. I think about the last time I saw her. She was sound asleep and smiling against her motel pillow. She was happy and I knew I would be the one to end that happiness. I’d be the one to break her precious fucking heart. A cold burning sensation fills my chest and I start to get angry. “She was everything.”

“Stop lying to yourself. Money is everything to every man. Wealth is the single route to power and you know it,” he says. “Those politicians we help come to us for our services. They know we’re the best in the business. But once you left, we received less and less calls. They fancied your business skills, Walker. You see, you hurt me more than you know.”

“That wasn’t my intention,” I say. “Anyway, where are all the other lads? Who are these young kids?”

“I sent them to various locations. Thailand, America, Germany. You know how it goes. The older ones get more opportunities, like any business. Only, they did it the right way. You, my friend, were a snake in the grass.”

I’m not going home anytime soon. He’s got me where he wants me now. “Tell me the job,” I say. “And if I do it, can I go back home?”

“We’ll talk about that later,” he says, pleased with his level of control over me. “In the meantime, we’ll discuss business only. This job I’ve been mentioning is massive.”

“Bangers? Drugs? Women? What are you importing now?” I ask him.

“There’s another group in London. Dalston, actually. Can you fucking believe it? In fucking Dalston of all places. I need you and my boy Edward to shut them down.”

“Shut them down? We never used to play those games? Why now?” I ask him, feeling my stomach sink. Violence was never my thing. I never dealt in that arena. It’s almost as if he’s putting me on the job just to dig under my skin.

“The times are changing. Can’t you see? Look around you, Walker. Look how beautiful this block has become,” he says. I glance out the window and see that he’s right. In the daytime, it’s very clear that they’ve done some work to this area. Women are outside, walking their dogs. Kids are playing in a park nearby. Their laughter can be heard all around us, even in this dingy room.

“I love to help the people. You know that about me. But, of course, that comes with some difficulties. Other groups would like to meddle in our affairs. They pay off local police officers to come and hassle us. Just this week we had one officer ask a young worker what he was doing out on the corners. We can’t have that, Walker. Someone needs to pay,” he says.

“You’ll have a full out retaliation if you do that,” I tell him. “They won’t allow it. You need to strike a deal.”

“You were always keen to deals,” he laughs. “As for me, I’m a bit old fashioned. I prefer the blunt use of force. I’m not saying we send a message. That offer has come and gone. I’m saying we shut them down for good.”

“I’m not killing anybody,” I tell him. “I won’t be a part of that.”

“Edward will go over all the details with you. I won’t take no for an answer,” he says. The door suddenly opens and a young man with a shaved head and face tattoos comes in. “Edward! There you are, my boy. Come, come. Meet Walker. He’s a dear old friend.”

I stand up and shake the chap’s hand, knowing that I just made a deal with the devil. “Nice to meet you,” I say.

“Sure thing,” he smiles. “Come with me.”

I look back at Hawk, who motions me forward. There has to be a way back to Erica. There fucking has to be. I thought I’d come out here for a year tops. Here I am, six years later, and I’m trying to put the pieces of my life back together. I’m stuck in a flat with half the money I used to have. I don’t see an escape in sight.

Edward is mean looking. He looks like he’s ready to kill. When we head to the bar area of the house, he sits down and smiles, revealing a set of gold teeth. “So, we’re partners on this thing now?” he asks. “Hawk seems to look at you like your kin. Funny thing is, I’ve never heard about you.”

“Well, I’ve never heard of you either,” I say. “So, tell me. Who the fuck are you?”

I expect him to give me a head butt to the nose or a fist to the eye socket. Instead, he just keeps on smiling. I order a pint and keep my cool, despite wanting to go home. Normally, I’d be staring out the rainy window, counting the days until I could see Erica again. I must be fucking crazy. I met a woman and fell in love with her. Maybe it’s because of the distance. Maybe I just think I love her. Either way, I need to know. I need to see her again, to feel her in my arms.

“I’m Edward Johanson. That’s all you need to know,” he says. He grabs my pint and drinks it down, fully, in one gulp.

Fucking wanker, I think to myself. “Look here, mate. I don’t fucking like you. I don’t fucking like this place. So, if we’re going to get along, you best stay out of my way.” The English in me is starting to come out more.

“You’ll like me soon enough,” he says, cryptically.

“Oh? And why’s that?” I ask him. “Because I look at you right now and I hate your face. I hate your gold teeth. I hate your shitty tattoos. I hate what you stand for.”

“You’re looking for a fight. I can see that,” he smiles. “If that’s what you fancy, I can give you that.”

“You’d lose in a second,” I say. Maybe I am looking for a fight. It would be something exciting at least. I’m so fucking depressed about everything that I feel like this world needs some shaking up. If that means lying in a gutter, bleeding out, then so be it. I don’t give any fucks anymore.

“You’re longing for something unattainable,” he says. “Whatever it is, if you help me, I can help you. You can have what you want.”

The bartender slams another drink down in front of me and I half expect him to take it. Instead, he points to it and says, “This one is yours.” I drink it faster than him, feeling the carbonation hit just right on the back of my throat. I slam the glass down and order another.

“That’s the spirit,” he says.

“How can you help me if you don’t know what it is that I want?” I ask him.

He looks around to see if anybody is listening. When he feels comfortable, he whispers, “For the right price, I can help anyone. Just don’t go running that mouth of yours or you’ll get nothing. Hawk is smart. He knows you want to leave. He’ll be keeping a sharp eye on you, but he trusts me.”

“You’re his right hand man,” I nod, starting to understand the dynamic. He’s got my old job. He’s going to take from Hawk just like I did.

“Correct, but let’s stay to the subject at hand” he says. “Whatever it is that you want, you complete this job first. Got it?”

“I can do that. But I’m not firing any guns. I’m not killing anybody,” I tell him.

“All you have to do is hold the pistol in front of your face. This isn’t fucking America. This is England, remember? They’re not going to have many pistols lying around, but you need to be able to aim. We just have to scare them a little. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“I want to go back to America. I want to change my name. I want to disappear,” I tell him. “I’ll give you whatever you want. I just need to see her again.”

He nods and lights up a fag. He inhales sharply and taps his fist against the wood bar. “Alright. I’ll help you then. See you on Monday, eh?”

“Bright and fucking early,” I tell him.

Erica. I don’t know what you’re doing right now. I don’t even know if you’re still available. All I know is that I fell in love with you that night and I fucking hate myself for leaving. I hate myself for my past. I hate myself for throwing away your number. I thought it would help you stay safe and away from me. I was so wrong.

I think about you night and day. I dream of your lips, your legs, and that beautiful, warm face. I miss it all so much, but I’m coming home soon. Just hold on a little longer.

Erica

All I hear is moaning and sharp breathing. All I feel is clawing, touching, and hard clutching. His hands run down my stomach, moving in between my legs. My thighs close around his palm and he fingers me hard. “Walker,” I moan. His cock brushes against the bottom of my wetness. I’m yearning for him so fucking bad. I need him. “Fuck me,” I whisper.

I wake up in a sweat. I feel so flustered and Aidan is yelling, “Mom!” from his room.

I feel my head. It’s hot. Like, really fucking hot. I grab the thermometer from the bathroom and place it in my mouth. “Mom!” he screams. “Mom!!”

“I’m coming!” I yell, mouth full with the thermometer. Finally, it beeps. 103 degrees. God dammit. I can’t afford to be sick right now. I only get eight sick days a year and they don’t roll over.

“Mommy,” he cries, when I open his door. “I’m sick!”

This time, I believe him. I feel his forehead still, and it’s about as hot as I am. I take his temperature next and it’s only at 101, thank God. “Oh, baby,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry mommy didn’t believe you yesterday.” I’m the worst mother in the world. I have to be, right?

“I love you so much, sweetie,” I whisper, running my hands through his hair. There is no way we can do anything today. It’s four A.M. and we definitely have the flu.

“I don’t want to go to school,” he says. He’s shivering, even under the blankets.

“You don’t have to go to school, my love,” I tell him. “Mommy will make you chicken soup and you can watch movies all day.”

“Can I play the PlayStation?” he asks, smiling. Somehow kids can always feel better when they realize they don’t have to go to school for a day. I remember how that used to feel.

“You can play the PlayStation,” I laugh. “But you still have to do your homework.”

“Oh,” he groans. He coughs and looks at me with big, sad eyes.

“Fine,” I give in, as mothers sometimes have to. “You can do it tomorrow. But don’t get it into your head that you can stay on that thing all week.” His homework today consists of drawing one relevant political cartoon, as well as one math sheet. Still, it’s enough to drag a kid down.

“I love you, mom,” he says, hugging me. I give him one Tylenol and tell him to drink all of the water that I have. His fever should clear in a day or two.

“I love you too, baby,” I kiss his forehead and tuck him back in. “Just sleep for a little while, okay?”

“Okay,” he smiles. He’s so damn cute with those freckles on his nose. They’re the same freckles I have. He has the same eyes as his father and the same exact hair type. That bastard, Walker. I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive him. I tiptoe to the doorway, so I can get myself some care, because right now I’m dying.

“Mom?” he suddenly asks.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Where’s Dad?” he asks me. His eyes dart to the floor, as if he’s asked something bad. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Aidan! Don’t be sorry,” I say. I walk back over to the bed and try to come up with something to make him feel better. I decide that the truth is better than a lie. Someday he’ll figure out what happened on his own and he’ll resent me. I don’t want that to happen. “Sometimes mommies and daddies decide to make a baby. But sometimes, they can’t stay together.”

“They do if they love the family,” he sighs.

“No, Aidan. He does love you. He…” fuck this is hard. I’m on the verge of tears, trying to explain why his dad is a complete asshole. I can’t just tell him that he came inside me and left me for good, can I? Fuck this. Fuck everything. “His mommy was sick. He had to go back to London. I miss him too, sweetie.”

“We have each other though?” he asks. “Forever?”

“Oh, baby. We’ll always have each other. We’re family. You’ll always be my baby boy,” I say. “Always.”

“Sweet dreams, Mom,” he says, closing his eyes.

“Sweet dreams.” I walk out of the room and get myself some Tylenol. I take two and head back to bed, but I can’t fathom going to sleep right now, even if it is early in the morning. I text my boss Jake and tell him that I have the flu. I apologize profusely and then walk out into the kitchen. He’ll be okay with it. He loves me over there. I just don’t enjoy feeling like he has some sort of leverage on me.

Sometimes life gets easier for me. Sometimes it just floats on by. Lately, it feels like everything has been speeding up. Renata met someone so she’s hardly ever around. I don’t have any other friends anymore, besides her. Darrin took them all away. Of course, he’s having a baby in June with his new Asian bride. I hate to be a downer, but everything is just shit. Everything, except Aidan.

But I wish he had a father to help take care of him. I wish he had someone who could take him to the park when I couldn’t. Someone who could toss a football around with him, or play with his action figures. Shit, I wish there could be someone who could compete with him on that stupid PlayStation that I hate. The whole thing just isn’t fair.

I know that Walker wasn’t the one. I shouldn’t have gone through with my fantasy. This is what I get, right? But I can’t help but think about him at night, even six years later. I see him in Aidan. I’m doomed to always be around him, and yet never be close enough to actually talk to him. All I want is to ask him, “Why didn’t you call me? Why’d you lie? You never came back for me.” I feel so desperate even saying this. I need help.

Walker

“Here’s your weapon,” Hawk says, sliding a pistol across the table. “Go ahead. Hold it in your hand. Get a feel for it. It could save your life.”

I pick it up, reluctantly and hold it in front of me, at Hawk. I envision what it would be like to fire a round straight at him. He flips his lid. “Put it down!” he screams. “Are you fucking joking me, mate?”

“Sorry,” I laugh. “Just getting a feel for it.”

“Yeah, you’re really testing my patience,” he says, turning red.

Edward jumps in and throws his arm around my shoulder. “This here’s my brother, Hawk. We’re going to kill these wankers together, massive.”

“Sure,” he says, waving him off. “I should hope so. If you don’t, there will be repercussions.”

“We hear you,” I say. “There won’t be any blunders. We’ll shut them down for good.”

“Godspeed,” he says, lighting up a cigar. “Give them hell.”

Edward and I have been over the plan nearly all day. He’ll go into the shop first, asking for a beer. They’ll serve him, although Edward stands out a little. They’ll ask him where he’s from. “London,” he’ll say. Where? They’ll ask again. “Kings Cross,” he’ll reply. “Over at Goldsmith College.”

“They’ll make me out as an art pooft,” he says. “They’ll poke fun. They’ll serve me a pint and get under our skin.”

“And that’s when I come in?” I ask.

“Guns fucking blazing,” he smiles. “Pow, pow, pow.”

I give him a sour look. “Bollocks,” I laugh. “No shooting, remember?”

“Right, right,” he nods. “Fine then. You’ll hold your gun proudly, but get ready to fight if you have to.”

“I’m ready,” I say. “I’ll do fucking anything to get home.”

“Right. To see that lady friend of yours?” he laughs. “Fuck, man. You’re off your head.”

We take a car down to London and it takes a good two hours. Once we’re in Dalston, the moon is out. It’s full tonight, which doesn’t help calm my nerves. I’m not superstitious, but I also don’t like to take chances on these things.

Erica. I’m doing this for you.

He walks into the old pub and I can hear the commotion coming from inside. One of the windows reveals the reactions from the drinkers. “Outsiders not welcome,” a sign reads inside. On the telly, Manchester is playing West Bromwich Albion. Fuck, coming here brings back memories. I hate it.

I look around me and see all the old sights. Only, so much has changed since I’ve last been back here. Suddenly, I hear the sound of glass crashing against the bar. I snap out of my nostalgia and run into the bar. I grab my pistol and keep it pointed in front of me. One of the men has Edward in a headlock, but he doesn’t see that good old Edward is reaching for his gun.

“Alright, settle down!” I scream, firing a round off into the air. That wasn’t part of the plan, but they’re the kind of people who won’t listen. Suddenly, everyone stops. The guy even lets go of Edward, who now has joined me in pointing pistols.

“Everybody against the fucking wall!” he screams, with a big smile plastered on his face.

All this just to get back to the woman I adore. Fuck, I’d do more than this if I had to. She’s worth it.

All eight of them line up against the wall. “Come on now!” Edward yells. “Show some enthusiasm. Let’s see those smiles.”

“From here on out,” I say. “This place is finished. No more dealings on the north side of Manchester. That’s our ends. I know, you’re feeling gutted right now. That’s the fucking point.”

The deal is we eliminate everyone of these bastards, but I told Edward he can’t do it as long as I’m around. I promised him ten grand to comply, so naturally he agreed. Still, he’s not about to leave the place with them on our backs. I hear him cock the damn pistol and open fire. “No!” I scream, but it’s too late. All eight of them are on the floor, crying like babies.

“Don’t worry, chap. I got them in the shins. It’s less than what they’d do to us,” he laughs. “Come now! Let’s get that money.”

We run into the back, where a tall safe is. He blasts it open and grabs all of the money. “One hundred large,” he smiles. “Beautiful.”

We’re out of there within two minutes and we jump in the car. I’m almost home. I’m so close I can taste it. The warm breeze. The feeling of freedom beneath my feet. Fuck, it’s all I want.

She’s all I want, dammit.

Erica

“Look.” Renata sits me down, while Aidan runs around her house. Her new boyfriend is at work, allowing me some time with my old friend. “You can’t stay hung up on the guy. He was here and now he’s gone. Sometimes, that’s just how it works out. That’s life, Erica.”

I hate when she says my name in that way of hers, like she knows better than me. She’s made some okay choices, but so did I. At least, at one point I did.

“Ren, I know that he’s not coming back. That’s not the point,” I tell her. “You try having a child with someone who runs out on you and tell me you don’t wish someone would help out every now and then. It’s been so damn hard. I hate even admitting that to you. It’s so embarrassing.”

She moves next to me and begins massaging my shoulders and tickling her fingers down my back. I close my eyes and relax a little. “You have me,” she smiles. “I’ll always be there to help my best friend out. You know that, right?”

“Thank you,” I say. “I mean it. It means a lot to us.”

“Mom, look!” Aidan says, running wildly with one of his action figures. He makes a loud explosion noise with his mouth and presses a button on the back of the figure. Small missile-like plastic pieces come shooting out of it.

“Wow, Aidan!” I exclaim, trying to be supportive. I’ve never liked my child playing with guns, or anything related to them, but I feel like right now I need to be supportive. He knows something is off in me and he’s been talking about his dad a lot. Too many questions are going unanswered.

“I see Walker in him,” I admit. “It’s almost impossible not to. He’s in Aidan’s nose and his hair. Sometimes, I even hear it in his voice, weirdly enough.”

“Aidan is speaking British?” she asks me.

I laugh a little. “Okay, maybe not his voice. But you understand. He needs a father figure in his life,” I say.

“You’re a strong woman,” she squeezes my arms. “You don’t need a man in your life. Don’t let that myth penetrate your mind like that. You got this, girl.”

“Ren, he’s been asking a lot of questions. He’s growing so goddamn fast. He’s a million times more intuitive than I am,” I say. “I don’t know what to tell him. I can’t tell him that his father is some British guy with an odd job who left me before I could tell him I was pregnant. The whole thing is just so stupid.”

“An escort,” she corrects me.

“He wasn’t an escort,” I groan. “He provided services, other than sex.”

“You know what I mean,” she gives me a knowing eye. “I mean, I can’t pretend I wasn’t curious. If you didn’t have such a thing with him, I’d have probably called him.”

We both stare at each other for a few seconds, with serious looks on our faces. Then, out of nowhere, we realize the hilarity of the situation. We both start cracking up, laughing incredibly loud.

“What’s so funny?” Aidan asks, across the hall.

“Nothing, sweetie. Your mom made a little joke,” Renata snorts.

“Yeah, the joke is my life,” I whisper, giggling still.

“Whatever, that’s the point of living,” she says. “Seriously, if life wasn’t so embarrassing, you’d never push yourself to move forward. Trust me on this. In five years, you’ll look back and realize you did everything you should have done. You brought Aidan into this world. Beautiful, charming, handsome Aidan. That’s your kid, girl! Look how happy he is, right now.”

We both turn and look at Aidan, who’s now humming to himself, still idly playing with his toys. He’s got the biggest smile on his face that pulls on my heartstrings.

“You’re right,” I tell her. “He’s not coming back and that’s not a bad thing. If he did ever come back, I would just… well, I’d kick him in the shin!”

“You’re damn right!” She claps her hands onto her thighs. “And his balls too!”

“You’re twisted,” I laugh.

“Sadistic.” She shrugs. “I just want to look out for you, baby. You’re my girl to the end.”

“I love you, Ren. I’m so lucky to have you as a friend,” I smile. “I feel like my luck is about to turn around. Like, I really feel it inside my bones.”

“That’s because it is. This is your time. Now, own it,” she says.

It’s funny how one thing can sort of set you free. One phrase, one small action, one word even can make you feel like you’re about to change your whole life around. It starts with your outlook, I guess.

Walker isn’t coming back and that’s okay. In the end, I don’t want him back in my life anyway. The whole thing was weird to begin with. The boyfriend experience? I mean, come on. Give me a break. The whole thing is cheesy.

I take Aidan home and give a sigh of relief. “Mom?” he asks me. “You’re happy aren’t you?”

“I am, baby,” I smile. “I’m really happy?”

“You’re not sick anymore?” he asks. He got over his flu faster than I did.

“No, sweetie-pie. I’m feeling better than ever,” I tell him. No more sadness. No more feeling down. From this day forward, I promise I’ll make the most of my life because, all in all, I have it fucking made.

Walker

All it takes is some extra cash, a fake passport, and an alias change to really start your new life out right. A plane ride and a few scotches later, and I’m home, back in America. The sun is shining and there’s no shitty flats in sight. I don’t have a home yet, but I have an account open in my new name and all my money is waiting patiently for me in there.

Life is good. Well, it will be once I talk to her. The thing is, I’ve been outside her place for hours, just waiting for the right moment to come in. I can’t bring myself to do it. She comes outside at around 1PM to check the mail and my heart starts pumping my blood full of endorphins. It’s enough to make my head spin. The hairs rise up around my body and I feel this intense passion for her. I’ve never felt this way before. It’s completely debilitating.

She’s more beautiful than I remember. In six years, I think she’s gone down in age. It’s unsettling because I can’t help but need her even more than I did before I left. I can’t bear to knock on her door. What would I say? “Hey, remember me? Remember the guy who left you high and dry?”

No, I can’t see her. Not yet, at least. It’s too soon. I’m too fucking nervous. God, I can’t believe I’m even saying something so absurd. I turn the key in my ignition and I speed out of the picturesque neighborhood. When I get back to my apartment, I fall down on my mattress and look around at the empty room I’m currently stuck in.

At least she’s not with anybody. Oddly enough, her life seems about the same as it did when I left. That’s a good thing, but I wonder if she hates me. Another part of me wonders whether or not she forgot about me completely.

The whole time I was in England, I was forced to do work that was unsatisfying and often times had to be dealt with a level of caution. My life became a tunnel of darkness. I had nowhere to run, no one to talk to, and no one I could depend on. There was only Hawk, my boss, and the scariest man I’ve ever come to know. I’m lucky he didn’t torture me when I arrived.

Erica was my only guiding light. I thought about her every single day and night. When I slept, I could only dream about her. It seems almost impossible that someone could fall in love so hard after one night. I could barely believe it myself. But when it happens to you, it’s the only thing you want to latch onto. Life becomes banal. It turns into an utter bore. And if you’re denied that love by outside forces, you want nothing more but to tear away what’s holding you back.

Hawk is on the peripheral right now, but he won’t be lost forever. It’s only a matter of time until Edward talks to Hawk and tells him what happens. Money only goes so far, for so long. Protection doesn’t last forever unless you keep making payments.

But I’m not afraid of him right now. After six years of being back home, I’m used to getting chased down and avoiding absolute danger. Now, the only thing I’m afraid of is whether or not the love of my life will take me back. If she doesn’t, I don’t know what I’ll do. I’ll lose it. I’ll go completely insane.

As sad as it is, seeing her today for one measly second was the most exciting thing that’s happened to me in a long time. She’s the apple of my eye. She’s like the first sun after a long winter. She makes me have hope again. I have to keep fighting for her. It’s the only thing keeping me going.

Erica

“I don’t have to go to school, right? I can stay home with you again, Mom,” Aidan smiles, showing off his small, white teeth. He’s not going to win with me today. He’s going to school. As for me, Jake has demanded that I stay home another day. Apparently he’s a real germaphobe, which is fine by me. I can work on the new accounts at home, anyway.

“You’re going to school, mister. You’re going to like it too!” I reach out and start tickling him wildly and he screams, trying to get out of my grasp. “This is what happens to bad little boys! They suffer the wrath of getting tickled to death!” I laugh wildly.

“Okay! Okay! I’ll go to school. I’m sorry!” he squeals. I stop ticking him and he rolls across the carpet, breathing quickly. “I want to see Sam, anyway. I miss my friends.”

“Well, there you go,” I walk toward the car and he follows behind. When we’re in the driveway, I can’t help but notice a minivan parked near our house. There are almost never any cars in this neighborhood that I don’t recognize, but it’s not that weird I suppose. Still, like the mom I am, I usher Aidan into the car. “Come on baby, get in the car. We’re going to be late.”

At school, he jumps out almost immediately. “Bye Mom!” he says, running full speed toward the door. I don’t even get a kiss goodbye, but it’s okay. He’s growing up so damn fast. It’s really shocking to see. I’m just glad he’s excited about going to school for once.

When I get home, there’s that minivan parked in front of my house. A man in a grey hoodie is staring back at me and it’s so odd because he’s got a familiar air to him. I can barely even see him, but it’s like looking at the ghost of someone I once knew.

I try to ignore it and walk inside, but I just keep staring out of the window. I figure, if this guy doesn’t leave my neighborhood in one hour, I’m going to call the police. There’s no reason for someone to sit outside of someone’s home for that long.

Of course, after about ten minutes, I can’t control myself. My curiosity gets the best of myself. I walk outside with my phone in my hands and yell, “Hello? Do you need something?” It’s as nice as I can ask, before shouting, “I’ll call the police if you sit near my driveway!”

It’s totally irrational of me and I know it, but that doesn’t stop me from actually doing it. Still, he’s just sitting there, head facing directly at me, shielded by the tint of the minivan. Finally, I walk up to the window and knock on it. “Hello? Do you hear me? I’m calling the police!”

He rolls down the window, but he’s faced away from me. And then I hear his voice. It’s deep. It’s familiar. It’s… “Erica?” he asks. Fuck. This can’t be possible. No, it’s definitely impossible. What the hell is going on here? Did someone slip something into my water this morning?

“Walker?” I say his name as if none of this is real. I must be stuck in a dream, I reason with myself. What other explanation is there?

“Before you say anything, I just want to say that I’m sorry. I—”

Oh, fuck this. “You bastard!” I smack his arm from inside the vehicle. “You complete douchebag! You think you can just come back to me after six years?”

I wait for his answer. I’ve been waiting for this response for, well, six years now. At this point, it feels like a lifetime of waiting. The reality starts to come into full scope. Aidan. What in God’s name am I going to tell my little boy? Surprise, baby. Your daddy has decided to come home after all! Fuck. No.

“You don’t understand what my life has been like over there,” he says. “If you did, you wouldn’t be slapping my arm right now. Come now. Listen.”

“I don’t want to listen,” I tell him, tears about to fall down my face. I thought things were supposed to be good from now on. I thought I was going to have a break from all this shit. Of course, right when I start to feel better about everything, tragedy comes into my life yet again.

“I just want to turn back time. I wish I never met you, Walker. I’m sorry to say that because it sounds so harsh coming from my mouth. But it’s the god honest truth. You’ve completely fucked me up,” I admit.

I turn around and head back toward the house. He jumps out of the van, in an attempt to stop me. All I can think about is Aidan. How’s he going to feel about all of this? Not to mention, Walker has no idea I have a fucking kid. Once he finds out, he’s going to leave. That might be for the best, honestly. I don’t think I want him around. He’s not exactly a picture-perfect father figure.

“Wait,” he says, touching my shoulder. The hairs on my skin start to rise and for a second, my body betrays me. I grow wet. Images flash across my eyes. I see and feel his hands around my body. His mouth is around my wetness. He’s sucking on me like he’s loving every second of it. And then I feel him cum inside me and everything takes a turn for the worse.

I should have known that the condom broke. How could I not have felt it? I’m such a fucking idiot. I should have taken a morning after pill. I keep all the blame directed at me, despite the fact that it’s not all my fault. In the end, it’s him who wouldn’t pull out. It’s him who decided to leave the next day. I can’t let myself take all of the blame. Not forever, anyway.

“What do you want, Walker?” I turn back around, at the foot of my door. Inside, if he looked, he’d find a bunch of action figures, scattered across the floor. He’d see Aidan’s room, complete with dinosaur bed sheets. He’d see both our cereal bowls, half empty with cheerio’s inside. He wouldn’t understand. He just wouldn’t.

“I…” he stops himself and gulps down. “I love you, Erica,” he says. “I’ve been thinking about you every single night over there. It’s been so horrible. I vowed to myself that I’d come back and find you, that I’d get you back somehow.”

“Yeah?” I look at him and my heart expands and contracts. It hurts to see him like this. He looks so honest. Yet, how can I believe someone that tricked me into a life I never asked for?

No. I can’t do it. I just can’t. “Well, you can go back to London, or wherever it is you were. I don’t believe that your mother was dying. I don’t even believe you’re who you say you are. In fact, I don’t really give a damn what the truth is. I just want you to stay away from me. Do you hear me? Just stay away!”

Here I am, full on crying and he’s just staring at me with his own set of tears in his eyes. Only, he doesn’t let them fall. He holds them back as much as he can. I can see in his eyes that he’s not done fighting for me and that only makes me feel sicker. I need him to answer me, truthfully. Why didn’t he ever call? But I can’t manage to actually ask him.

“I’ll do anything you ask,” he says, finally. “Even if that means staying away from you. I’m sorry. You have to believe me.”

“I’m sorry too,” I tell him. “But that doesn’t mean we should be together.”

“You’re right. Maybe I fucked it all up,” he says. “If you ever want to talk, here’s my number.” He gives me a piece of paper with a number scribbled on it.

“No more boyfriend experience?” I ask him, out of the blue.

“No. That part of me is over. It was stupid, anyway. It’s really embarrassing to think about,” he says. “Anyway, goodbye, Erica. You look more beautiful than I remember.”

He turns around and heads back to the rental van. I have no words, only the world’s most complex maelstrom of emotions. It takes everything in me not to fall down on my knees and weep. Right now, everything seems like a false reality. I hold his number in front of my face and it seems hollow.

“Goodbye, Walker,” I manage to say. If I was to tell the truth, it would come out like, “I miss you. More than you know.”

Walker

There’s nothing here for me anymore. She’s moved on and I wasted too much time back in England. Hawk made sure that I would never want to come back here. He probably even anticipated me leaving. So be it. I’m stuck here now, in this empty apartment, with my broken heart.

The only thing now is to pick up the pieces of my life and try to move on. I never used to get hung up on women. That wasn’t part of the deal. I was supposed to be unattached, yet unavoidable. Of course, just seeing her was enough to make me go insane.

She never asked me why I didn’t call her, though I’m not sure what I would have told her in the first place. “My mother passed in my arms,” I could lie. But it all seems so fucking wrong. No, I should have told her the truth, that I never grew up in London, that I was a child born in the northern streets of England. I should have told her about the debts I owed and what it might take to be released from them.

Hawk won’t release me. That’s the punch line of the fucking joke. And I know that far away, he’s waiting for me to make one mistake that’ll alert him of my exact location. When that happens, there will be fireworks. It’ll come down to me and Hawk, settling the score, once and for all. Let’s just say I’m not too excited for that day.

It’s been three days since she let me down hard. Three whole fucking days in hell. My head is still spinning, heart still aching, and I keep pushing myself to fall asleep so I can dream of us together again.

When my phone never rings, I eventually have to force myself to get out of bed so I can get some fresh air. I can’t keep living the way I’ve been living because of her. It’s been a long while since I’ve done any type of workout. I figure that’s the best thing for me to dive into right now, besides the loads of alcohol I have tucked away in my pantry. I leave my lonely apartment and go on a run.

I don’t stop, until my body nearly shuts down. No, I’m not stopping for anybody. The wind whips around my face. I breathe in the cool, morning air. My feet hit the pavement, but when I close my eyes for a brief second, a soccer ball nearly ends my life.

“Watch out!” I hear a young voice yell. I open my eyes and it hits me square in the face. Nice wakeup call, I suppose.

“Sorry!” a young boy smiles.

“It’s no problem,” I mutter, bending down to grab the ball. I smile and hand the young lad the ball. “Training for the world cup?” I laugh.

The boy keeps his distance once he has the ball. Am I really that frightening? “Mom says I can’t talk to strangers,” he says.

“Good. Listen to your mom,” I tell him. Talking to strangers is what got me into this mess years ago. If I ran away from Hawk when I was younger, maybe none of this would have ever happened. Maybe I would be at this park, watching my boy play on the swing set while I read the morning paper and drink my coffee from a thermos. I smile to myself because it’s a warm thought.

I watch as the boy runs back to his mother. For a second, I brace myself to continue my run, but when I see her face, I have to stop myself. Erica. Shit. She’s stunned when she sees me too. It’s a mixture of repulsion and curiosity. How the hell did I manage to run into this woman… again?

“Erica?” I blurt out.

That can’t be her kid. That would be impossible, right? When I left her, she was on her way to being an independent woman, free of her ex-husband’s grasp. She was ready to start a new life. She was excited. She must’ve take on a job as being a nanny. Besides, the child looks nothing like her.

She pats the kid’s back and he runs off, hitting his soccer ball around with some friends. She walks toward me and nods. “Hi,” she says. “I didn’t know you went on runs around here.”

I shrug and smile, so happy to hear her speak again. It’s a fucking miracle. “It’s as good a place as any,” I say. “Anyway, I didn’t mean to run into you, if that’s what you were thinking.”

“No,” she says, taking a deep breath. “I’m sure you didn’t.”

This is already off to a rocky start. I shouldn’t have left the apartment. I knew it was a bad idea. The best thing for me to do right now is move back to England and give myself up to Hawk. He’ll chop my fingers off, no doubt, but at least I won’t embarrass myself like this anymore.

There’s a long and awkward pause from both of us, but she breaks it after a few seconds, to my surprise. “So, how’ve you been?” she asks me.

“Managing,” I say, but that’s not exactly the full truth of the matter. “Well, if I’m being honest, it’s been pretty bollocks. I don’t do much now that I’m back.”

“Bollocks,” she pokes fun at me.

“Rubbish,” I laugh. “Absolute rubbish.”

“You miss England,” she says it as a statement, but in that way that lets me know it’s really a question.

“I hate England,” I admit. “I never should have gone back there. It was a dreadful idea.”

“Your mother. You had to, right?” she looks away from me, clearly hurt by the whole thing. I want to reach out and comfort her. I want to touch her arm and calm her down. I want to tell her that everything is alright and will be better, that I could make it up to her. Instead, I say nothing. It’s in these pivotal moments that the options seem to dwindle down and acting on anything seems almost impossible.

“Yes, my mother,” I lie. I want to tell her the fucking truth. What is wrong with me? Why am I hiding everything from her? For her protection? Yes, I suppose it’s partly that. The other part of me is too afraid of her reaction to the whole thing. She’ll feel gutted. Betrayed. More so than she already does now.

“You’re a nanny now?” I ask her. “Or are you just babysitting for a friend?”

She gives a hurried look over her shoulder at the boy playing soccer with his friends. She frowns and says, “Yeah, a friend. She works a lot.”

“Listen,” I say, “I’m not that same man you met. I’m better than he was. I want the chance to at least prove it to you.”

“It’s not a good idea, Walker,” she says. “I mean, the whole thing from the get go was absurd. I was just playing out a fantasy with you. The boyfriend experience. That’s all I was getting from you.”

Hearing those words hurts. A lot. I didn’t realize she was just like all the other women. I thought she was different. I thought she might have wanted something more. Shit, when did I become so fucking sappy? What have I become?

“Let me cook you dinner,” I say. “The boyfriend experience is over and done with, but maybe I can make one exception.”

Her heels bounce against the grass. She’s hardly making eye contact with me. Still, I know she wants to say yes. I know that it’s her pride that’s saying no to me. She wants someone. I know she does. “Walker, I—”

“One date and I’ll be out of your life forever,” I say. “I promise. Just give me one date.”

She sighs and looks down at the ground, heavy in thought. “One date? That’s it?” she asks.

“That’s it. And I’ll be gone. I’ll go back to fucking England if you want me to,” I say. She thinks about the offer and I hold my pinky out for her. “Pinky swear.”

“Pinky swear? You know that’s the strongest promise there is, right?” she smiles a little and it sends shivers down my spine. My cock starts to rise uncontrollably and my face turns warm. I want you, woman. I want to tie you down and fuck the life out of you. I want to feel your warm skin against mine, that aching, punishing, obsession, and the happiness that comes after those feelings.

“That’s why I’m doing it. I won’t break my promise to you,” I say. “I swear on my life.”

She bounces high on her heels, but comes down to a full halt. She looks at me for a good five seconds, long enough to get my heart going. Those beautiful eyes. Those light freckles on her cheeks. Fuck, I’m spinning.

“Alright,” she says, quickly wrapping her pinky around mine. “It’s a deal. But afterward, you have to leave me alone.”

“I’ll never leave my apartment,” I tell her. Excitement soon washes over me. I’m bathing in the best of emotions. She said yes. She actually said yes!

“Give me your phone,” she says. “Here’s my number in case you forget where I live.”

“I remember,” I say.

“Right. Of course you do,” she laughs. “You were stalking me long enough to get it imprinted in your brain, right?”

I have to laugh at myself. I’m fucking out of my mind. But sometimes, when you’re that madly in love with someone, you do some crazy shit. “Sorry,” I say.

“I get it. You had to see me,” she says.

“I did,” I tell her.

“Tomorrow then,” she says, walking away.

Erica

Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck! He had to come back. He had to see me with Aidan. He even talked to him. This is so beyond bad.

But when I saw him at the park yesterday, something was still there. Inside of me, I felt the desire slowly creep in my body. After six years of being gone, he’s managed to keep himself in better shape than when he left. Looking at his body gets my panties wet. Hearing his voice sends me reeling.

Now, it’s only an hour before he’s supposed to come over and I have no idea what to do. Once he steps foot into this house, he’ll know the truth. He’ll know that Aidan is my son. Pretty soon after, he’ll put it all together. He’ll realize he’s a dad.

“Aidan, baby, tonight is a special night for Mommy. She’s having a friend come over,” I tell him, feeling sick to my stomach. “So, can you stay in your room and finish your homework?”

“Why can’t I be with you?” the little detective in him starts to come out. “Is Renata coming over? I like Renata.”

“No, it’s not Renata. Remember the man from the park?” I ask him, gently.

“The stranger? I thought you told me not to talk to strangers,” he says.

“Yes, but he’s not a stranger. I’ve known him for a long time,” I say. He’s your father. He’s your daddy. He fucked me and left, only to return six years later. Surprise. “You can play PlayStation if you finish your homework fast.” Bribery. It’s the only thing that works on kids.

“Deal!” He smiles and runs to his room to finish all of his homework as fast as he can.

I still don’t know what I’m going to tell Walker. On the outside, I hate his guts. But I’ve been secretly wishing he would come back for years. There’s so much I wanted to ask him. I even had fantasies of cussing him out for leaving me all alone with a son to raise. Now, that seems insane. I can’t just tell him. The whole thing is just so fucking complicated.

And Aidan is a blessing. No, he’s an angel. He’s so perfect in every way. I always wished he had a daddy. I can tell he wants one so bad. Someone to throw the ball with, to watch way too violent movies with… I can picture it. I didn’t expect Walker to come back. Maybe it won’t be such a cluster fuck when he gets here.

The doorbell rings right after I’ve cleaned the whole house. Only problem is, I look like total shit. I’ve got an old pair of jeans on, complete with a Motley Crüe band t-shirt I bought in college. “Coming!” I yell.

My hand touches the doorknob and my mind is racing. I take one last look and I don’t see any toys lying around. Aidan is quietly working in his bedroom. Oh, God, this is all such a bad idea.

I open the door slowly and peek my head out. “Welcome,” I manage to say. Welcome? “Come in.”

It’s sickening how good he looks right now. He walks in holding a giant bouquet of flowers, bottle of red wine, and a couple grocery bags of food. “My God, you’re beautiful,” he says, kissing my cheek. My body tenses up and then I smell his cologne. Fuck, he smells so good. It’s his smell. I miss it so much.

“Thank you.” I blush. “You look okay, too.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he laughs. “These are for you, darling.”

He hands me the flowers and I put them up to my nose and smell the arrangement. I hate to admit it, but they’re beautiful. They look so fresh, as if they were just picked today. He must have spent a fortune on them, not to mention the food and wine. No, I tell myself. Don’t fall for his charm again. You know what happens when you do, Erica.

“You have a beautiful home,” he says, as we walk into the kitchen. “Is it okay if I grab some pans and get to chopping? I bet we can finish half this bottle of Merlot while the meat simmers.”

“That sounds nice,” I tell him. My mind darts back to Aidan and I start to feel that familiar melancholic feeling creep inside my body. I think he can sense it because he comes around me and starts to massage my shoulders. “Come on, Walker. Don’t.”

“Sorry,” he says, taking his hands off. “You just seem a little tense is all.”

Tense? Are you kidding me? You don’t even know what tense is, guy. Try raising a kid on your own for five years and talk to me about tense. “Yeah, maybe a little. Rough week at the office.”

“I understand,” he smiles, chopping up a large onion. Somehow, he manages not to shed a single tear while doing it. It’s just another thing I resent him for. “This is going to be the best pasta you’ve ever tasted. Guaranteed.”

I’ve opened the bottle of wine and poured two glasses. I quickly take a big gulp for myself and pour some more in. He watches me with careful eyes, though he doesn’t say anything. “A Brit making the best pasta I’ve tasted? You know I’ve been to Italy, right?”

“I’ve taken a handful of cooking classes. This is something I pride myself on,” he laughs. “No, really. This one is special.”

I toss him a strawberry-colored apron and I watch as he carefully ties it around his perfect waist. His biceps bulge as he moves his arms behind his back, and when he starts the actual cooking, it’s hard not to look on with lust.

With the beef simmering and the sauce on a low heat, he comes back across the bar of my kitchen and sits next to me. “So, I know you hate me,” he starts, “but you don’t know how good it feels to be back here, with you. To be next to you… God, it’s like an early Christmas present. I feel so fucking blessed.”

It feels good for me too, obviously. I haven’t felt the presence of a man like him in so fucking long. In fact, this is the first time I’ve had any men over. “I don’t hate you,” I say. “I just don’t understand it.”

“Understand what?” he asks me, sipping on his wine. “Why I left?”

“No, it’s not that,” I sigh. Okay, it’s time to ask him what I’ve been wanting to ask him for years. “Why didn’t you call me? You said you would call me.” I feel choked up even asking him. I breathe through my nose slowly, trying to keep the tears at bay. As a mother, I’ve managed to become an expert at this.

“You’re right,” he says. “I fucked up. I didn’t know how to find you again. I lost all of my contacts when I went overseas, but it’s no excuse. I should have called.”

“You don’t understand,” I say. “You can’t begin to understand.”

I let a few tears fall from my eyes. There’s no use in holding back. He places his warm, strong hand against my cheek. He moves it up into my hair and I feel his fingers run through the thick strands. “Try and make me understand. Teach me to understand,” he says. But he has no idea. He doesn’t know about Aidan and how hard it’s been to give him a decent life. I’m always at work. He needed someone to be there for him and all he had was me.

“I—” The words are impossible to get out. I’m so close to telling him the truth about my situation, but it’s so hard to let myself do it.

“Tell me,” he says, gazing into my eyes. I’m still struggling, so I close my eyes. I allow myself to get calm and then I open my eyes and I do the unthinkable.

I let my body direct me. With tears streaming down my face, I feel gravity pull me. My lips crush against his. I smell him, I taste him, oh fuck how I’ve missed him. I pull away and open my eyes.

“I want to tell you something,” I say, choking on my words. “But it’s not going to pretty. It hasn’t been pretty for me, quite frankly.”

“I’m all ears,” he says, opening his eyes, in a daze. “Tell me anything.”

“The boy,” I choke even harder. “The boy you met yesterday.”

His eyebrows rise with confusion. “Your friend’s child? The little bloke?”

“The little bloke,” I repeat. “That little ball of sunshine…”

Fuck, why is this so hard to say? Why can’t I just come out with it?

“What about him?” he backs away a little, which makes it even harder to spit out. The beef starts to burn. I can smell it. But he’s not turning away from this. He knows something serious is happening. He probably knows exactly what I’m going to say, but does he know Aidan is his son too?

“He’s my son,” I cry. “He’s my son. He’s my son. He’s my beautiful boy.”

He pulls his hand away from my hair. He’s startled. It’s obvious. Men are always like this when they find out the consequences of their actions. “You met someone else after me?” he asks. It’s not registering for him. “Who was it? No, forget I even asked. It’s not like I’d know him anyway.”

“That’s all you have to say?” I ask him.

“I don’t mind that you have a son. I just wish you would have told me,” he says.

“You wish I would’ve told you? What? Am I supposed to tell you everything that’s happened in the last six years, in full detail? Mind you, you didn’t even bother to fucking call me once when you were over there!” I yell.

“Mom?” Aidan asks from his room. I close my eyes hard, as if that’ll solve all of my problems. Just shut it all out, dammit.

“Mommy’s okay, baby! Sorry for yelling,” I say. Walker looks at the hallway to his room and then back at me.

“Wait a minute,” he says. “How old is he?”

“He’s five years old,” I tell it to him straight. “He grows faster every day.”

He moves out of his chair and runs his hand through his hair, pacing the kitchen. “You’re lying,” he says. “You must be lying.”

“I’m not lying, Walker,” I say. “You shouldn’t have come back.”

“The boy,” he says, staring at me with a look that’s both angry and sad. “I left six years ago!”

“You did,” I say.

“He’s mine, isn’t he?” he asks, keeping a fixed gaze on me. “No. It’s impossible. We were safe. I remember it.”

“Condoms break,” I tell him. “Shit happens. Life happens. And then you get left with everything beautiful and awful, all at once.”

He moves toward me again. “I wish I had known,” he says. “Fuck, what have I done?”

“What have you done?” I get pissed. “You brought the most beautiful little boy into this world. But don’t you worry. I don’t expect you to stick around. I don’t want you as his father, anyway.”

“You can’t just kick me out of his life like this,” he says. “I didn’t know. I had no way of knowing. Let me see him.”

He starts walking toward the hallway. “Don’t you dare!” I tell him. “That isn’t your right. You can’t just walk into my home and do whatever you like.” The beef is completely burnt. The sauce has turned into a goopy, hardened mess. The pasta is way past done. I turn off all the heat and angrily run after him.

It’s too late. Aidan hears that something is going on outside and he gets curious. “What are you weirdos doing out here?” he asks, walking out into the hallway. Walker and I stop and I’m just staring at him, wondering if the world is about to implode on me.

“Hey there, big guy!” Walker says, kneeling down. “Remember me?”

“Yes,” he says, glancing at me to see if it’s okay. I can’t even react. The whole situation was doomed to begin with. I should have never allowed him into my home, but I had to tell him.

“What’s your name?” Walker asks Aidan.

“Aidan and I’m five years old,” he says.

“Five?!” Walker exclaims. “Man, you’re an old bugger, aren’t you?”

“I’m not old!” Aidan laughs. “I’m just a kid!”

“Well, I don’t know. You look old to me,” he says. “Have you been taking care of your mom well?”

“Yes. And I finished all of my homework so I can play video games all night. It’s allowed,” he says.

Walker cocks his head at me. “Kids this young play video games now?”

I shrug, feeling utterly defeated. “They do a lot of crazy shit,” I say.

“Mom!” Aidan yells, angrily. “You owe a dollar to the swear jar.”

“Okay, sweetie. I’m sorry.” I fake a smile and pull out a dollar. It’s been done. Walker has found his way to Aidan and of course, he’s doing a bang-up job. That’s not the point, though. The point is, he can’t just keep doing what he wants without asking me first. This is my boy. I raised him with my own hands and he came out of me. I went through nine months of hell to get him here, all by myself. I deserve a little respect.

Walker stands up and turns to me. “He looks just like me,” he whispers.

My eyes widen. “Please,” I whisper. “Don’t tell him. It’s not fair for you to let him know.”

“I want to be here,” he whispers. “I deserve to be here. I want to help you. I have money. Let me help.”

“Just. Stop. For a second, please,” I say. I turn back to Aidan. “Go back to your room, baby. Okay?”

“Okay,” he shrugs

“Nice to meet you, Aidan!” Walker calls out with a big smile.

Aidan waves and runs into his room, stomping. Walker turns to me and I’ve got all the rage in the world right now, though it’s not all his fault. I brought him over here. I knew what might probably happen. I think maybe, just maybe I wanted it to happen. I don’t know anymore.

“I’m so sorry, Erica,” he says. “You don’t know how badly I wanted to come home all these years. I never had the chance. I couldn’t find a way.”

“You could have called. You could have written. You had options. I didn’t have shit. I wasn’t given the same choices. I had to carry a fucking baby inside me for nine months by myself. Do you know how that felt? Do you even care?” I’m shaking. I’m livid. I just want to make the pain go away, but it’s incredibly hard to let it all go.

“I can’t imagine what you went through. I don’t intend to justify my actions. I was wrong. I was so fucking wrong, Erica,” he says. “But I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to end up in London again. That was the worst six years of my life. I’m here now. I’m with you.”

He walks toward me, slowly. He places his hand around my waist. I gulp down, feeling my body betray me as always. I get flashbacks from that first night, in the women’s room, together. It was so wrong, yet so exciting. He was so charming and wild, and dangerous. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted him, but I wanted to experience something different. God, those were different times. I miss it so much.

I think that’s why I accept what’s about to happen. That kiss earlier. I’ve been searching for something as warming as that and he has too. “Did you have any women over there?” I ask him. “Tell me the truth. I’m done being angry.”

He frowns. “I didn’t have anything worthwhile over there. No women. No vices. Just heartache and pain. I just dreamed of you the whole time and getting back to where I was,” he says. “I swear, Erica. Some nights, I would lay in bed and I could smell your scent. To this day, I remember the way you felt, the way you talked, the scent of your perfume. God, I’ve missed you. Don’t you miss me?”

“Yes, but… it’s so fucking hard, Walker. I can’t trust you anymore,” I say.

“Do you trust me right now?” he asks, hand sliding down the front of my jeans. I’m wet. So fucking wet. I haven’t felt this way in years. I tremble with passion, with fear, and with the understanding that this is all so wrong, and yet, I can’t turn away.

“No,” I whisper. “I don’t trust you.”

His fingers spread my wetness around my clit. He slowly moves two fingers inside of me, massaging against my g-spot. “Good,” he whispers.

Our lips meet and everything just feels so fucking good. His free hand moves toward my breasts and with such wild passion, he grabs them, while kissing me tenderly. “I want to be inside you again,” he growls. “I want to fuck you senseless.”

The whole thing scares me, I’ll admit. But that’s where the excitement comes in. He slides the button on the front of my jeans through the hole. It pops out. I do the same for him. Only the two zippers are standing in the way of us now, but when I look at where we are, I have to rethink everything. Mom problems…

“Come,” I say, putting my finger to his lips. “Shh…”

I pull him into my bedroom, down the other end of the hallway, and hurriedly lock the door behind us. He slams my back against the wall and rips my jeans off. I slip out of my shirt and watch as he undresses himself. He quickly comes back to me sliding his fingers back inside me, finger-fucking me against the wall.

“You bastard,” I moan, closing my eyes. “You son of a bitch.”

“Let it all out,” he says. “Because I’m the son of a bitch who’s going to make you squirm.”

“Fuck,” I moan, looking down at him. He’s got me balanced against the wall and he’s waiting for my pussy.

“Give me that cunt,” he says with a filthier mouth than I remember him having.

He wraps his mouth around me and kisses my wetness. I’m fucking throbbing. I’m angry. And I’m ready to unleash all of my pent-up rage and melancholic fury. I’ve been wound so tight these last few years. I haven’t had an orgasm in years, but feeling his whole mouth around me and seeing his strong body hold me against the wall, while I sit on his fucking face, turns me on to no end.

There’s no point in dragging this out. This is as raw as it can get. I feel his tongue slide all around my pussy and my ass, and I just let it all go. I’m aching and it feels like pins and needles all around my body. Soon, it becomes all the more intense. It’s so intense that I can’t hold it down. “I’m going to cum,” I whisper. “Oh, fuck me.”

“You taste so fucking sweet,” he says. That’s the line that nearly shoots me out of my body.

I can barely hold on, but he’s got me in his grasp. My body shakes and my pussy is contracting and expanding at an alarming rate. Fireworks shoot in my eyes, my heart explodes, and ecstasy radiates throughout.

I can feel his cock against my leg. When he picks me up in his arms, I’m ready for him. He crushes his lips against mine and holds me tenderly, like I’m his one and only. I’ve missed the warmth he once gave me, even if it was so fleeting. He’s so strong and powerful, and he says, “I’m with you, always.” I don’t know what to believe. Right now, I just want to fall into him, over and over again.

“Just breathe,” he whispers.

I feel him enter me. He just holds me in his arms, while standing. Both hands are tight around my waist. I clutch around his neck and kiss his warm face. I close my eyes and feel him, thick and way too big for me. But he keeps pushing, until he’s deep inside.

It feels amazing.

I’m selfishly devoted to his cock as I start to block out everything that has happened between us. There’s anger, sadness, and pain, but right now, I need some relief. I need him. I gyrate my hips all around his thickness. I’m dripping around his shaft. I want to feel him in every way possible. I want to lose myself completely.

He falls back on the bed, slowly. I begin riding him like his cowgirl. I smile and let my hair down. My hands fall flat onto his muscular chest. He feels so fucking good, so right for me. I grip down and push my hips, so that he’s deep inside me. We’re moving slowly, but it’s with a hidden intensity.

With his hands around my waist, he soon starts to take control. Thrusting his hips forward, his cock moves in and out, so hard that I can hear it echo throughout the room. “We have to be quiet,” I whisper.

He just holds his hand over my mouth and kisses my forehead, continuing to thrust upward eagerly. “I’ll protect you and Aidan,” he says. This fantasy is something I want to dive headfirst into, but I know it’s not a reality. Tomorrow, he’ll be gone. Just like last time.

“Always?” I ask him, still.

He flips me onto my back and spreads my legs further apart. “Always.”

“Cum for me,” I tell him.

He fucks me, holding my legs and body in place. His whole body is against mine, pushing me further into the mattress. I’m dripping and he’s growling, as he stares into my eyes. He’s so handsome that it actually frightens me, and his eyes are the color of the dark ocean.

Wave upon wave of emotion hits us on the shores of our desire. He slides his thumb in my mouth and groans louder than he should, pupils growing. “My girl,” he whispers. “You’re so fucking beautiful. You’re an angel.”

“You said that to me last time,” I whisper.

“This time I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stay right where you want me too.”

He thrusts harder than before, holding my ribcage. His fingers tense up and he pulls out this time. He moans, “Oh, God, baby. It’s coming.” His cum shoots out, onto my pelvis and he kisses me quick and sloppy. Our tongues slide and writhe on their own, desperate for the slippery touch.

After we’re done, he holds me in his arms and promises never to leave. I don’t know what just happened, but he can’t stay here. It’s not fair to Aidan to bring him into his life so fast. I still don’t know if he’s right for me, or if he’ll even come through on his promises. This is what men do when they want to cum. They say things, outlandish things, that they don’t even mean.

But for tonight, he’s holding me and I don’t want him to let go. I want to hold his hands over my tits, while he spoons me to sleep. I want him to keep whispering that he loves me, and that he thought of me every single night overseas. I want to feel his warmth for as long as it’s okay. And when we sleep, I want to dream that we’re happier, and in a much better place than this.

I want to feel like I’m still here. Because lately, it’s felt like I’m just another single mom, lost in her duties. I’m not just that. I’m so many things. And I deserve so much more.

Walker

Is it pathetic that I’m lost in her eyes right now? I can’t even say anything. I just want to stay here forever. I don’t want to go back to my shithole apartment. I don’t want to deal with anything anymore. I have enough money saved that I could take care of Aidan with her. I could give her more than she has now.

“I want you,” I tell her over and over again. “Let me stay here with you. You have that extra room. I could move in and help you. I have money, Erica.”

“You’re out of your mind,” she says. “Seriously. We’ve been over this so many times. It’s not good for Aidan and it sure as hell ain’t good for me either.”

“Fine,” I sigh. I’m not going to press the issue. She clearly needs some time and that’s okay for me. I’m soaring right now. I can’t believe my night with her. I’ve been waiting for this moment for half a decade and now I’ve got it. I just need to find a way to continue it.

“You should probably go,” she says before breakfast. “Aidan will wonder why you stayed. He’ll start to think things.”

“Like I’m his father?” I smile.

“Come on, Walker,” she pouts. “Please just respect my wishes. I don’t want to cause him any more stress than he has already endured.”

“I understand.” I kiss her, and kiss her, and kiss her some more. I breathe in hard as she pulls away. She tastes and smells so fucking good.

“I’ll miss you,” I tell her as she shuts the door behind us, out front.

“I’m sure you will.” She rolls her eyes.

“No, I really will. I’ll be sitting in my apartment all day, thinking about you,” I say. It’s the truth. There’s nothing for me back there. I’ll be staring at my blasted wall. I’ll be drinking a bottle of fine Scotch, while I watch the sun go down. I’ll be all alone, again. Like all Americans say, this sucks.

“You’ll survive,” she says. She kisses me one last time and sends me on my way.

Another day, but what to do? I drive home, get to my apartment, and I’m soon back inside that grey building, lifeless and cold. “Dammit,” I sigh.

I look at the bottle of Scotch on the counter. “Well, you’ll never leave me.” I smile to myself and grab a glass, pouring it to the top. I place two ice cubes inside and sip the dry contents. It burns just right.

My phone rings hours later when I’m much more drunk than I thought I’d be. Lazily, I answer it without looking at the screen. “Hello?” I cough, adjusting my eyes.

“We’ll find you,” a voice says into the receiver. It’s not Hawk. It’s not anyone I know. The voice is younger than Edward’s even, but it’s muffled and creepy. “We’ll find you and we’ll kill you. You and your kid.”

“Who is this?!” I scream, but the phone clicks and I know he’s gone.

I throw my glass against the wall and it shatters. “Shit,” I mutter. I have no patience left for this. None whatsoever. Hawk will find me. I always assumed that. I just didn’t think he’d find me so damn fast. I shouldn’t have answered the call.

I groan and place my palm against my forehead. “Oh, God,” I sigh. How in the hell am I going to tell Erica about any of this? I thought I could keep it under wraps. I thought I could handle it without her knowing. But of course, she’s going to find out. Hawk doesn’t play by the rules. He’s old school about things and he’s as dirty as they come. If you cross him, he’ll find out what you hold dear and he’ll exploit it as much as he can.

They’re in danger. My son is in danger.

Now, more than ever, it’s apparent what I have to do. Erica doesn’t think I’ll stick around, but I’m in this for the long haul. Now, I need to move in with her and it’s not just because I want to. If I’m not close to them, I’ll have no way of making sure they’re safe. I told her I’d protect her and Aidan and I intend to do that in any way that I can.

Losing them would be like losing myself. I can’t do that. I can’t be without them. My boy. The woman of my dreams. Nothing would destroy me more. Hawk can take my wealth. He can take away my freedom. But if he even lays one finger on the people I love, he’s in a world of pain. I’ll unleash a storm on him.

I’ll take him down. That’s a fucking promise.

Erica

“You look happy.” Jake, my boss, enters my office, right as I’m packing my things.

“It was a really good presentation,” I say. “I can’t believe we got the Chicago Burger account.”

“You got the Chicago account. Not anybody else,” he says.

“Thank you, Jake,” I mutter.

“It’s good to see you smiling again. For a while there, I thought we might lose you,” he says. Lose me? “But now, you seem fully invested. It’s really great. Thanks for being a team player, Erica.”

He walks out of my office before I can get a word in. So, I guess those days of being sick really hurt my reputation around here. Jake being nice wasn’t Jake actually being nice. It was him holding something over my head. Great.

Despite that little interaction, I feel pretty good. I mean, on the one hand, I shouldn’t jump into this thing with Walker again. I need to hold him at a distance, until he really proves himself. On the other hand, I finally have some life in me again. I feel real, not like I’m just Aidan’s mother.

Renata is much more skeptical. “Do not. I repeat, do not do this,” she says. “You want your heart smashed into a million pieces again?”

“No,” I sigh. “Of course I don’t. But what the hell am I supposed to do? Aidan has his father back.”

“Aidan does not need to know,” she says. “Imagine if he found out he was his dad and then he just mysteriously left again. Imagine what that would do to him?”

“Yeah.” I lower my eyes. “I know. I guess I shouldn’t be hopeful.”

“Just be wary and keep your eyes peeled for signs,” she says. “Because once he starts feeling weird about the whole daddy role, he’s going to dip. Trust me, men are like children.”

Her boyfriend just broke up with her, so I have to take some of what she says with a grain of salt. Still, she does have a point. I need to be extremely cautious. Aidan is my baby. I need to think of him above all. “You’re right,” I tell her. “I’ll be careful.”

She leans back on the couch and looks at me weird, for a good few seconds. “What?” I laugh. “Why are you doing that?”

“Because I want to know,” she says. “Was the sex incredible?”

“Ren,” I laugh. “I thought you said I shouldn’t engage with him anymore. Now, you’re asking me if I thought the sex was incredible?”

“Well, I need to know! I haven’t had sex in a week. Greg dumped me and I’ve been a wreck. Let me live through your excitement, dammit!” she exclaims. “Or not. What do I care?”

“It was amazing.” I smile and think back on it. “It was passionate and sweet. Heavy and…” I can’t think of the word I want to use.

“Deep?” Renata asks.

I cover my mouth and blush, nodding. “Very deep,” I admit.

“Ugh,” she sighs. “Well, he is really hot. I get you on that. I just worry about you, baby girl. I don’t want to see you hurt again. These last six years have been rough.”

“Oh, come on,” I smile awkwardly. “I haven’t been that bad. Have I?”

She looks at me like I’ve had a blindfold over my eyes for the last six years. “Are you serious right now? You’ve been a fucking wreck,” she says. The truth hurts. “Not trying to be a bitch, but the only times I’ve seen you get cheerful is when you’re playing with Aidan. I’ve missed seeing you this excited.”

“Yeah, well. I’ll probably all crash and burn soon enough,” I say. “It seems to be a reoccurring pattern for me.”

“Stop that,” she says. “Who knows? Maybe we were actually right this time. Maybe your luck is turning around for you. Maybe this time he’ll stay.”

“Do I even want that?” I ask, more to myself than anyone else.

“I don’t know. I can’t answer that one for you, babe,” she says. I look outside the window and see Aidan running around by himself. He’s got a huge imagination, but he’s lacking in friends and role models. Not that he doesn’t look up to me in a lot of ways, but he wants his father. It’s the one thing he brings up nowadays, more than anything.

“I hate that he’s good with him,” I say. “He’s trying hard.”

“It would be damn cute to see Aidan with his dad,” she nods.

“I just get the sense that he’s not telling me the full truth,” I say. “Like, maybe he’ll stay, but he’s hiding something from me. I don’t even know what it is, but there’s something.”

“Another woman? Women? He did do that service. You sure he’s done?” she asks.

“Ugh,” I sigh. “I don’t think it’s that. He seems to want to be around me all of the time. If he was working, I’d know it. I can’t put my finger on what it is. It’s just that something is off and if my intuition is right, all hell is going to break loose.”

“Leave it to me,” she says. “I’ll get to the bottom of it.”

“Ren, don’t. Seriously, I’ll figure it out on my own,” I say.

“Okay.” She side-eyes me. “I’m curious though.”

“Please don’t. I don’t need any more trouble.” I tell her.

“We’ll see,” she says. “We’ll see.”

Walker

She invited me over again, so I’ve made myself look as good as possible. To make up for the dinner that I ruined, I bring over dinner from one of the best Vietnamese restaurants in town. When I ring the doorbell, I hear running footsteps and a funny little yell coming toward the door.

“Who is it?” Aidan asks me.

“It’s me,” I say.

“Who’s me? What’s the password?” he bellows, sounding mighty.

“The password?” I ask aloud. “Girls drool.”

He inches open the door and peaks out. “That’s not the password,” he says. “But I’ll let it slide because I like it.”

He swings open the door and I see Erica standing behind him, arms crossed. Aidan turns around and jumps. “Girls drool, huh?” Erica smiles. “I’ve seen you drool plenty of times, mister.”

“Uh oh.” He smiles.

“Wrong move to let me in, buddy. Turns out, I was a spy for your mom all along!” I reach over, pretending like I’m going to tickle him. Erica follows my lead.

“No!” he screams. “Mom, help!”

She grabs and picks him up in his arms. The tickling ensues, and he wiggles endlessly. “Kisses for you!” Erica kisses his stomach, until finally we set him down and he falls onto the carpet, laughing and kicking us away.

“You’re torturing me!” he jokes. When he catches his breath, he runs toward the kitchen.

“I brought pho,” I smile and hold up the container filled with soup, and bags of onions and jalapeños. “I’m sorry about the other night.”

“Oh, I love pho!” she says. She nearly hugs me, or at least it seems like she’s about to, before she corrects herself and heads toward the kitchen after Aidan. “Come on. Let’s eat.”

I want to talk to her about things, but I know it’s too early for any of that. Instead, we drink a little beer, eat a little soup, and I talk to Aidan as much as possible. The idea that I have a son hasn’t sunken in completely yet.

Right now, it almost feels like a dream, as if none of this is quite real. Then again, ever since I met Erica, everything has been quite dreamlike. I always thought something like this would be more planned out. Sometimes, however, that’s not the way things go. When I look at Aidan, I see myself. I see how I used to be when I was his age. He’s so lucky. He has a nice neighborhood, a perfect mother, and a bright future ahead of him. What he doesn’t have is a real father to be there for him.

“Aidan,” I say, “do you like sports?”

“I like basketball,” he says, while playing with his soup.

“We should play sometime,” I wink. “You in?”

He looks over at his mother who seems surprised by my gesture. “Can I, Mom? I’ll finish my homework. I promise!”

“You run a tight ship around here,” I tell his mom.

“I don’t see any reason why you couldn’t,” she says, glaring at me. There’s a slight distrust of me in her eyes, but she’s doing her best to be okay with things. That’s as much as you can hope for, sometimes.

My mother once told me, “You can do one hundred things right, but one thing can ruin everything forever.” It was one of the many cryptic sentences she was obsessed with telling me. I took it with a grain of salt. I met Hawk not too long after, and I thought that maybe that might have been the mistake that would ruin everything. But it wasn’t. I ran away instead of fighting. I left the woman I could have been giving love to, and the son that had been born. I was selfish and stupid. But I know that it’s going to be extremely hard to come back from. It could have ruined everything forever.

Aidan is excited beyond belief and for a second there, I think that it might even be possible to mend things completely. I feel like a father, for once in my life. I look at Aidan and I feel a genuine excitement and urge to pursue a better way of life. It’s fucking strange, to be honest, because before I met Erica, none of these feelings existed. I was on a path towards nowhere, headed down, down, down.

The dinner is great. We laugh. We bathe in the warmth of each other. We feel good, and that’s all we’ve ever wanted out of life. When Aidan goes off to bed, I’m not even relieved. I want more time with him. There’s so much I want to teach and tell him. I need to say how sorry I am.

“That was nice,” she says, washing the utensils.

I walk up behind her and wrap my hands around her soft waist. I kiss down on her neck and smell her scent. I get hard and I make sure she feels it on the side of her luscious ass. “It was nice,” I say. My right hand moves up toward her tits and I do everything that I can not to stuff my face in them, but I do run my hand under her shirt.

She moans for a brief second, enjoying me. Ultimately, she ends with a long sigh. She pushes out from my grasp and walks to an opposite cabinet. “Where are you going?” I ask her, awkwardly adjusting my pants and clearing my throat of embarrassment. I keep standing and watch as she frantically reaches in the cabinet.

“I need a dry towel,” she says, finding nothing. I laugh and reach into a drawer right where she was standing originally, and pull out a few freshly dried dishtowels.

“You mean one of these?” I laugh. “Here. Take two.”

I toss a few towels over to her and she catches them. “You know where everything is around here now,” she says, looking away from me. Her face is red and I’m sure it’s hot. Is it from desire or anger? Or both?

I walk up to her and begin massaging her shoulders. She moans and tilts her head to the side. “We can’t do this,” she eventually says, for like the hundredth time now.

“Do you want me?” I ask her.

“What does that even mean?” she whispers. The only sound that can be heard is the sink continually running. I turn it off and the house is completely silent.

“It means…” I stop myself. She’s an adult, dammit. She knows exactly what I’m talking about. I’m not going to stay weak forever. I’m going to tell her exactly what it is that I want, and that I know she dreams of it every single night.

“It means, sit on my fucking face. Now,” I demand of her.

“Excuse me?” her eyes widen and her throat closes. I place my hand on her collarbone and I can feel her pulse resonate throughout her chest. It beats firmly, speeding up with each passing second. She tries to swallow, but she can’t. Her mouth is too dry, so she licks her lips quickly. It’s in these moments that she tries to cover herself with excuses. She doesn’t want me to see her weaknesses.

But I can see everything she does because I need her that badly.

“You know what I mean,” I whisper in her ear.

“I’m really tired,” she says, all too quickly. Her muscles tighten up and she feels rigid. She can barely get a breath in. She won’t allow it.

“Sit on my face,” I say again. “I want to feel you cum.”

My hand slowly trails down along the inside of her thigh and I can see as she closes her eyes that she wants this. There’s no question she wants this. My cock pushes out from my pants as I unzip and rip the belt away. Her trembling hand moves toward it. She stretches her fingers and touches the tight skin. She breathes out hard and makes a small noise, betraying the secret promise she made to herself.

I’ve come to ruin that promise. I’ve come to make her mine forever. “Yes,” I moan. “Touch it like a good girl.”

“I can’t let you in that easy. This will happen every single time,” she says, pulling her hand back. I grab her wrist and she instinctively holds my hand in hers.

“I want this every single day of my life. Don’t you understand? I fucked up one time,” I say in a hushed tone. “I didn’t know I got you pregnant. I had no fucking idea. So now, I’m here to make things right. I’m going to make you my woman, whether you fight me or not.”

“I hate you,” she says, suddenly spitting on my face.

I rip my shirt off and pin her against the kitchen pantry door. “Good,” I whisper. “I hate me too. Let it all out.”

“You piece of shit,” she says, growing angrier. “I want you to leave. I want you to never come back.”

“Good!” I smile and grab her cunt. “Yet, you’re wet. You’re clearly turned on by me.”

“Fuck you,” she says, breathing quickly now. She grabs my hair and I let her push me down underneath her.

I don’t say a fucking word. I roll her panties down to her ankles and slide my tongue against her wetness. She nearly screams, before placing her hands around her mouth.

“Don’t wake our son,” I say, ripping her panties off her ankles.

“Or what?” she talks back, though there’s a slight smile forming behind that scowl on her face.

I fold her panties in half, so that they’re nice and tight, and quickly tie them around her mouth. I grab her wrists and use my shirt to tie them together. She moans through the fabric, but makes no attempt to kick me.

“Good. Now, you can’t fight it.” I smile. “I know who you really are, deep down. You might be a mother, but inside that sexy body of yours is a whore waiting to be brought out.”

She moans something inaudible, growing wetter now. “I’m not going to leave you, Erica,” I say, “And I’m never going to let you go.”

Her panties gag her as I carry her to the couch. I grab her legs and push them apart. She makes no attempt at fighting me, and even pushes her ass out when I touch her juicy skin. “Close your eyes,” I tell her. “I want you to enjoy this.”

My tongue falls flat and heavy against her sopping pussy. Those sweet folds are the only thing I’ve been living for lately. When I taste her, I make sure my tongue pushes deep inside her. I lick from left to right, sliding up and down her ass. I’m not a man who is timid. I enjoy all of her, every single part of her sex.

She is a mystery waiting to be found out. The only way I can get through to her is by making her cum. Tonight, it’s all about her.

I first slide two fingers inside her and move the tips up and down. “Promise not to be a bad girl?” I ask her. I remove her gag, so she can speak.

“I, uh, don’t promise anything,” she moans.

I slide my fingers out. I place them against her mouth and she opens wide for me. She tastes herself and closes her eyes, tongue wrapping around the knuckles, lips drawing tight. I slide my fingers back in her pussy and repeat the necessary motions.

I begin sucking on her clit with intent to leave her squirming. When my fingers are back in her mouth, I gag her. I keep them in her mouth as I slide my cock against her clit, without penetrating her in the slightest. I just tease her and tease her, until she’s very audibly moaning.

“How?” she finally asks. “How are you this good?”

“I want to please you,” I say, sucking on her long lips. Her pussy is so fucking pretty that it deserves a diamond necklace.

“Forever?” she moans. “Just like this? You’re not going to change all of a sudden?”

“Forever,” I whisper. My fingers from both hands intertwine with hers and my mouth falls around her beautiful pussy again. It grows tight and sweeter tasting. Her stomach begins shaking, along with every joint in her body. “I’m here,” I moan.

“You’re going to make me cum,” she says. “Keep eating me.”

Her cheeks grow flush with a gorgeous glow. She looks so fucking beautiful, right before she’s about to lose it all for me. Her toes begin to curl right when she knows it’s going to happen. Her hands wrap tightly around mine. She groans and shuts her eyes tightly. Everything is hanging on a thread, or the tip of a needle. One small move, and it all comes crashing down. One word can set it all off.

“Cum,” I whisper.

Like a crashing wave against a rocky shore, like the slip of a trigger, like the breaking of glass, and the rush of adrenaline, everything stays silent, before crashing into a cacophony of sound. It lets out of her body like a cry of uncertainty, until it moves into pure euphoria and relief, and understanding.

“Finally,” she whispers to herself, though I don’t necessarily know what that even means to her.

I quickly kiss her mouth and thread my fingers in her hair. “I love you,” I whisper. She slides from the couch below me and opens her mouth. Without warning, I feel her tongue slide against my cock and she strokes it with purpose, as I slide out from her mouth.

“I love you too,” she says. I can’t deny, I cum within a minute after hearing her say those words. She loves me? Well, I fucking need her. I hold her hair tightly as I shoot my load, around her pretty mouth. She swallows me and smiles, kissing around my cock.

“I never swallow for anyone,” she quickly reiterates. “And if you treat me like shit ever again, I’ll have to kill you.”

“You can poison me. You can hire a hitman. I don’t care. I’m downright obsessed with you,” I laugh.

Whatever happens, the truth will remain that I did, at the very least, love her as much as a man can. I may have made a few mistakes. Who hasn’t? That doesn’t mean I can’t correct them for the future. I can be the best dad Aidan’s ever dreamed of, while remaining a dedicated husband for Erica. That is, if she lets me have the honor of pursuing both jobs. It’s all I want. It’s all I’ll ever want.

“You can stay the night,” she finally says. “But tomorrow, you’ll have to leave.”

Tomorrow? How did I get so damn lucky?

Erica

I put up as much of a fight as I could last night, but as tough as I fought, he still ended up winning. It’s just that when I look at him, something happens to me. It’s like everything turns a different temperature. My vision gets clearer and I feel happy again. Even when I’m angry with him and feel betrayed, I can’t look at him and truly say I want nothing to do with him. I can lie about it. I can hope he disappears, so I don’t have to deal with the repercussions, but even then, I’ll have to deal with my sadness when I find out he’s never coming back. All I can do now is hope for the best, for my son.

“Wake up, darling,” he says into my ear. His hands wrap around my back and I feel so warm.

It’s hard not knowing which path to take. What am I supposed to say? Am I supposed to turn to him with loving eyes and kiss him with every ounce of passion in the world? “Hey, Walker,” I smile.

He does the work and kisses me. His lips crush against mine and goose bumps shoot across my body. His cologne smells so fucking good.

“Mm,” he moans and opens his eyes. His hand moves across my cheek. “Do you still want me to leave?” He kisses me again, tongue sliding against mine.

“Mom!” Aidan slams against the door. Thank God it’s locked. “Open the door, please!” he calls out.

“I guess not,” I laugh. I yell to Aidan, “One second!”

“Get dressed,” I tell him. “I don’t want him knowing you’re sleeping in the same bed with me.”

“God forbid his dad sleeps with his mom,” he sighs and puts on his jeans. I look over at his chest and perfect body and I give into him. I kiss his abs and feel around his arms.

“Maybe you’re right,” I sigh. “I just feel so weird about this whole thing.”

“You can trust me, Erica. I promise you,” he says. From my experience, all men say these things. The words hold very little weight after some time passes.

“If I trust you, that means I’m giving everything to you,” I tell him, holding onto his hands tightly. “If you do what you did before, I’ll be left in pieces.”

“I don’t ever want to hurt you,” he explains.

“Okay, but I need to tell you this, Walker. Raising a kid is one hell of a responsibility. It’s not just about playing basketball or taking him to the park,” I say. “It’s helping him with his homework, taking him to school on time, getting him to go to bed at a decent hour, and maintaining his emotions. You have no time for yourself. Trust me on this. If you can’t do the job, I don’t want you to make a promise to me that you will. Aidan is way more important to me than you are.”

He silently grabs his shirt and for a brief second, it almost seems like he’s about to leave. When he sits back down, I expect a long and painful goodbye. Instead, he smiles. “I want to be in his life as much as I do yours,” he says. “I’ve lived a long life in such a short amount of time. Raising Aidan will be a fucking privilege. There’s nothing I want more in this world.”

“Nothing?” I ask. “You swear to me? You’re not lying to me again?”

“No more lies,” he says. “I can’t believe I ever lied to you. It breaks my heart.”

“It breaks mine too,” I say, unlocking the door slowly. “But Aidan likes you. I can tell he does. If he approves, maybe I should give you another chance.”

“I won’t let you down again,” he promises. Aidan comes running in the room, already dressed and ready to go to the park.

“Walker!” he yells, jumping onto the mattress. He starts bouncing, with his shoes on and everything.

“Aidan, no shoes on the bed!” I tell him. Walker runs to the rescue and picks him up, swinging him into his arms. I can’t help but laugh because it’s the cutest thing I’ve seen in ages.

“We’re going to shoot some hoops, as they say in America?” Walker asks him.

“Where are you from, mister?” Aidan asks.

“Britain, lad,” he says. I roll my eyes.

“Is it nice?” he asks him.

“Dreadful place,” he smiles. “It’s full of dragons, kings, queens, and even knights.”

“Dragons?!” he screams, jumping out of his grip. He lands feet first on the ground and looks over at me with extreme excitement.

“Mom, can we go?” he politely asks me.

“Someday,” I tell him. “Right now, we’re going to the park!”

At the park, I sit and listen to music, while they play basketball. It’s possibly the first day in a very long time since I’ve gotten to relax a bit. I used to love listening to music outside, while going on long walks. There’s so much I used to love doing, but as you grow older, your time starts to dwindle. You have to sacrifice these things.

Having Walker around is helpful and it’s wonderful to see Aidan excited like this. Not to mention, he makes my legs shake. He gets me wet. He presses my buttons in all the right ways. God, I want him so fucking badly. Though, I still have the heavy weight in my stomach related to telling Aidan that Walker is his real dad, but that can wait for a while. Right now, I just need to see where this is headed.

They come over to the park bench, both exhausted and clinging to me. My two men. “Have fun?” I laugh.

“He killed me out there!” Walker winks.

Aidan says, “I got a three pointer and won the game.”

“I had no idea you liked basketball so much,” I say. I guess when you’re as busy as I am, it’s hard to really keep up on everything.

Aidan grabs the ball and returns to the court, practicing by himself. “This is fun.” I look at Walker.

“Yeah?” he asks. “You really think so? Because it’s been one of the best days of my life.”

“I know that’s a lie,” I laugh.

“I’m serious,” he says with a look of pure honesty. “I can’t believe I have a son. I’m going to fucking cry bullets.”

His hand curls around mine. I squeeze against his fingers and feel hopeful. “I hope you’re serious. This is a daily thing for me. Every year with Aidan is completely eye opening. He’s getting so big.”

“God,” he sighs. “Why’d I go back to England?”

“It’s okay,” I whisper. “It’s okay now. As long as you’re back for good.”

“I am. I’ll never leave you. I just can’t believe I didn’t get to see my son come into this world,” he says. “My life feels like one giant joke.”

“Welcome to adulthood.” I kiss him. “But just to let you know, your life isn’t a joke. It has purpose if you wish to live it.”

“I know. You’ve taught me that much. I’m confident about the future now,” he says.

“Then I’m confident about us.” Maybe I’ve made a bad choice in taking him back, but I’m going to see this one through. He seems honest this time. I’m seeing good things in the horizon. Fuck it, there’s no use in hiding it. I’m still in love with him. I always will be.

Walker

My phone buzzes against my face and I wake up, staring at her wall. I grab my phone and quickly answer it, rubbing my eyes hard. “Erica, is everything okay?” I ask, thinking it might be her, calling from work. I hear her cooking breakfast in the kitchen and realize it’s Sunday.

“We’ve found you,” a voice says.

“Hawk,” I sit up, shaking with rage. There’s a sharp laughter on the other end of the call. “Face me once and for all. No weapons. Face me and let’s end this.”

“Don’t forget where you came from,” he says. “Stop running from the past. It always catches up to you.”

“I’ve changed, Hawk. I’m a new person,” I say. I think of Aidan and my heart starts pounding faster. I need to protect him, but how can I tell them who I really am? They won’t understand when they hear my story. Erica will kick me out for good.

He continues to laugh. “Stop fooling yourself,” he says.

“Just leave me alone. You want money? Great, I’ll send you a check. I’m done with the business. I’m done working for you, Hawk. I’ve got other priorities,” I say, glancing over the backyard wall

“All the lies you’ve been living,” he says. “Do you think your little family would understand?”

“You bastard,” I scream. “Come and find me. Now! I’m right here, dammit!”

The phone clicks and I’m left with silence. I have to stop myself from throwing the phone at the wall and shattering it to pieces. “Fuck,” I whisper, falling to my knees.

All I want is to turn things around. I want to block out all my wrong doings. It’s not all my fault. I was brought in as a young kid. I didn’t know any better. I had no guiding force in my life. As an adult, I still have no say. I’ve made all the wrong decisions. This new life of mine is all over once Erica finds out who I really am. A monster. A low life. A sucker who fell into the wrong shit.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Erica walks into the room, wiping her hands on a dishtowel.

“Nothing,” I smile. “Just talking to the realtor.”

“You’re getting a new house?” she asks me, shocked. “Since when?”

The lies keep stacking up. I’m just digging the hole deeper. “I’m just keeping an eye out,” I say, hugging her. “You know, just in case you want something bigger.”

I kiss her, while she simply rests her chin against my shoulder. She’s not buying it. “What is up with you this morning?” She walks away from me, shaking her head, lost in thought.

I lean against the doorway and sigh to myself. There’s so much guilt pent-up inside me. I have no idea what to do. Do I tell her and let everything fall apart in an instant? Of course not. Her worrying isn’t going to help anything. I need to protect them on my own.

Breakfast is normal. We all sit at the table like a real family, but I’m not fully there and Erica can sense it. When we go to the park again, we walk toward the court in silence. That is, until she decides to break it.

“Can you just tell me what you’re thinking? Are you trying to back out of this already?” she asks, looking hurt.

“I’m not, Erica,” I tell her. “I’m telling you the truth.”

“I have to be really stupid to be trusting you, don’t I?” she asks me. “Whatever it is you’re planning can’t be good. I can tell. You have that same look on your face as the day you left.”

We continue walking for a good couple of minutes and I have no idea what to say to her. A man walks next to us and smiles. I recognize his face. He’s the same man from the bar, right before I left to England.

My muscles twitch. My eyes dilate. I clench my fists together. “Cute kid you got there,” he says to Erica. I hold my fucking breath, waiting for him to spill everything about me.

“Thank you.” She smiles and continues to walk.

I whisper at her, “Come on. Let’s keep walking.”

She looks at me with a sense of urgency in her eye. “What’s wrong, Walker?”

“I just get a bad feeling about this guy,” I whisper.

The man continues to walk the other way and whistles to himself. “Bye, Aidan,” he says. A chill runs up my spine. I spin around and the man has turned into the nature trail, barely able to be seen.

I do what I have to do. I run after him, as Erica screams, “Walker!”

“Bye!” Aidan waves as a sea of green swallows us up.

I can’t let him get away with terrorizing my family. I know this is all my fault, but this ends now. “Hey!” I scream. I see him in front of me. “Stop!” He’s on a full sprint now. He turns right onto a separate trail and immediately turns left, ducking through the endless trees.

I pick up the pace and try and to keep up with him, but he knows the paths well. “Bastard,” I mutter under my breath as we reach a point where the trees diverge into a rocky landscape. Giant boulders line up in front of us. “I’ve got you.”

He climbs the boulder directly in front of him and I’m actually amazed at the speed he scales upward. “Dammit,” I sigh and run forward, climbing the best I can. It takes a good five minutes before I get to the top and I’m sure I’ve lost him. However, when I finally pull my body up, I’m face to face with the man.

“I’d suggest turning back around,” he says. His voice is spine tingling, but I’m not afraid of any of Hawk’s men. We’ve all been trained in the same way.

“Like Hell,” I mutter. “This ends now.”

“No,” he laughs. “It ends when Hawk says it ends.”

I swing with all my might, knocking him in the jaw. He falls back and ducks to the ground, swinging his leg across mine. I trip backwards and roll off the boulder. Luckily, I find a place to hold on, hanging off the edge. I look up and he’s standing above me with his foot dangling over my hand.

“I could end you right now,” he says.

I’m breathing with all my might, looking for a way out of this, but I’m fucked. “So be it,” I say.

“Listen to Hawk,” he says. “If you don’t, it’ll be your son who pays, not you.”

“You wouldn’t,” I say. “An innocent child? We don’t go that low.”

“I’ve done worse,” he says.

“Who are you?” I ask him.

“Stay in line. This is bigger than you now,” he says.

Just as he’s about to step on my knuckles, he turns around and runs off, jumping down the rocky path. I pull myself up and lay across the rocks, out of breath and in pain.

I hear running behind me and turn to see Erica holding Aidan in her arms. “Walker!” she screams. “Walker?”

She sees me on top of the boulders. Her eyes are filled with fear and adrenaline. “I tried to get to him.” I pick my body up and find a way down.

“Who was he?” she asks, confused.

“I don’t know,” I lie.

“Come on, Aidan,” she says. “We have to go home early.”

“Really?” Aidan pouts. “Why?”

“We just do, sweetie,” she says, shuffling him away from me.

“Wait,” I tell her. “You’re leaving without me?”

“Come if you want,” she says. “But you’re telling me what happened up there.” She looks down at my leg. It’s bleeding through my grey sweatpants.

It’s already gotten to this point. Retaliation on Hawk’s part. I should have known this would happen. The stakes are the highest they’ve ever been. I’m not letting him get away with what he did. When I get the chance, I’m taking him down for good.

Erica

“Tell me. Tell me everything, or you can’t come back here.” I’m stern with him. I’m not an idiot. I’m not going to be one of those women who lets their man walk all over them. It’s obvious there’s something going on. I just want him to be honest to me about it.

“You wouldn’t believe me,” he says, looking at Aidan playing in the backyard.

“Try me, asshole,” I tell him. I feel the adrenaline pushing through my body. He gave me his word. ‘No more lies.’ What does he immediately do? He lies. The worst part is that I’m pretty sure this one is bigger than I thought. Who is Walker Hambell?

“I didn’t grow up in London,” he says.

I already feel myself losing it, but I try and remain calm until I hear everything that I can. “Everything,” I say. “Who the fuck are you? Who did I let into my house? Is your name even Walker?”

“I grew up in the north, far from the big cities, though I know them well,” he says. “My father left my mother before I was born. I never met the man. My mother was a bitter, angry woman, and I suppose it was rightfully so. I met a man named Hawk. He ran the streets of my town. He gave me food, friends, and a place to stay. He gave me a purpose and put me to work. Slowly, I began to see how things were run. I planned my escape, when I realized he was using me for his own gain. I left and never looked back. I made my own way, hoping he’d never find me again.”

“This is unbelievable. A low-level gangster? Are you really telling me that’s what you did back in England?” she cries. “You’re a liar, Walker! You’re pathological.”

“It’s the truth.” I defend myself as best I can. “Hawk found me and that’s why I left in the first place. He said all I had to do was repay my debt. Well, after six years, it became obvious that he wasn’t ever going to let me go back to you. I made a deal with someone. Edward. He got me back here.”

She sits in disbelief, weighing her options. After some time and some tears, she finally asks, “You didn’t think it would catch up with you?”

“What choice did I have? I didn’t know I had a son. I just wanted to get back to the woman I fell in love with that night,” I tell her.

“I think you should leave,” she says, standing up.

“Erica, I—”

“Just go,” she says.

I turn and move toward the door. I’ve fucked everything up. That much is clear. When I reach the door, I turn back around. “I never meant for any of this,” I say.

“Sometimes it’s not what you intend to happen,” she says. “Sometimes, it’s how it impacts the other person. I need some time. This is all just too much.”

The door closes and I’m left alone. That night, when I’m back in my apartment, I book an overnight flight to London. I’m not letting Hawk get away with this. In just a few days, he’ll be gone from this world. That’s a promise I intend to keep.

Erica

Renata tries to calm me down, but I’m in full hysterical mode. “It’s going to be okay,” she says. “You don’t need that bastard around. You never needed him.”

“I hate him,” I cry. “I hate everything that he stands for. He’s pathetic.”

“Let it all out,” she says, rubbing my back. “Keep it going.”

“He’s a disgusting pig. He’s deranged. I’ve never met a man who lies like he does,” I say. I wipe the tears from my face and take a deep breath. “Fuck, my emotions are never stable and it’s because of him. Everything he’s done to me has been horrible.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” she gives a saddened look.

“And yet, I can’t fathom being away from him,” I admit.

“Erica, don’t start with that,” she says.

“I’m serious, Ren. I can’t. I love him. I fucking love him,” I say. “And he’s so good with Aidan too. I just wish—”

“I just wish he wasn’t such a piece of shit,” she interrupts me. “I wish I could offer you some words of wisdom, but I’m not exactly the person to listen to.”

“Am I an idiot if I stay?” I ask her. “Answer me truthfully.”

“Well, that depends,” she says. “Do you think he’s telling the truth? And do you feel safe with him if he does stay?”

“I don’t know,” I mutter. “I want to say that he’s telling the truth. It’s a crazy story to try and make up on the spot. As for me and Aidan’s safety, I feel both completely safe and unsafe now. Without him, I have no one to protect us. With him, I’m putting our boy in danger.”

“You need to talk to him before he does anything rash,” she says. “Like, now. You need to decide. Make a decision and go from there. This is serious, Erica.”

“I know,” I sigh. “Boy do I know.”

When I leave Renata’s place, I’m nowhere near being close to figuring this whole thing out. I love him. I really do, even if it’s against my best interests. Not to mention, I actually believe the bastard when he tells me he wants the best for me. But his past brings demons and I want them away from me, forever.

“I’m going back to England,” he tells me. “I’m ending this.”

My heart drops and so does my body. “You’re leaving. Again,” I mutter. “Are you serious?”

“I need to see Hawk,” he says. “I need to figure all of this out. If I catch him off guard, I’ll be able to end this.”

“Then I’m coming with.” I get angry. “You’re not doing this alone. You can’t leave Aidan and me again. That’s not how this is going to work.”

“Aidan can’t come,” he says. “It’s too fucking dangerous.”

“Like you give a damn,” I spit. “Besides, I can leave him with Renata.”

“No,” he says. “This is my fight. I’m not going to let you in harm’s way. This is final.”

“Walker, damn you—”

The phone hangs up, but it’s not the final say. Hell no. I run to my room and look through a pile of clothes he left in the corner. I dig through every pocket, coming out empty handed. “Fuck,” I sigh, holding a jacket in my hand. I slip my hand in a pocket and find an address in England. “There we go.” I smile.

I dart over to my laptop and open up a list of flights. I book one for tomorrow and pack lightly. I arrange everything with Renata, though she thinks I’m out of my mind. Maybe I am crazy. But this journey is mine and I want to see it through.

I call my boss. “Jake? Hey, it’s Erica,” I say. “I quit.”

Walker

I may have lost everything yesterday, but that doesn’t mean I’m coming back to work for Hawk ever again. I never want to see these putrid streets again. The ugly fucking brick, the cold rain, and all of the young lads who think they’re tough as nails – I never want to see them again. This is the final straw. This when I turn things around.

I get a room at a nearby hostel, and remain low. Erica has called me at least five times, but I’ve ignored every single one. I won’t let her near any more danger. I just want to make things right, even if that’s impossible at this point.

As I sit and plan my next move, there’s a knock on my door. Hawk, I think to myself. Who else could it be? I grab the lamp near the bed and hold it, ready to swing. Another knock.

“Who is it?” I reply.

“Edward,” he says. “I’m alone.”

I open the door, making sure the lock is still attached. “You came alone?” I peer out and when I only see him, I open the door, ready for a fight.

“You shouldn’t have come,” he says. “They’re on the hunt for you. Put the lamp down. I come in peace.”

“I had to come,” I tell him. “My family is in danger. How’d you find me?”

“I’ve been put on the task of lookout. You’re not very difficult to track down. You make too many obvious decisions,” he says. “Lucky for you, I’m in some need.”

“In need of what?” I ask him, waiting for the catch.

“Money. I have some plans for myself,” he says. “So if you help me, I’ll help you. Hawk is losing it. His only desire now is to find you and bring you to rest.”

I take some time to think about the offer and decide that it’s not a bad deal. If there’s anyone I can hire to help me, it may as well be him.

“Well, you got me home. But how can I trust you?” I ask him.

“I know some things,” he says, with a sly smile. He pulls out a pistol and hands it to me.

“What sort of things?” I ask him. “Do you know the man who’s been following me?”

“Mr. Mulligan,” he says. “But he’s the least of your worries.”

“What makes you say that?” I continue to try and put the pieces together, but the whole thing seems convoluted. Is this all part of Hawk’s plan? Did he send Edward to find me?

“Mulligan works for everyone and no one. If you offer him the right amount, he’ll be of good use,” he says. “Which is why I contacted him.”

“What do you mean?” As soon as I ask, there’s another knock on my door. I immediately point the weapon at Edward and stand up, backing away from him. “Who is that? What are you planning?”

“Put the gun down,” he says. “No one in this room needs to get hurt over nothing.” The knocking continues.

“Who is that?” I repeat.

“Why don’t you see for yourself,” he says.

I motion for him to answer the door, telling him, “Slowly. No sharp movements.”

He opens the door as slow as he can and there’s the man, Mr. Mulligan, standing in front of me. All he does is nod and sit down. “It’s you,” I mutter.

“Your woman is coming to find you,” he says. “Edward says you have a better deal for me. If that’s the case, then give me all the details you can. If not, I’ll be on my way.”

“Erica,” I say to myself. “Whatever Hawk is giving you, I’ll double it. I don’t give a fuck about money. All I care about is the safety of my family.”

“I told you,” Edward smiles. “Walker is a generous man.”

“Shove off,” I tell Edward. “I’m confused about some things still. How does Erica know where to go?”

“I can’t tell you that information. All I could dig up is a one-way flight. Your son will be staying with a friend,” Mulligan says.

“She shouldn’t be coming here. It’s too dangerous,” I say aloud.

“I have no interest in hurting you or your family,” Mulligan says. “It’s clear that Edward doesn’t either.”

“Then what’s your goal in all of this? It’s all about financial gain with you people?” I ask, turning red with fury.

“Give up the hero act, Walker,” Edward says. “This world is all about power. Who wields that power lives a free life, right? There’s hardly any dispute over that.”

“It’s a fucking rat race you’ll never be able to win,” I say, placing the pistol in my back pocket. “Once you get in, you can never get out. Trust me. Money doesn’t buy any freedom. It only makes you more of a slave to the work that gives you it.”

“This is boring,” Edward says to Mulligan. “If he doesn’t want any help, we should leave.”

“Wait,” I say. “I don’t have too many options left.”

“No, you don’t,” Mulligan laughs. “Here’s the facts. Hawk needs to go and we’re the people who can help you eradicate him forever. But he’s closed off access to him. We believe you’re the only one who can get to him now.”

“And you want to take over the business, I presume?” I eye him carefully. It’s obvious now why they’re willing to help. “Why should I pay you anything for my help?”

Mulligan sighs and closes his eyes, before peering out of half-open lids again. He looks tired. He’s aging and he knows it. He’s looking for options. We both have legs up on each other and we both need all the help we can get.

“Normally, we settle in pounds. But with this job, you will choose to forfeit that option. You’ll settle with a handshake,” he says. “But after this is all finished, I don’t ever want to hear about you again. I don’t want to see you again. After all this is done, you have to be a father to that child and live a plain and normal life. There’s no getting back in after this.”

“It’s a fucking coup,” I laugh, but no one else is laughing. “Alright, I think we have ourselves a deal.”

“Good,” Edward smiles. “Let’s go over the plan.”

Erica

I can’t believe I traveled this far for one man. I’ve sacrificed my life for one man and it’s all because of one stupid night. And even though he’s lied a million and one times to me, I still want to believe it was for the best. I want to believe he was trying to keep us safe. If I can find him, maybe I can talk to this Hawk guy. Leave it to a woman to finalize a deal.

“Please don’t do this,” Renata said as I was leaving her house. “I’m begging you. Think of your son.”

But I was thinking about him. I was thinking about how happy he was playing basketball with Walker. I could it see it in his eyes. He was anticipating a new life. When I left, I felt so much heartbreak and guilt. I almost couldn’t board the damn plane. But when I thought of my own heart, I knew I had to go. It might sound selfish, but Walker is the only man to make me feel this way.

Still, no woman would venture this far for someone. I can’t rightly justify it myself. All I can say is that I’ve been through too much. A horrible divorce, a child I was forced to raise alone, and a job I’ve always hated. That’s enough to send someone over the edge. I want answers, dammit. I want a chance at a normal life with the man I fell in love with.

North Manchester is where the ticket takes me. And from what I’ve read, North Manchester is the most dangerous spot in England. I enter the streets, carefully making my way to the only hotel in the area that would accept cash without identification. I have no idea what I’m doing and I spend my time calling Walker in hopes that he might answer, and looking out the window for anything out of the ordinary.

Of course, there’s nothing to be found. From what I can tell, this city is charming. There’s a canal that runs through the area and it has all a city can offer. Then again, I’m not in the slums. I’m in the nice parts.

I eventually have to force myself to leave my room. I take a walk to the nearest pub and when I enter, it’s everything I imagined the place to be. There are loud men all around me, lots of tourists, and a football match is playing loudly on a television.

“What will it be, love?” the bartender asks me with a crooked smile.

“Guinness,” I say, feeling out of place. “Um, a pint?”

The man laughs and returns with a glass of dark liquid. I give him the amount of pounds needed and keep my head down. “Walker won’t be here,” I think to myself. “Neither will Hawk.” No, if I want to find him, I’ll have to venture further.

When I’m half finished with my beer, my phone rings and I nearly jump out of my seat to answer it. It’s Walker. “Walker,” I say. “Where are you?”

“You followed me?” he asks. “Why are you putting yourself in this kind of danger?”

“I can’t answer that question,” I admit. “I should hate you with all my heart. The hardest thing to confess right now is that I don’t. I don’t hate you, Walker. I love you, even if you’ve put me through hell and back. I don’t understand it myself. But I’ve come here to ask you to come home. Come home to your son. We’ll talk to this Hawk man together.”

I can practically hear the gears in his brain turning as I wait in silence for him to tell me I’m right and that he’s coming back, that he’s sorry for everything. But he doesn’t say that. Instead, he says, “I’m going to give you an address. If you stay there, you’ll be safe. You’re being followed, Erica. I told you not to come.”

“Followed?” I choke, glancing around to see if anyone is looking my way. “By whom?”

“Hawk. His men. They’re keeping tabs on all of us. You don’t understand. There’s war going on by proxy. There are people who want Hawk gone, but his last fight is through me. If he gets to you, he’ll have the upper hand. You need to listen to me,” he says.

“I miss you,” I find myself saying. “I want all of this to end. I’m not sorry I came here. I couldn’t bear the thought of you leaving me for good again.”

“Come to this address,” he says, giving me an address quickly. “Meet me there in an hour.”

“Okay,” I say. He hangs up the phone.

* * *

I shuffle quickly through the dimly lit streets, feeling the jet lag quickly creep up on me. I knock on a door, next to a boarded up house, and Walker opens the door, peering out. “Quickly,” he says, pulling me in.

“What’s going on?” I ask him. “Walker, I want to help you.”

“Come upstairs and we’ll explain everything,” he says.

“We?” I ask. He motions up the stairs and I follow him, holding onto his masculine hand. I want to be home with him. I want to feel his lips against mine. It takes every ounce of strength not to kiss his neck, or rest my head against his chest.

When we get upstairs, he opens the door and I can barely believe my eyes. “No,” I say. “You’re—”

“Mulligan,” Walker says.

“Sit down,” Mulligan says. “I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to save your bloody life.”

The young man next to him smiles and says, “The tables are turning, love. You’re witnessing history tonight.”

The old man, Mulligan, shoots him a sharp glance, as if that statement annoys him. “We’re keeping you safe, in exchange for your boyfriend’s help,” he says. “After that, you’re both free to do whatever the hell you please.”

“Keep me safe?” I look over at Walker, who looks tired. “I’m coming with. I’m not waiting around while he goes in there and gets himself killed.”

“You’d rather get killed too?” the young man laughs. “You’re best to stay put.”

“He’s right,” Walker says. “I don’t want to lose you and you have a child who would die without you.”

“We,” I correct him. “We have a child.”

“He doesn’t know I’m his father. Not yet, at least. If something happens to me, he’ll at least forget about me. He’d never grow up the same without his mother. A child needs his mother more than anything,” he says. He avoids tearing up, by glancing out the window and breathing through his nose. “No, I won’t allow it. You’re staying here.”

All three of them are staring back at me, waiting for me to protest again so they can shoot me back down. I give in to them when I think of Aidan. Walker is right in some ways, though I hate even admitting that. If I was to mysteriously disappear, Renata would be forced to raise him. He’d never be the same again.

“Fine,” I say. “I’ll stay. But at least tell me what you’re planning.”

“Okay then. Here it goes,” Walker sighs and tells me the plan.

“It’s simple, really. I go in, find Hawk, and end it right then and there,” he says.

The young man beside him lights up a cigarette and laughs eagerly to himself. “Right, and I take care of the rest of the people inside the bar.”

“And what about you?” I ask Mulligan, who looks patiently at me.

“I do nothing, but watch you, sweetheart,” he smiles, teeth decaying.

“A quick in and out,” the young man says. “Won’t that be fun?”

“I’m not exactly looking forward to this,” Walker admits. “But it’s something I’ll have to do. For her. For my family.”

It’s hard to take any of this with a grain of salt like they are. Walker’s eyes tell a different story. They bear the look of pain, regret, and burden. But if he dies, he won’t have to live with the level of sorrow I will. He won’t have to tuck Aidan in at night. If I lose him, I’ll have lost everything. That’s why I can’t let him mess this up. That’s why I’m devising my own plan to get him back home with me.

Walker

“In and out. Just like you said. I want this to be done as fast as fucking possible. I never want to see these streets again,” I tell Edward.

“What’s the matter? You don’t like me?” he laughs.

“Just shut up and keep walking,” I smile.

Hawk. Killing him is going to be like killing my father. It needs to be done, but there’s a level of sadness attached to it. I never wanted for everything to get this bad. All I wanted was a separate life. A new life. A man who works hard deserves that much.

“You sure you can do this?” Edward asks me. “You can go through with it?”

“I can do it,” I nod mindlessly. “How hard will it be? I pull the trigger and run.”

He slaps my shoulder and rubs his head. “I’ll take care of the rest.”

We get to the old bar and I feel my stomach turn. “Fuck,” I sigh. All my memories. My broken childhood. It all comes to this. I feel numb as my hand touches the door. My eyes glance to both of the side windows. Inside, there are men watching the game. I can hear glasses clinking, slurs being yelled, and some laughing along with it. Good riddance.

I walk in and everyone turns to me. Edward stays outside, smoking and on the lookout. I don’t say a word, and I keep walking.

“What are you doing here?” someone I can’t recognize asks me.

“I’m looking for Hawk,” I say. My gun placed strategically in my pants, but I still worry they’ll find it.

“I’m not sure he wants to see someone like you,” he says, standing up. The other guys stand with him.

“I’m sure he will.” I smile. “He’s been waiting for me, or so I’ve been told.”

The man turns and gives an arrogant smile to his crony’s. “You know the rules,” he laughs. “Arms out. Feet spread apart. No one sees Hawk without a proper search.”

Fuck. I’ve never been searched like this before. Usually, Hawk just guided me through. I had privilege back then. Now, I’m like a wanted criminal, making his way into a courtroom. The man’s hands search throughout my body. Nothing so far. Nothing, until, “There we are,” he smiles. “Trying to get through with this?”

Another man says, “Undo your trousers.”

I take off my belt and pull the weapon out. I slide it across the floor, along with my heart. There’s not much hope for me now.

“Alright, he’s clean now,” he says.

His friend smiles and asks me, “You ready to see the boss? You’re right about one thing. He’s been waiting for you. Though, I can’t say the meeting will be all too friendly.”

“I don’t give a damn how friendly it’ll be,” I say. “I’m ready. Let me the fuck through.”

“Fantastic, mate.” He keeps his smile wide and leads me through he dim hallway to Hawk’s office. My whole life flashes through my eyes. When I was a boy, walking through this narrow hallway felt endless. I knew something was awaiting me at the other end. I always thought it was the future I wanted. Turns out, it was far from that. It was the future I would end up wanting to destroy.

Three knocks on the door is all it takes. Hawk coughs and the man opens the door. “I’ll leave,” he says. Hawk nods. He’s holding a lit cigar in his hand. He barely evens looks at me before motioning for me to sit down.

He looks much older than he did when I last left him. He looks feeble. I start to actually feel bad for the man, but then I realize all of the horrible things he’s done to people. I may have grown up as a hooligan, but I never killed anyone. This man has murdered hundreds for money and power. His reign needs to be extinguished.

“I’m not surprised you came back,” he says. “In fact, I prepared quite vigorously for it.” He starts coughing violently.

“You look sick,” I say. “Am I your last conquest?”

He laughs. Still coughing, he holds onto his chair with all his might. “I suppose you could call it that. I’m old. Yes, I’m sick. I’m probably on the last of it. It’s a shame, innit? I never thought it would be this way, but you never know how life will surprise you.”

“That’s true,” I nod. “Enough of the small talk, Hawk. Tell me what you want with me. Are you out to kill me or bask in memories?”

“You were always a smart boy, leagues ahead of everybody else. I knew I couldn’t just throw you onto the streets, but I figured you’d be my successor,” he says. “Now, it’s obvious that you’re my match. You came here with a weapon, no doubt?”

“It has been taken from me,” I say.

I wait to hear the scuffle happening outside the door. Edward should have come in at any minute, but I’ve yet to hear anything.

“You’re waiting for Edward?” he asks. My stomach sinks. I feel lost and numb. What the fuck is going on here? “He won’t be coming. I’m afraid you’ve been duped.”

“Duped,” I reply. “What are you telling me, Hawk?”

“I’m telling you that your time is up. Yes, I’ve come to kill you. There’s no way out. I’m terribly sorry.” He smiles and coughs some more. He spits out a glob of blood onto the floor and sighs.

“Not if I kill you first,” I say, knocking the table over. I completely black out. All I feel are my hands around his fleshy neck. I can hear the choking sounds coming from Hawk. He doesn’t even try and fight it. It’s almost as if he’s ready…

“Get your bloody hands off him!” Suddenly, the door bursts open and I’m face to face with Edward and the men from the bar. There are at least three of them, but they have blades and my gun. I take my hands off him and feel myself get shoved onto the floor. A boot lands straight across my face and stomach. The air immediately gets knocked out of my body.

“Fuck you,” I manage to spit out. “Fuck you all to hell.”

“Ha!” Edward claps his hands together and kneels down, so we’re looking at each other face to face. “You’re bloody easy to fool, my lad,” he says. “Did you really think we were on your side?”

“You helped me,” I say. “You helped me escape. I paid you.”

“True,” he says. “But of course, I had to get you back here, right? Hawk’s orders.”

“I don’t blame Edward,” Hawk steps forward, clutching at his neck. “He has paid for his mistakes.”

When I look back at Edward, he takes his hands out of his jacket pocket. I notice huge burns trailing up his wrists. I imagine they extend all the way up his body. One of his fingers is missing, as well. He scowls at me and puts his boot against my foot.

“And now, lad, it’s time for you to pay for your mistake,” he says.

“I have a son,” I say out of desperation. “He’s five years old.”

“Keep your mouth shut,” Hawk says. “I don’t have any feelings toward children. They’re like cockroaches to me. They fiend. That’s all they’re good for.”

Hawk stands up from his chair, wobbling a little bit and making a strained noise. He grabs his cane and stares down at me. “Oh, my little protégé. It’s time,” he says. He brings his cane down across my face and I feel the blood trickle down my cheek.

“Aidan,” I whisper. “His name is Aidan.”

“Shut up!” he screams.

But he doesn’t know who he’s dealing with. I’m not going to shut up. If I’m going to die, I’m going out with the memory of those I love. Fuck the rest.

“His name is Aidan,” I say. “Her name is Erica.”

“Get him out of my face!” Hawk screams.

“Aidan!” I yell. They try to pull me out of the room, but I grab onto the door. I rip the door off the hinges. “Hawk, I’m going to kill you, you son of a bitch.”

They all start beating on me at this point. I have no idea who is hitting me when, but I hear Hawk scream, “Rough him up all you want, but leave him breathing. I want him alive.”

Why? A boot hits my teeth. I feel a few crush against the steel toe boot. I spit them out and feel another blow on my kidneys. They’re killing me. The pain is immense. All I can do is try and block them, but eventually, everything starts to fade.

They’re killing me. I swear, they’re killing me. “Stop!” Hawk screams, but it sounds far away from where I am.

Erica. They’re killing me. I’m so fucking sorry for everything. I tried my best.

Erica

Over an hour passes and Mulligan is still staring at me from the other side of the room. He’s flipping a pack of cigarettes in his hand, but when he lets himself rest, he resembles an old mannequin. “Please,” I ask him for the tenth time, “leave me to myself.”

“I can’t let you out of my sight,” he says. “Orders.”

I have such a bad feeling about all of this. I don’t trust this man, nor do I trust the kid with him. They look rough, yes, but it’s the eyes that tell the whole story. They’re lying. They’re going to set him up and there’s nothing I can fucking do.

“Well, at least give me a cigarette,” I tell him. “You can come down with me outside and make sure I don’t leave.”

“No can do,” he simply says.

“You afraid you couldn’t catch up with a girl?” I laugh. “Seriously? What am I going to do? Run away?”

“Oh, bloody hell,” he sighs. “If I give you a cigarette, will you give it a rest? I’m tired of hearing you talk.”

“I promise.” I smile. He hands me a cigarette and opens the front door of the room. We both walk down the stairs and I take a breath of fresh air. “It’s been forever since I’ve had a cigarette. I’ve been craving one since I stepped off the plane,” I lie.

“I don’t care much for your life story,” he says. “Just on with it.” He steps in front of me.

What can I do to get out of this? I reach into my pocket for a lighter, but of course, I don’t have one. I feel the blade inside my jacket. It’s the knife I stole from Renata’s house, some hunting knife she didn’t know she had. I look up at Mulligan and take another deep breath. I’ve never done anything like this before.

My hand trembles and there’s a split second where Mulligan opens his mouth and widens his eyes. In that split second, I can see him realize what’s about to happen. I grab onto the knife and I pull it out. Am I violent person? No, I’ve never been violent in my life. But this is my son we’re talking about. I’m not taking any chances with that.

I don’t even feel the pressure as the blade sinks into his leg. He reaches into his own pocket, but he’s left his weapon inside the upstairs room. There’s a look of shock on his face. It’s as if he’s seen a ghost. Only, I’m not a ghost. I’m just a pissed off mother who wants her life back to normal.

“Give me the address,” I tell him, pushing the knife in deeper. I pull it out and stick it into his abdomen. He screams with a wild fury.

He tells me the address, but not before supplementing it with, “You fucking bitch.” I put more pressure onto the blade before pulling it out. As I run toward Hawk’s address, I look back only to find him crawling to the doorway. He’s right. I am a “fucking bitch,” but I’m the fucking bitch who just stabbed you in the gut.

Hawk’s place isn’t far from where we’re at and I worry that Mulligan will somehow fix himself up and follow in behind me. There’s no time for fear, however. When I get to the old wooden door, I carefully look in the window. Spare for the light in the back, there’s no one in the bar area.

I slip inside, feeling my heart slam against my sternum. Then, I hear the screaming. It’s that fear-for-your-life kind of screaming, the torture kind of screaming. I hear three or four young men laughing and yelling unintelligible slurs and an old man calmly reciting what he needs. “No,” I hear someone say. “Please just leave my family alone.” It’s Walker and they’ve got him.

I head toward the noises, hiding my breath as I bounce on my toes. The door in front of me is half-closed. I can just see enough of Walker’s face to know that he’s still alive, but who knows if they’ll keep him breathing in a few hours.

“This is for Aidan,” I keep saying it over and over in my head. I don’t know how it came to this. Darrin and my life before was nothing that I wanted, but this is above and beyond.

Walker looks up at me and he tears up. His face is dripping blood and sweat. His eyes are practically begging for me to leave, but I can’t do that and have a clear conscience. It’s time to finally act. He keeps silent and looks away as I stand behind the bathroom door in the hallway.

“Get me a pint,” the old man says. I’m assuming it’s Hawk, but I can’t be too certain. “Leave us alone for a while. We’re celebrating tonight.”

The men come out, laughing. One of them says, “Hold on, mate, I have to use the loo.”

I quickly duck behind a stall, lock it, and listen as the man’s boots come inside. He starts humming the Manchester football anthem and that humming soon turns to whistling. He hits against my stall, and I hold my breath as he notices it’s locked. I put my feet up as he looks down.

“Hey!” he screams. “Hey Edward!”

“Piss off,” I hear Edward say outside the bathroom.

“One of these here doors are broken!” he screams. “Damn thing won’t open.”

“I said, piss off!” Edward yells.

The man jiggles the stall one more time before sighing and giving up. He walks over to a urinal and uses that instead. For a good two minutes I’m trapped inside this bathroom with him, but when he leaves, I can breathe a sigh of relief.

“One pint for Hawk,” someone says outside the door. I hear footsteps leave again and I’m assuming they’re alone now. I can hear the muffled voice of Walker too, but he’s fading in and out of consciousness and he’s not speaking loud enough.

I quietly open the bathroom door and step out into the dimly lit hallway. I peer to my right. The rest of the guys are sitting around the bar, drinking loudly. They’ve turned a game on and they’re screaming at the TV.

When I’m at Hawk’s door, I position myself so I can see Hawk’s back. I have the bloodied knife in my hand and I’m shaking. No, I’m trembling. I’m a fucking wreck, but I manage to pull myself together.

“I’m going to make sure you and your family will never make it back home again,” Hawk says.

“Aidan,” Walker says. “He needs his mother.”

“Aidan will be taken care of,” he says. “Don’t you worry about that. He’ll have his godfather Hawk around. He’ll do just fine.”

The trembling turns to a rising fury inside me. Before he can even turn around, I’m inside. I hold the knife in front of me and I just stick it forward, while closing my eyes. The blade inches inside his left side and I hear him make an anguished cry, but it’s muffled. I leave the blade in him and untie Walker.

“We have to leave,” I say, tears falling down my eyes. I don’t know what I’ve done. I know it was me holding that knife, but it felt like I was completely absent. Out of nowhere, I start repeating, “I just wanted all of this to go away.”

“Erica,” Walker stops me and kisses my forehead. I collapse into his arms. “You’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of. This ends tonight.”

He picks me up in his arms, but not before he grabs a pistol from Hawk. When he leans forward, Hawk whispers, “You were always a son to me. That’s why I had to do it. We were supposed to be in this forever.”

Walker steps onto his stomach and pulls the knife out. Hawk is bleeding so badly that his skin has turned white. “You’re too pathetic to answer to,” he says.

He kicks open the door. In one hand is the pistol. In the other is, well, me. The men inside don’t even see it coming. Walker whispers, “Cover your ears,” and unloads the whole clip on them. Bullets fly, glass shatters, the TV is destroyed, and the men fall to the ground like dominos. Edward is the only one left standing, but barely. He’s got two bullets lodged in his leg.

“Let me go,” he pleads. “I’ll leave you alone. Just let me go.”

“You’re all pathetic. You come after my family again and I’ll destroy you,” Walker clenches his teeth and spits with rage.

“Yes, yes, I swear,” the young man begs, falling to the floor. “Please! Just leave!”

We break out of the bar and I feel relieved, yet shocked by all of the events that occurred tonight. “What’s going to happen?” I ask, as I try to get a grip.

“We’re going to go home,” he says. “We’re going to get married. And we’re going to raise our baby boy.”

I start to cry even harder, but they’re not tears of pain or sorrow. No, they’re tears of joy. Nothing is ordinary right now, but at least I have my man, and the son of my dreams. I wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world.

He dips his head down and our lips meet in a frenzy of passion and pure happiness. For a second, the whole world fades out. It’s only me and him, consumed by our love. When he pulls his lips from mine, I open my eyes and stare at him lovingly. Everything is on its way to being perfect. It’s almost there. All we have to do is get home.

Except, right behind him, clutching his gut, is Mulligan. And he doesn’t look happy.

Walker

“Walker!” he screams. The streets are empty and my body is completely exhausted. Erica came in at the right time, but they burned the palms of my hands with corrosive materials. I can feel the pain wearing me down. But if there’s another fight I’m going to have to give, I’m ready.

He points his gun at me. “What do you want?” I ask him. “Let us go home. Hawk’s dead. What use is killing me now?”

He keeps his gun aimed at me, but his hand is shaking wildly. He’s considerably weak. “That bitch of yours killed me,” he says.

“I don’t see you on the pavement. Get to a hospital. You’re wasting precious time,” I tell him.

“I’d rather get my revenge,” he says, shifting on his heels.

“I have no history with you,” I reason. “Please, put the gun down.”

“Our gang is over with,” he says idly, like he just came to that understanding now.

“You’re right,” I say.

Mulligan falls onto the pavement and his gun slides away from him. “Just go,” he says. “Leave us in ruins.”

I carry Erica out of there, through the back alleys, making sure she’s safe from anymore unexpected visitors. When I turn to look at Mulligan, he’s laying in a pool of blood.

* * *

“We escaped,” she says, head resting on my shoulder. It’s as if she can heal me with just one touch. It just feels so right when I’m with her. “I can’t believe it. It’s over.”

The plane we’re on is steady and calm. All around us is a clear sky and there are no sharp gusts of wind. Everything is peaceful. I finally have the woman of my dreams.

“You did it,” I laugh. “You’re my hero.”

She laughs too and kisses my neck. “We both did it,” she says. “Aidan did it. He gave me a courage I never thought I had.”

Aidan. I can’t wait to see my son. “As soon as we land, I promise, I’m going to be the best dad he’s ever had,” I tell her.

“I know you will,” she whispers. “I know it now.”

“I’m so sorry for everything,” I say. “I know I haven’t been a stand up guy. I know I’ve kept so much hidden from you. But I only did it to try and protect you. I failed in that regard. I never want to disappoint you again. I’m fully yours. Always.”

My burns hurt me, but I’m not crying. My wounds only make me stronger. The idea that I can raise my son in peace now is the only thing that has kept me going. That, and the knowing that my love is safe and in my arms. There’s so much to be thankful for. The hard life I once had is now over and done with. I’m here, Erica. I’m finally here.

“It’s all over now,” she says. “Just do me two favors.”

“Anything,” I say.

“When we’re back home, let’s never speak about this again. We have too much to look forward to, to give into our troubled pasts,” she says.

I kiss her and hold her close to me. The plane begins its decent. “Done,” I tell her. “And the second favor?”

She smiles and looks down. “Promise to fuck the life out of me.”

I falter for a second and chuckle with surprise. “I’m never going to let you out of my grasp,” I say. “I’m going to leave you soaking wet.”

We don’t waste time. When we get home, Aidan is still at Renata’s and I’m ready for my bride-to-be. Kissing her wild and uninhibited, we tear off our clothes, until she’s standing in front of me, completely naked. She takes a step back until she’s against the wall. Her hand clutches around my cock and as soon as I see that sweet pussy of hers, I don’t hold back.

She moves her hand back and forth, as I firmly grip around her wetness. She’s dripping for me and I’m aching to feel her again. She leads the way, turning around. She pressed her ass firmly against me as I kiss her neck passionately. “Fuck me,” she coos. She spreads her cheeks apart and I watch as her lips open up for me.

I’m never going to let this woman go. Never.

I guide my cock inside her, spreading her open. The warmth I feel is like no other. It’s similar to being parched on a hot desert day, and stumbling upon an oasis of cold water. I fuck her slow and close and we take the opportunity to moan as loud as we want. Today is our day. It’s our celebration. “We’re in love,” is all we’ve ever wanted to tell the world, and now we’re ready to tell it. Our story doesn’t end here. This is where it begins.

Her back against my chest, her hot pussy clenching around my cock, and my arms folded around her body is the absolute picture of perfection. When we cum, we don’t stop. We just keep going. We lose ourselves to each other, over and over again, because we never want to lose each other to the world again.

This is our home. This is our family. I’m not fucking this up again. I’m never letting go.

Erica

“I’m fucking trembling,” I say out loud, clutching my temples.

“Come on. Sit still,” Renata says, while combing my hair. “What do you have to worry about, anyway? This is everything you’ve ever dreamed of. You’re getting married!”

I let that sink in. I close my eyes and I start laughing with joy. “I’m… I’m getting married!” I scream.

“Ah!” she shrieks back. “I’m so fucking excited for you!” We’re both practically jumping out of our seats at this point. Still, my heart is beating so fucking fast. I’m getting married to Walker Hambell, the man of my dreams.

“Do I look okay, Ren?” I ask her, feeling the nervousness of the situation start to creep in again.

She looks at me and smiles with tears in her eyes. “Oh, sweetie,” she says. “You look like a goddamn angel right now.”

I look up at her, in her bridesmaid dress. She looks beautiful too. Walker and I don’t have much of a wedding party, but I’m glad she’s here with me today. I couldn’t have asked for a better friend to stand by my side.

“Thank you, Ren.” I smile. “Thank you for everything.”

“You’re on in five minutes,” Carla, the wedding planner runs in, holding a clipboard. “Are you ready for your big day?”

“I’m ready,” I firmly state.

I hear Jeff Buckley’s Hallelujah start playing outside and I immediately stand up and try to maintain my breathing. “This is your day, baby girl,” Renata whispers in my ear.

I walk outside and see my father, who has gone through so much this year, standing with a cane. He looks at me and smiles, and I just can’t keep down my emotions any longer. I start bawling.

“I love you, sweetie-pie,” he says, kissing the side of my head. “You’ll always be my baby girl.”

“This one’s for real, Dad,” I whisper. “He’s the man of my dreams.”

“I know he is, sweetheart,” he says.

It’s been two years since Hawk’s death. Two full years. In the autumn air of California, at this outdoor sanctuary, I can breathe easy knowing that those events are behind us now. Aidan, my sweet baby boy, has grown up so fast. Seven years is a huge jump from five. He’s practically a man now and though sometimes it’s still hard, he loves his dad even more, now that he knows.

As we walk, I can feel everyone looking right at me. Yet, I don’t feel jittery anymore. When my eyes meet Walker’s, I know everything is going to be okay. He looks so fucking handsome in his suit. And right beside him, is Aidan, looking proud and stoic, while holding the rings.

Sure, we’re not the most traditional family, but I never wanted that in the first place. All I wanted was a little adventure, and a whole lot of love. I’ve got a heavy dose of both, thankfully.

When I’m up at the front, I look into his eyes. He gives his vows, leaving me stunned. He says, “Erica, from your eyes to mine, my eyes to yours. Our lives have changed forever in an instant. Into the layers of my existence, a new sun has given itself to ignite my nights, to fill my emptiness. Now, my words have been received, my prayers answered,” he pauses only briefly to compose himself.

“Life itself is the most fortunate gift we have received — that is something I have always known — but to share that secret with one another brings an urgency to my life I could never have foreseen.

“I sit and think about our first night together, so ripe with passion, conflict, and love. We were just getting to know each other, yet we knew of our love. We knew no one could destroy that which was within our hearts. I’ll never forget that moment, even if directly after was full of difficulties. That’s life sometimes, but moments such as that one, live on forever.

“

Nor will I forget the quiet streets of England, where I promised myself, that I couldn’t ever lose you. Our future was set, even if it didn’t feel like it yet. Back in time, when we first met, I felt it when you let me put my arms around you. We looked in each other’s eyes in that dingy motel, and the lights that adorned the ceiling met our gaze and guided us towards an intimacy of precedence. We just talked. We talked so much, about unbelievable things; we made promises to each other that could never be broken. The world around me meant nothing. It was you that I had fallen deeply in love with. I kissed you that night and I felt an unimaginable happiness within me form. From then on, I was yours. Forever until the day that I shall pass.

“

How could I grow tired of your intimacy? How could we grow apart? It is impossible. We are together, bound by an immense desert known as Time. We are alone, with only our whispers as the truth.

“We will always have the day at the park, when I looked at the sun reflecting off your hair and knew you were the only one for me. I cannot share these moments with anyone for they are far too sacred, far too beautiful and monumental to put into words, and even though I appreciate music, those moments must remain unsung in order to preserve their glory.

“Yes, we will fight, we will fire words at each other —words we do not mean, words we will regret. We will have days where we can't stand each other, but even so, I know we will still need each other to come back to the paradise we have made for each other. I know I'll still need to feel your kiss, the warmth of your body that I have grown to known as my own. And if I grunt or complain of situations, you tell me how I wrong I am. Because I will always be there to share your pain, to rub your back when you feel life is a bit too much, to protect you, and most important, to be your best friend. Because that is what those that are in love do. They love.

“You have shown me everything I have been missing. It was you, Erica. I love you and I am utterly grateful for every moment spent with you, and I stand before you and the world around us, to declare my love. To all that have been, are, and shall be. Forever and always is my promise to you.”

I’m left speechless and shaking again. “You jerk,” I whisper with a smile on my face. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said about me.”

Everyone starts clapping out of nowhere and I notice that everyone is wiping their eyes. When I met him, he was the boyfriend experience. I guess this is the husband experience I’ve been waiting for.

Before the priest can even tell us to kiss or say “I do,” he grabs me in his arm and yells to the audience, “We do!” Our lips smash together and I’m left crumbling in his arms, with so much fucking love.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he says.

Aidan walks near us and whispers, “You guys, you forgot the rings!” He scowls at us, looking handsome as ever.

“The rings!” Walker laughs. We grab each other’s ring and smile, gazing wondrously into our eyes.

“You are forever,” he whispers.

Epilogue: Walker

7 years later…

“Yes!” I scream, feeling the air conditioning whip across my face. “You got this, Aidan! Go! Go! Go!”

I’m standing courtside, jumping up and down, screaming the life out of me. I want to yell, “That’s my son out there!” but then I’ll be that old, loser dad. I can’t embarrass him on his big game day.

He dribbles the basketball across the court, weaving in and out of the defense. He jumps up to make a three-pointer and it goes in without even touching the backboard. “Yes!” I scream. “Hell yes!”

All of the parents turn to look at me and Erica is just rolling her eyes. “Sit down, Walker,” she laughs. “You’re embarrassing me.”

I sit down, out of breath, with a big smile on my face. “He’s absolutely mental out there!” I exclaim. “I’m so proud.”

“He’s amazing, isn’t he?” She smiles back and puts her head on my shoulders.

“Can you believe we’ve raised someone so talented?” I whisper. Aidan looks back and gives a cool nod at us, his lame parents. I wave back eagerly. I’ve cooled down a lot since the old days. Aidan and Erica are now the only things I yearn to see throughout the day. It’s incredible to think about all of the things we’ve been through, good and bad.

Every night, I still think about the vows I gave at our wedding. I hold them close to my heart, so I never forget just how good I’ve got it. I never want to take this love for granted. In the end, we got really lucky. Now, we have the whole world in our hands.

PTA meetings, doing homework, the dishes, and going out to movies every Sunday – this family thing is the best thing I’ve ever had. I never thought I’d live to see the day that I’d turn into a real adult, but it’s here now and I’ve jumped fully into it.

I watch eagerly as Aidan steals the ball again from the other team. He dribbles the ball, passes it to a teammate, who takes the shot. He misses, but Aidan goes up for the rebound. He drives it into the hoop and the buzzer echoes across the gym. The Grasshoppers win the game! Aidan has won the game.

I run out onto the court, alongside other parents who are excited to see their son’s school win for the first time. The team picks up Aidan and holds him above their heads. I jump up and give him a high five. These are the moments a parent never forgets. Every year, he grows so much bigger. Now, he’s practically a man. I’m the proudest father there is.

“There’s my boy,” I say, as the crowd fizzles out. “Man, you nailed it out there. You’re the best on the team!”

“Thanks dad,” he says, humbly. “I’m okay, I guess.”

I still haven’t figured out how to talk to teenagers. It’s almost as if I’m talking to a brick wall. “You’re the best in your school,” I assure him. “There’s no doubt about that. Remember when we used to play, when we lived at the house on Wilshire? You used to love going to the park back then. We should go back someday.”

Memories come tearing into your heart sometimes. There’s not much you can do other than try to hold onto them as tightly as you can. “I remember,” he says it simply. “I’m game. You think you could take me on?”

“You? The MVP? You’ll annihilate me,” I laugh. “But I have to try.”

“Come on, you two!” Erica calls out from the bleachers. She’s been sitting in the front, waiting until the gym cleared out completely. She’s wrapped in her pea coat and drinking a hot chocolate and boy does she look as cute as ever.

“Alright! Let’s go!” I clap my hands together.

Tonight, I’ve been getting all these flashbacks. Sometimes it feels like you live multiple lives. I try and pinpoint how I got here. Here I am, fulfilled in just about every way. But when I started out, I had nothing. There was Hawk, the gang, and the streets I grew up on. Now, all of that is over. It’s as if it never happened.

Was that me? I still don’t know. I feel as if I’ve found myself, finally in someone else. It’s funny how that happens sometimes. You search and you search, and you fight the world around you. But when you see her, you realize you need to duck your head and fight for one thing only: Love. I found love in Erica. I didn’t know Aidan would come from all of this, but the surprise was well worth it.

At home, Aidan goes into his room and I can hear him talking to his friends, on his phone. Erica and I take a step outside, and we roam around the acre-long backyard we bought just after the incident in Manchester.

There’s not much that’s said. The crickets echo in the distance. The stars are covered by the lights of the earth, but I know they’re out there somewhere. Tonight, is a period of reflection for us parents, because tonight is one of those nights our son will look back on and smile.

“I love you, my sweetheart,” I whisper. She intertwines her fingers with mine. I kiss her cold cheek and smell her perfume. It’s the same scent she’s worn since I met her. I close my eyes and remember it all. The pain, the anger, and the uncertainty of it all. I almost miss it, though I know the present can always be missed if you don’t keep an eye out for it.

“Forever and always,” she says, reminding me of my vows to her.

“That’s my promise to you,” I repeat.

“You mean it? Even after all these years?” she asks.

I look at her and place my fingers against my lips slowly. I arch my head down and kiss her, keeping my finger in between us. “I think about you everyday,” I whisper. “When you go to the grocery store, I think about you. When you’re in the other room, I’m dreaming about you. When I’m with our son, I can’t help but think about you. You are my world, Erica. You’re everything to me. I would rather die than live without you.”

Her eyes reflect against the moonlight, like glass orbs. I place my hand around her waist and feel her skin. She hasn’t aged a bit, or maybe I just haven’t realized it. I feel her gorgeous tits and I still want to stuff my face in between them. I roll my fingers over her nipples and she moans lightly against the cold night air.

“Walker,” she moans. “Aidan is inside.”

“So what?” I smile wildly, remembering the time we spent in the women’s bathroom. My cock grows hard and thick against my basketball shorts. She feels it against her legs and gulps.

She doesn’t protest after that. I feel her wetness with my fingers and I begin fingering her slowly. “You like that?”

“Harder,” she whispers. “Make me your slut.”

I have to admit. She’s gotten more intense sexually since we’ve grown older. I always thought your sexual prime was in your 20s, but it turns out, it’s around your 40s.

I fall to my knees and stuff her beautiful cunt in my mouth. She drips against my tongue and I enjoy her endlessly. Her thighs wrap around my shoulders, like she’s about to go for the ride of her life, and she clutches against my hair, moaning loudly now.

The crickets stop making their noise to listen. Luckily, Aidan begins blasting music in the other room.

“Taste me,” she moans. “I’m close.”

I focus my tongue against her clit and start pumping my fingers faster and harder. I massage her pussy in an upward motion. She works so fucking hard. She deserves to cum. Keeping my tongue working on her, I become fixed with intense pressure. I’m glued to her.

When she starts twitching, I know she’s about to give it to me. I quickly take out my cock and I hold her down. She screams, “Yes!” as my hand wraps loosely around her neck. I thrust hard once. I pump twice. And when she opens her eyes to tell me she’s cumming, I cum inside her, just like that night at the motel.

“Fuuuuckkkk!” I scream. Her pussy feels so fucking good around my shaft.

“Walker!” she moans.

“I love you, Erica,” I moan, releasing every last ounce I have inside my body.

There’s nothing real in this world, except for the novel moments you share with the ones you love. Whatever happened in the past is the past. It’s turned to Ash. When we’re eighty and chipping away at our memories, I know that I’ll still have her by my side. And when she’s down and out, I’ll be there for her because that’s the kind of guy I am now.

Remember the boyfriend experience? Yeah, well. Let’s pretend that never happened.

Author’s Note:

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For all my new readers, I’ve included another one of my books: Irresistible. It’s all free and I really hope you enjoy and continue to read all my new works. Thank you so much.

Helena

The move has been hard on me. With college behind me now, I set out to the Midwest. Illinois, actually. A small town called Canton. It’s not exactly my dream town, but it’ll do. Besides, I am ready for a change from the hustle and bustle of Manhattan. I can’t take that lifestyle anymore. Parties, drinking, always being up at the crack of dawn — that kind of life gets to you after a while.

I’m getting older. It’s time to find out who I really am. Of course, my friends are all completely shattered over the fact that I’m leaving them. “You’ll hate it out there,” they told me. “Canton, Illinois is the worst place on the planet. I’m pretty sure there’s like no people under 50 years old.”

I figure it’ll be a nice change of pace. Besides, Chicago is just a short drive away.

I set out to become a teacher. Despite my friends’ constant groans, this is what I’ve always wanted to do with my life. I want to help kids grow through their circumstances. America doesn’t have the best education system, but the country deserves the best teachers and I’m willing to try and be that.

When I set my suitcases down and the movers have unloaded all of my boxes into my house, I sit in the study and look out the window. It’s snowing outside and it’s beautiful. I go and make a cup of coffee and sip the hot contents. There’s nature out here. Real nature. Trees, bushes, and even the occasional animal runs by.

In New York, we had all of that too, only it was covered up by skyscrapers, and the concrete jungle that is the Big Apple. Here, I can breathe freely. I can finally rest knowing that I’m part of a community.

When I finish my coffee, I click the light on in the kitchen and notice it’s broken. In fact, I test all the lights in the house and none of them turn on. “Dammit,” I mutter. I grab a new set of bulbs and try them. Still, nothing is working. I add that to my list of things to do this week and walk outside into the cold.

I head “downtown” for the Winter Parade and Festival. I don’t know a soul out here and I figure it might be a good place to meet new people, maybe even people my age.

I grab my bike and go, feeling the cold winter air against my face. The snow is light and just forming around the sides of the street, but there’s a visible path toward downtown, which is only about ten minutes away from my home. The downtown here is quite a bit smaller than the one I’m used to, but it’s got a nice quaint feeling to it. That, coupled with the festivities of the season, I feel like a child again, carefree and happy.

I glance to my right and see a squirrel scurry up a tree. To my left, other cyclists ride by. In front of me, the marching band slowly walks by, with their bellowing trumpets and crashing cymbals. Everything is so beautiful here, I just feel so—

I hit an ice patch and skid, veering until I crash into a big man, and then a pile of snow, bike sliding from underneath my feet. “Shit!” I yell, plunging headfirst. I completely black out.

I open my eyes to a sea of people forming around me. If this happened in New York, things would be different. People would just walk by me, ignoring my pain.

“You alright? You crashed right into me,” someone says. It’s that man I slid into, but it’s not like I meant to. I glance over my shoulder and see him, tall and strong, standing over me.

“Shit,” I say again, covering my mouth. “I’m okay, I think. Sorry about that.”

He’s got tattoos and a military-type haircut. “It’s okay. Just try and watch where you’re going. It’s not really the time of year to ride your bike around,” he says, holding his hand out.

“Okay,” I sigh, disregarding his hand. I help myself up, feeling annoyed he would even say that to me. “Sorry for ruining your day I guess.” I rub my head and get back onto my bike

“Hey, wait,” he says, as I pedal away. “You shouldn’t get up so fast. You could have a concussion!”

“Leave me alone,” I find myself saying. I could have said worse. If this happened in the city, I would have flipped him off. However, I know customs are a little different here. People act a little politer. Well, sort of. That guy was kind of a dick.

Muscular, tall, broad-shouldered, and a total prick. Great. Somehow, I know I’m going to run into him again. This town is way too small not to.

I park my bike in the center of the festival, locking it up tight. I head for the nearest kettle corn stand. That was always my favorite as a kid. “Hey,” I hear his voice again. Dammit. Just leave me alone.

I turn around near the stand. “What?” I ask him. “Look, I’m sorry for bumping into you. It was an accident, okay?” I stand there, breathing quickly. I don’t know anyone out here yet and so far, the interactions with the townsfolk aren’t going too well.

“I just came over here to—” he starts talking, but I interrupt him. I don’t care what he has to say. I didn’t invite him over for a full-blown conversation.

“Can’t you just let it go?” I ask him. “I told you, it was an accident.”

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he says. “Okay? I didn’t mean to rub you the wrong way. I was startled myself. I just wanted to know if you’re really okay. You hit your head pretty hard.”

“Oh,” I stop myself, taking in a deep breath. “Um, yeah. I’m fine.” I finally get a good look at the guy and even though he’s the type of guy I would assume would be a total dickhead, he’s actually got very kind eyes.

“Okay, good. I’m sorry again, ma’am, but I had to make sure before I head back into town to do some repairs. You’re all good? You sure?” he asks.

I notice him glance at my tits quickly and I blush. He looks away fast, trying not to be rude. Still, I saw it. “No, I’m okay,” I tell him again. “Thanks, and, um, I’m sorry again.”

“I’m sorry too,” he says, looking away awkwardly.

“We’re both sorry then,” I smile, looking down.

“Okay, well, uh. Nice to meet you, ma’am,” he says.

“Hey, you do repairs?” I ask him, remembering the broken light switches.

“Yeah, I own a repair company,” he says. “You need something fixed?”

“Yeah, actually. I have some light switches that won’t turn on any lights,” I tell him.

“Did you try new bulbs?” he asks, smiling.

“Yes,” I haughtily reply. “Do you want my business, or what? You have a card?”

He reaches into his wallet and I can’t help but notice his undershirt, clutching to his abs and chest. His biceps are practically ripping at the seams. I gulp down and quickly make eye contact with him, hoping to God he didn’t see me just do that. When he smiles and hands me his card, I know that he saw me. Ugh.

I quickly make up an excuse. “Did those hurt?” I ask him, motioning at his tattoos.

“Nah,” he laughs. “Not worse than getting shot.”

I take his card and pocket it. “What? You’ve gotten shot before?” I ask him.

“Long story,” he laughs. “Anyway, I gotta run. Call me if you want those lights fixed.”

He walks away and I’m left staring at the man’s ass, moving up and down in those jeans. I pull out his card again and look at his name. Addison Williams. Do I really want to do this? Do I really want to hire that hunk of a man to fix my house? The answer is an obvious: Yes, ma’am.

Addison

That woman is one piece of work. First, she crashes into me. Next thing I know, she’s yellin’ at me. I can’t believe it. I’ve been around the world and back, but I’ve never met a chick like her. I know it was a short encounter, but there’s something about the way she carries herself that’s different from most people around this town.

Plus, she totally caught me staring at her tits and didn’t say anything, so I’m pretty sure she’s game. Not to mention, her eyes weren’t exactly making contact with mine either. I didn’t get her name, but I’m hoping she calls back. If anything, it’s another paycheck.

After the war, things have been a little crazy for me. You go into combat because you believe that you can make a difference in the world. You want to protect the people you grew up with, and the rest of the country depends on you. Take the present, for instance. Things are out of control. If I was a bit younger, I’d sign up all over again.

Only thing is, when you get out, you’re back in the real world. You’re not with your SEAL brothers anymore. Sure, you have your merits and your pins, and all of the memories. However, all of that good stuff just starts to fade into the past.

I took to drinking, fast, and to hot women. I came back home to Canton as a hero. You think I wasn’t going to celebrate immediately? Hell no. First thing I did was head down to The Office, a bar not too far from downtown. I always loved that place because when people called you up, you could tell them you were stuck at The Office and not be lying.

So I grabbed a few drinks and some pussy, and had the best week of my life. After all, that’s what I live for. Well, that and taking charge of my surroundings. I’m a fighter, plain and simple.

But after a while, you start to realize that people could give two shits about your battle scars. They could care less that you saw your best friend get killed in a ghost town overseas. They don’t want to hear your war stories, about the glory you once had. They want you to get the fuck to work.

“Make something of yourself,” my dad always told me, right before he left us high and dry. “Go out into the world and do something, for Christ’s sake.”

Of course, those words would be best spoken by someone else. I don’t think that man ever had a steady job in his life. So, I guess I’m doing better than he was at my age, and that satisfies me for the time being. I can get over all the war shit. I don’t even bring it up anymore. What’s the point of reminiscing?

I knock on my next job’s door and wait for the old woman to open it. “Who is it?” she calls out, knowing full well we scheduled this appointment.

“It’s me, Mrs. Faraday. It’s Addison,” I call out. “I came to fix that sink.”

“Addison who?” she asks, walking to the door. She always does this. It’s like clockwork.

“Addison Williams, Mrs. Lawdale. Can I come in?” I ask.

“One second! I’m getting ready,” she says. I roll my eyes when the door inches open and I see her scurrying away.

“What the fuck,” I whisper.

“Don’t come in,” she calls out as the door keeps inching open. This woman is about 65 years old and every time I come over, she attempts to seduce me. It’s gotten real old at this point. “I’m still changing.”

“Alright, I’ll wait,” I call out.

“Oh, don’t you come in yet!” she says again. “Really, don’t come in.”

“Ma’am, do you want me to fix that sink or what? I’ve got a tight schedule I need to abide by and—”

She opens the door, wearing lingerie and I immediately cover my eyes. “You’re so pushy!” she exclaims. “There, you happy? I couldn’t get dressed in time because of you. I feel so… violated.”

“Excuse me,” I push my way into the house and find my path to the sink.

“You should start in the bedroom, over here,” she calls out to me. “I think my dresser is broken.”

I sigh and turn toward her bedroom. She’s laying on the bed when I walk in and I struggle not to laugh. It’s not that I don’t like it when women want me, but she’s a little out of my range. No, that girl earlier… that’s closer to my type. Sweet, spicy, and a perfect hour-glass shape. Damn, I hope she calls.

I test each drawer to her dresser and notice they work perfectly fine. “The dresser looks okay,” I say, walking out of the room. I head to the sink again and test it. It’s also working. “Shit,” I sigh. “I’m leaving, ma’am. Everything in this house is in working order. You don’t need my services.”

“But I do need your services!” she calls out. “Addison!”

But I’m already at the door and I’m walking out. “Wait!” she calls out. “Ever since my husband passed, I—”

“Please don’t call me anymore. I’m getting tired of this,” I tell her off and get in my car, blasting my music as loud as possible. I peel out and head home.

It used to be I could pull as much tail as I wanted with this job. There’s always a housewife who wants the thrill of getting with the repairman who’s ex-Navy. One look at my tattoos and they’d answer the door on their knees. Now, however, it seems as if all the younger people have moved away. Ever since the economy crashed, people just changed.

Now the place is empty and I’m stuck with women like Mrs. Lawdale. All I want is for that woman on the bike to call me back. She’s different. She’s an outsider, like me.

I head home and turn on the lights to my empty house. Home sweet home. The phone rings and I jump at the receiver, answering it as quick as I can.

“Yeah?” I answer.

“Bro, it’s me, Halloway,” my buddy says.

I sigh, to his dismay. “Ah, what’s up?”

“Don’t sound so bummed. Jesus, man. We haven’t hung out in weeks. I thought you’d be excited,” he says.

“I thought you were this woman I met earlier,” I laugh. “Sorry, man.”

He laughs loudly. “Scale of one to ten,” he says. “How hot was she?”

“She was beautiful. I don’t know, maybe an 11. Maybe a 12,” I say. “Get this. She crashed into me on her bike. I told her if she needed any repairs, she could always call me.”

“Well, she has to call you now,” he jokes. “Hey, let’s go out to the town dance and find some women to take home.”

“I don’t know man,” I sigh. “Don’t you think you’ve outgrown that ritual?”

“What do you mean? You love showing off your moves,” he laughs. “Come on, we never hang out anymore. You’re too busy for me. We could get some drinks and take some women on the Ferris Wheel.”

“Alright, I’ll go. I’ve got nothing better to do,” I acquiesce.

“Alright, I’ll meet you there. Give me a couple hours,” he says.

“See ya,” I hang up the phone.

I love this small town, but I’m starting to get a little bored of doing the same thing. I guess that woman crashing into me changed me a little today. Maybe it woke me up. Perhaps I was already heading there. Either way, I hope I see her tonight. I know I’ll be keeping an eye out.

Helena

My boss, the principal of the school, invites me out to the local dance at the fair. It seems to be the thing to do around here. It’s either that, or I stay in, so I decide to go, despite my reluctance. This time, however, I don’t bring my bike. I walk instead.

At night, the wind has started to chill things quite a bit. When I walk, I tread carefully. “Hey!” I hear a deep voice call out. “Hey you!” Apparently, I don’t tread carefully enough because when I turn, I see him. The repair man.

I glance slightly and briefly make eye contact with him, but keep walking. Shit, I think to myself. You’re screwed. You have to face him now. “Hey!” he calls out again.

“Addison?” I turn and fake a smile. Sure, he’s hot and I guess he’s not that bad of a guy. He did say sorry earlier. I just don’t think I’m ready to start mingling with too many people yet. This is my first week in town. I still haven’t even unpacked all my things yet. I’m not about to start dating someone, let alone someone who’s clearly ex-military, or army, or whatever he is.

“Hey, you remembered,” he slowly jogs over. “Headed to the dance?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I purse my lips together awkwardly and put my hands in my pockets to keep from getting too cold.

“Want my gloves?” he asks. “You look a little chilly.”

“I’m good,” I stubbornly say, though I do want those gloves.

“Alright, suit yourself,” he sighs. We walk in silence for a few seconds before he says, “So, are you liking Canton at all?”

“What makes you think I’m not from here?” I ask him, seeing the lights of the carnival in the distance.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “You talk like you’re from the city. I know because I lived there for a good six months.”

“You caught me,” I laugh a little. “Six months? What, you couldn’t take it or something?”

“Nah, I hated it,” he smiles. “It’s a bit too hustle and bustle for me. You have to work your ass off out there. What’s the point in that?”

“Yeah, but there’s things to do on every corner,” I say.

“There’s things to do on every corner here,” he says. “You just can’t see it.”

“Oh, yeah?” I laugh.

“What’s so funny?” he looks offended. In front of us is a patch of ice. “Watch your step,” he mutters.

“Nothing. You’re right, I can’t see it,” I say. “Guess you’ll have to show me, huh?”

At this point in our walk, we’ve reached the foot of the fair. Kids scream on the Zipper ride, families stuff their faces with deep fried goodness, and the feeling of community is all around us. That’s something I really admire about these small towns, and even though I’m not trying to date anyone, I’m starting to think that maybe this is just the custom around here. I need to learn to open up better to people. This isn’t the city. I don’t need to be as closed off and reserved.

“You want me to show you?” he asks. “Really?”

“I’m meeting with my boss right now,” I smile. “But maybe after. You know, if we happen to run into each other.”

“What’s your number?” he asks me.

“You’ll just have to find me.” I wink, separating from him.

“Your name? Anything? You gotta give me something. Come on!” he pleads, dropping to his knees jokingly. Who am I kidding? He’s cute, in a big and burly kind of way.

“Get up! You’re going to get mud all over your pants,” I say, but he just stands there, soaking his kneecaps in the wet snow.

“I’m a lowly repair man,” he laughs. “You don’t think I’m used to this?”

“Alright, alright!” I shout. “My name’s Helena.”

“Like Mount St. Helena? The volcano that killed 50 people?” he asks, smiling.

“You know that’s Mount St. Helens, right?” I laugh.

“Same thing to me,” he shrugs. “I guess I’ll see you around, Helena. Tonight, hopefully.”

“If you can find me,” I smile and turn away, realizing that I may have been, possibly, flirting with the guy.

Truth is, I don’t know what I’m doing out here. I’m just floating along, it seems. But I do know that he’s been okay towards me, so why not flirt a little? A little flirting never hurt anybody, right?

I walk toward the dance and sit down at the benches, off to the side a bit. “Helena?” I hear a soft voice mutter. I turn to see a portly looking man with glasses, smiling. “Hey, it’s Fred Kneeves, the principal at Canton Junior High. How are you?”

I jump up and shake the guy’s hand. “Hey! I’m great! I’m so excited to teach on Monday!” I exclaim. “How are you doing?”

“Good! Good!” he says, brightly. “How are you liking the town so far?”

“I love it,” I say. It’s not exactly a lie. I do really enjoy it. It’s different from the city, but little by little, I’ve started to get used to it.

“Great, well, we’re really happy to have you here,” he says. A woman next to him awkwardly touches his shoulder and he jumps. “Oh! I almost forgot. This is another staff member, Judy Owens. She teaches mathematics. I think you two will get along great.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” She smiles.

I shake her hand and say, “Likewise.”

“You two should grab a few beers tonight. Judy can show you around a little,” he says, smiling.

“Well,” Judy says, “I could use a drink right now. Want to grab one at the cart?” She motions over to a booth selling alcohol.

“I would love a drink,” I admit.

“Great, let’s go,” she says. Fred is jovial and aloof, just happy to have his staff getting acquainted with one another. From what I know, Canton Junior High has had a high turnover rate in the last couple of years.

“You’re our only hope,” Judy whispers. “Everyone’s moving away from Canton.”

“Why?” I ask her, concerned I may have picked the wrong city to teach in.

Judy shrugs. “The economy. There’s not much work here. Most of the teachers were married to men with long careers. They found work elsewhere. Sold their houses. That kind of thing.”

Behind Judy, Addison walks by smiling at me. He’s with another very buff guy who pounds back a pitcher of beer. Addison has his own and when he spots me, he does a little dance, mimicking Michael Jackson’s “the robot,” while spilling beer all over himself. I can’t help but burst out laughing. Judy looks stunned.

“Sorry.” I cover my mouth, feeling incredibly rude. “I just saw something funny.”

Judy turns around and sees Addison. He stops as soon as she looks at him, effectively throwing me under the bus. I turn bright red, knowing that she’s going to think I’m crazy or something.

“It’s okay.” She hesitates and turns back to me.

Of course, Addison starts dancing wildly again to the music, spilling more of his beer all over the place. His friend is even embarrassed by him, but I can’t help but laugh at how goofy he looks. He then winks at me and keeps walking.

“Do you know those guys?” Judy asks me.

“No, I don’t know anyone yet.” I smile. “They seem pretty weird though, right?”

“Girl, everyone’s weird here. They’re fine as hell.” She laughs. “Look, I get it. You’re from the city. I grew up in Baltimore. I think that’s why Fred brought me here. I’ve been teaching here for a year now. He’s a little clueless.”

“Thank God,” I whisper. “Another person from the city.”

“I got you.” She laughs. “Canton is a different vibe, that’s for sure. But it’s nice out here. People are really friendly.” She orders two beers for us and we continue to walk around the fair.

I can still see Addison in the distance, though to my annoyance, he and his friend seem to be checking out some other, younger women right now. “You really think those guys were fine as hell?” I ask her.

“Girl, if I were you, I’d be torn. I wouldn’t know whether to stay away or whether to jump in his arms,” she says, cracking up.

“Well, you’re right. That guy over there.” I point over to Addison and he glances over. “I keep bumping into him. Do you know him?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen him around,” she says. “He’s, like, the town handyman, right?”

“Yeah,” I shrug. “I guess so. He gave me his card.”

“I’ve heard he’s kind of a ladies’ man,” she says. “You know the type. Big and buff. ‘I’ll fix your pipes, Mrs.’ type of guy.”

“Ugh, why is that hot to me?” I laugh and drink my beer, watching him check out that stupid girl.

“Girl, why is it hot to all of us? The world is full of mystery,” she laughs with me. “Either way, I think you should go talk to him.”

“No!” I hiss at her. “I don’t even really know the guy.”

“Come on,” she laughs. “I’ll go with you. You need to meet new people, right? Well, now’s your chance.”

Judy grabs my hand and pulls me over to him. I nearly spill all of my beer onto my jeans. I take a deep breath and go along with it. Fine. She’s right. I need to become more acquainted with the townsfolk. Right. That’s why I’m doing this. It’s not because I want to sit on his fat cock. I like speaking to people.

“Enjoying the view?” Judy laughs. Addison and his buddy jump up and avert their eyes from the woman in the red dress to us.

“What view?” Addison smiles and extends his hand out to Judy. “Hey, I’m Addison. Oh! This is Halloway.”

“Howdy,” Halloway tips his deer-hunting hat at us and turns back around.

“What are you two fine ladies up to?” Addison asks us.

“We’re bored,” Judy says. “You two looked interesting. My friend here is from the city. I thought I’d show her around and introduce her to some of the Canton natives.”

“We met earlier,” he smiles. I swear he looks me up and down and bites his lip. The look in his eyes makes me slightly uncomfortable, while also sending waves of butterflies throughout my stomach.

“Oh, I see.” Judy smiles. Halloway glances back over to her and checks her out. “So, what do you guys do?” Judy asks.

“Drink,” Halloway lifts up his beer and sips it down.

“Well, he took the words right out of my mouth. We, uh, drink,” Addison laughs slightly and takes a sip from his pitcher. “And I repair stuff sometimes. You know, when I need some extra money. What do you do? I never asked you earlier?” His eyes are focused on me and I’m just staring at his pecs. I can’t help it. I’ve never seen anyone so… manly. It’s a bit overwhelming.

“Who me?” I nearly spit out my beer, adjusting my eyes back to his.

“Yeah you! Who else, darlin’?” he asks, touching my shoulder. Goose bumps shoot across my neck and I swallow my saliva down hard, feeling my pulse quicken to a furious degree. Darlin’? Really? Ugh, slay me now, please!

“I’m a teacher.” I smile. “I teach English at Canton Junior High.”

“That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard,” he says. “I don’t think I could ever be a teacher.”

“Why not?” Judy asks him. Halloway is staying silent, just drinking and checking Judy out.

“Seems like hard work. Harder than fixing sinks, anyway. I remember what I was like in junior high. Spit wads, tackle football, and running around creating havoc. That was pretty much me back then. I wouldn’t want to teach a room full of that.”

“Well, I start in a few days,” I laugh. “So, we’ll see how it works out.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to rain on your parade,” he looks down at his boots awkwardly. They’re brown, tied loose, and rugged looking, with splotches of mud all over them. “I’m sure it’ll be nice when you start. People are friendly here.”

“Don’t worry. I was a teacher’s assistant for a year before this. I know how young kids can get.”

“Hey, you guys want to dance?” Halloway suddenly asks. I feel my heart drop. Dancing. Oh God. I’m horrible at dancing.

“Brother, you know I want to dance,” Addison laughs, slapping his knee. He finishes his beer and slams the glass down, turning over to me. “Come on, honey. You want to dance with me? It’s innocent enough, right?”

He lends his hand forward and I instinctually grab it. He’s got rough hands, the sign of a hard worker. I instantly feel myself get wetter and wetter by the second. Still, I hate dancing. I deplore it! I follow him to the dance floor, pleading with him. “Oh, come on, Addison. I’m terrible at dancing!” But Judy is already with Halloway, dancing to whatever country song is playing from the large speakers.

Addison smiles and spins me around. “Welcome to Canton, honey,” he says.

Addison

Helena is right. She cannot dance to save her life. I can’t help but feel like it’s the cutest damn thing I’ve ever seen. I spin her around and she bursts out laughing, tits bouncing up and down. Come on, I have to look.

What I would give to feel up her shirt…

But I keep myself in check. I’m a good boy. Even though, I’m feeling a little drunk, I only had one pitcher. I’m not a full-blown idiot… yet. I spin her around once more and pick her up into my arms, circling over to Halloway and Judy. She squeals loudly and I set her back down gently.

“Oh my God!” she screams with a smile on her face. “Don’t do that again, Addison.”

The way she looks at me though, I know she wants me to pick her up again. She likes how powerful I am, how big and strong I am. Deep down, she sees my SEAL tattoos and it gets her wet as the Baltic Sea. She wants me to pick her up, to set her back against the wall, and to plow her until I fix her wetness.

The song ends and we all walk back to the seating area. “Hey, you want to check out the town?” I ask her.

“What do you mean?” she asks. “What’s there to check out?”

“There’s lots of things,” I shrug. “You know, we got a Hardee’s on the corner, down the way a bit. There’s a McDonald’s a few blocks up too. Oh! There’s an old Blockbuster Video nearby. Remember those?” I joke.

“A Blockbuster, huh?” she laughs. “Wow. Such luxury. I never knew Canton was so exotic.”

“Welcome, darlin’,” I say, walking away.

“Where you going?” she asks me.

“I’m taking a walk with or without you,” I shout. “I’d like you to come. That is, if you feel so inclined.” I’d like to make her come. That’s the real truth.

She looks over to her friend because women always need the approval of other women before they go out with men like me. Judy’s eyes go wide and she motions for her to come with me, saying, “I’ll be fine,” while she dances with Halloway. I swear, he’s on the verge of blacking out. That woman didn’t see him drink down his flask earlier. His eyes are half closed now, but that woman is looking fairly drunk herself.

“Fine!” Helena shouts. “I’ll come with. I need to get acquainted with the city, anyways.”

We walk outside the fair grounds and I put out my arm for her, trying to be as much of a gentleman as I can. Truth is, I’ve never been a gentleman. I’m a lowly repairman, ex-SEAL who fought in the last war overseas. I’ve seen too much to be a real gentleman, but for this woman, I’ll try my damn hardest.

“Let’s get some beers,” I tell her. Her eyes light up and I know she’s down. I walk into the nearest convenience store and pick up a six-pack of some lager. I run out with them in my arms. “We just made it. Alcohol gets shut down early out here.”

“Thank God!” she exclaims. “Where are we going?”

I shrug and laugh. “Hell if I know. But walking feels nice right about now.”

We walk straight and there’s not much, except for some big fields and the occasional row of houses. “So, Helena.” I break the silence. “Tell me all about wherever it is that you’re from.”

“New York City?” she laughs. “What do you want to know that you haven’t already heard?”

“Shit, you’re one of those girls?” I laugh. “I should have known you were a New Yorker. I guess you have a little bit of an accent.”

“One of those girls?” she asks, pursing her lips and squinting her eyes at me. “What’s that supposed to mean?” She looks so damn cute when she gets angry with me. It’s punishing to be around her. I just want to take her home with me.

I crack open two beers while we walk, and hand one to her. “Cheers,” I say, clinking our bottles together. “I didn’t mean anything by my comment, by the way. It’s just that the city women who come here don’t stay too long. It’s a pity ‘cause they’re all so damn beautiful.”

“I don’t know whether to take offense to that or not,” she says, taking another sip.

“It’s a compliment,” I say.

“You calling me beautiful?” she asks.

“Sure am, ma’am,” I smile.

“Ugh, don’t call me that,” she says, squinching up her face again.

“Sorry, habit of the job,” I tell her, honestly. We make our way to a large park and I turn left into it. “Follow me. This used to be my favorite spot in all of Canton.”

“It’s all slush!” she says.

“You got boots on. Don’t worry. You’ll be fine,” I tell her. “It snows in New York, right?”

The park lights are lit up and I see her roll her eyes at me, which only makes me smile bigger. We finally get to a park bench and I take off my jacket and set it down for us to sit.

“Thanks,” she says.

“So do you really want me to fix the lights in your house, or was that a weird way of asking me out?” I ask her.

“Don’t get so cocky,” she says. “I really have a broken light switch.”

“That’s too bad,” my hand falls next to hers and for a brief second, I can feel the electricity coming from both of us.

“Are you used to women coming on to you through the job?” she asks me.

I have to laugh at that one. “You have no idea,” I tell her. “Only thing is, most of these women are over the age of 60, so…”

“So obviously, you’re excited, right?” she jokes.

“Yeah, obviously,” I laugh. “Take today, for example. This woman invited me into her place to fix her sink. Turns out her sink is completely fine, brand new even. I turn around and she’s wearing lingerie. I had to run before she took me hostage or something. Not many people know how dangerous this job can get.”

“Sounds horrifying,” she says, though I don’t think she believes my story. “But you were like in the Army, right?”

I laugh a little. “No. I was a Navy SEAL. Special Reconnaissance,” I admit, nodding. “That was a lifetime ago though.”

“Were you both in it? Halloway too?” she asks.

“Yep.” I keep nodding. “We fought overseas. Wasn’t exactly the best time of my life either.”

“You’re not all patriotic?” she asks. Normally, I don’t like this type of questioning. There’s a lot I saw over there that I don’t want to think back on. Still, I know she’s got good intentions. She’s just being curious. Besides, maybe it’s a good thing to talk about what happened over there. Maybe it’ll help me cope a little better. I don’t want her to know about the flashbacks, though. I don’t want her thinking I’m out of my damn mind.

“Heh,” I fake a laugh. “That depends on what you mean by that. If you mean, do I fly my flag every 4th of July, then yes. But you won’t see me casting any ballots any time soon.”

“Fair enough,” she says, rocking her heels against the mud.

We drink some more and suddenly she drops her bottle and runs off, jumping around the snow. “You’re going to catch a cold!” I tell her, but she’s not listening. I run after her, but I’m a little drunk as well. As I chase behind her, I stare at her body. It’s wonderful. It’s that city living that does something to some women, and I fucking love it.

She stops, grabbing a tree stump, catching her breath. “It’s nice out here,” she says, almost as if it’s a revelation.

“Sure is,” I whisper, seeing the cold fog come from my breath.

“Think you’ll ever move away?” she asks me, turning around and staring into my eyes. She’s got that hazel eye color, the kind that changes depending on the light surrounding it. Right now, it looks dark green. I’m intoxicated, but more so by her than the alcohol. I don’t know how to explain the feeling, other than I am just grateful for her riding into me the other night.

Her cold breath touches against my lips and I’m hooked. I need her. I need to kiss her, to taste her, to feel her against my body. ‘Cause lately this cold world has been hurting my bones and bringing me down.

I need a little something to bring me back to normal, something to bring me back to how I used to be around people. The only reason I hang around Halloway so much is because he understands all the shit I’ve been through. He was right next to me when the bombs fell, and the bullets rained down like hellfire and brimstone. But I don’t want to bond over that shit anymore. I want kisses, flowers, puppies, and all that other frilly crap. I want to feel good for once in my life.

“Move from here?” I repeat her question. “I’m thinkin’ I might stay, now that you’re here.”

“Is that right?” she smiles, though there’s some hesitance in her eyes.

Fuck it.

I kiss her. I reach forward and grab her by the waist. The cold air envelops us and I swear, snow starts to fall on top of our heads. It’s fucking magical. Our lips crash and the waves of emotion ricochet right through me. This woman is captivating.

Only, when we pull away from each other to look into the other’s eyes, she starts breathing crazy and looks away from me. “What’s the matter?” I ask, but she’s in her own head.

“I, uh, I gotta go,” she says, walking away from me.

“Hey, wait!” I yell, stomping against the cold snow. “Hold on a sec.”

“I’ve got class in a few days. I need to prepare the syllabus,” she says, walking off.

“At least let me walk you home,” I insist. “It’s cold. I don’t want you hurtin’ yourself.” The excuses for me walking her home run out pretty damn fast. It’s apparent. She doesn’t want me. She made a mistake. She should have never kissed a man like me.

Well, I’m stuck on that wet park bench, my jacket soaking wet. My arms have goose pimples and I start to shiver as the alcohol quickly moves out of my system.

There’s nothing, except for the faint screams of children riding roller coasters and families eating cotton candy.

“Shit,” I sigh. Tonight fucking blows.

Helena

“Name?” the woman in front of me asks, while staring down at her clipboard. “Come on, I don’t have all day.”

“Helena Rollins,” I say, looking at the line of people behind me. “I teach 7th grade English.”

“I didn’t ask you what you taught,” the shrill, old woman says, glasses sliding down her nose. I can see the grease building up around her caked-on makeup with each passing moment.

“Sorry,” I mutter.

“Uh, she’s with me, Holly,” Judy butts in.

“Hey!” I exclaim. “How are you?” Judy hugs me and kisses my cheek.

“I’m good, but I’ve got a pretty bad hangover from last night,” she rolls her eyes and laughs.

“And Halloway?” I laugh.

“You don’t even want to know,” she says.

The old woman stands as a barrier between us. “I don’t see her name on the list. Only people with a name on the list are allowed in!”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Holly, but if you keep holding up this line, you’re going to have a straight up revolt on your hands,” Judy says, tapping her heels. “Do you really want to deal with that?”

She sighs and makes a note on her sheet of paper. “Just go on through, darn it,” she says. “But if Principal Kneeves gets on my case, I’m sending him over to you.”

“Thanks, Holly!” Judy smiles, grabbing me by the arm. “You’re a doll.”

She leans in and whispers in my ear, “God, I hope she passes soon.” I can’t help but burst out laughing. “Sorry, I know that’s wrong of me, but some people should not be around children.”

“She teaches here?” I ask her.

“Not only does she teach here, she teaches multiple classes,” she says. “I had to tell her once that she can’t hit kids knuckles with rulers. Can you believe it?”

“Insane,” I mutter. “Speaking of insane… Halloway?”

“Oh, God! Woman, let it go.” She presses her body against some lockers and covers her eyes dramatically. “He fell asleep. Is that what you wanted hear?”

“Wait, what? Fell asleep?” I smile, not getting the punch line.

“Yeah, like…” She takes a deep breath. “He fell asleep while he was...”

“He did not!” I scream. Some of the students’ parents turn to look at me.

“He did.” She fakes a cry. “He fell asleep and started talking to himself. Some weird war stuff, you know?”

“What, like screaming?” I ask.

“No, none of that,” she says. “Like, I think he thought I was a prostitute from overseas? Oh, I can’t explain this to you or anybody. It’s too weird. All you need to know is that I left his house as fast as I could.”

“Well, good for you,” I laugh. We continue walking toward the auditorium, where we’re giving our first introduction to the students and their parents. This is the most annoying part of the job. It’s mandatory and extremely boring for everyone involved. On the plus side, the kids are incredibly well behaved compared to where I assisted in New York.

During the assembly, Kneeves tells the parents a story about how he went to this school, and how he’s proud to say that his father also went to this school. There’s a lot more about school pride and such, but it’s all very redundant and it seems as if no one is really listening.

Judy whispers into my ear, “So, did you take Mr. Repair Man home with you?”

“Nah.” I chew on my gum like a middle schooler. I try to avoid the question by pretending that I’m listening very intently to what Principal Kneeves is telling everyone, but she knows better.

“Come on, don’t pull that crap with me. I told you something really embarrassing. You have to return the favor now,” she says.

“Is that how it works?” I ask her.

“Yes. Fair is fair,” she says, winking at me.

“Fine,” I sigh. “He took me to his favorite park growing up, after he bought me beers. He set his jacket down on the wet bench and we talked for an hour.”

“That’s it?” she asks. “He didn’t try anything?”

“Not really,” I lie. “We just talked and I got a little too drunk.”

“Wow, he sounds like a true gentleman. Are you sure you went out walking with a man, or—”

“Okay, fine. He kissed me,” I admit, closing my eyes tightly. The whole thing makes me feel weird.

“Girl, I don’t understand your deal. Isn’t that what you wanted to happen?” she asks.

I nod. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, I don’t know.” I breathe out harshly. “I don’t know what I want! He’s hot. But I never envisioned myself with a guy like that.”

“No one said you had to marry the guy,” she reiterates. “There’re no rules to these things. It’s not the fucking 1930s, is it? You’re a free woman. You can fuck whatever cock you want to fuck. Go forth and fuck all the cocks. It’s in the Bible, I’m pretty sure.”

“Judy!” I crack up, covering my mouth so no one in the auditorium can hear me.

“Sorry, but you know it’s true. You don’t need to feel guilty for sucking face with the town hottie. Everyone wants Addison. You actually got him. Good for you, girl.”

“Yeah, except for the fact that I ran away!” I say.

“You what?” She laughs. “You did not run away. Oh, girl. No. Why?”

“I don’t know!” I laugh. “I’m embarrassed as hell though. I left him the cold like that. Oh, God. I’m such a bitch.”

“Don’t worry,” she says, rubbing my back. “You’re fine. He probably doesn’t hate you. Not yet, at least.”

“What do I do?” I ask her.

“Well, first thing’s first. Do you want to fuck him?” She smiles. I nod. “Okay, but you don’t want to date him?”

“I don’t know about that,” I say, thinking about it. “I don’t really know him. I mean, he seems nice, I guess.”

“Yeah, well. Don’t let that fool you. They’re all nice in the beginning,” she rolls her eyes. “Still, you’re fine. All you have to do is apologize. Men don’t hold grudges like we do. No doubt, he’ll still want to tumble with you a little bit.”

“Tumble with me?” I ask her.

“Fuck your brains out. Whatever you call it. Sicko,” she adds.

The bells rings in the auditorium and we both quickly realize everyone has already started to walk out of the place. “Let’s go,” Judy motions.

We head outside and I notice that all the snow has melted. “It’s a bit weird we’ve already seen snow fall, but the past few years have seen some weird weather,” she says. “I hope they fixed the heaters. We should be fine for a few more weeks, but after that, it’ll snow pretty heavy. Last year, we didn’t have any heat for a full month. The new winter school schedule doesn’t help either.”

“Yeah, I thought it was a bit weird they start the school year here so late,” I say.

“Kneeves is a good guy. He’s proactive about things. There’s some studies I guess, that show kids learn better under a different schedule. So we start later now,” she shrugs.

We walk through the hall and my heart nearly stops when I see him. He’s screwing something into the heater when he turns to see whose heels are clicking against the freshly shined floor.

“Well, well, well,” Judy laughs. “Addison. Fixin’ the heaters?”

He glances up and huffs, and then looks back down at what he’s doing. Judy mouths the words “Good luck,” and keeps walking.

Ugh. I hate her for leaving me alone like this. I already feel terrible for last night. I wanted some time before I called him and apologized. Now, everything feels so fucking awkward and stupid. Of course, all of this is happening in the middle school I teach. This is total junior high crap.

“Hey, Addison,” I say, holding onto my purse as if I need it to keep balance.

“I’m working,” he says, turning his screwdriver.

“Okay, come on,” I sigh. “I’m pretty sure that screw is already all the way in. You don’t need to keep turning it.”

He sets the tool down and looks up at me. I can’t help but notice his skin gripping against his shirt, his muscles poking through. They’re practically begging me to hold onto them. Oh, I’m such an ass! I hate that I ran off last night. I absolutely hate myself.

“Yeah?” he asks. “What’s up? You going to run away from me again like I’m a monster or something?”

“I’m really sorry,” I say. “Seriously. I really am. I don’t know why I did it.”

“You did it because I’m scary, right? ‘Cause I’m a cold-blooded killer?” he asks. “Look, I know how the world looks at us Navy types. You think we’re all scumbags.”

“No, I don’t,” I try to tell him, but he’s on a rant now.

“Well, I’ve got news for you. We’re not all scumbags. Some of us got conned into thinking we were going to do some good over there. I just wanted to do good, okay?” he says, out of breath and still looking handsome as hell.

“Look,” I sigh, glancing over my shoulder. Everyone is out of the building now except for him and me. “I fucked up. I want to see you again.”

“Not going to happen,” he says. “I’ve been thrown in the dirt too many times. It always happens like this. I’m good with fuckin’ women and being done with them. I’m over this shit.”

I’m annoyed. I don’t want to hear his whole ‘I’m an American soldier’ speech. I don’t need to hear it. I walk forward and grab his hand, forcing it under my dress. His palm cups firmly around the center of my panties and I keep my eyes out to see if anyone is coming.

He doesn’t pull away. He keeps his hand on me. In fact, his palm cups firmer and firmer until his fingers brush around the sides of my underwear. I back away.

“Is that what you want? Are you going to stop being a baby and forgive me?” I ask him, feeling my heart beat against my chest. Fuck. I can’t believe I just did that. That was crazy of me, right?

His eyes are wide and he’s speechless. He looks parched, and he’s looking down at my dress like he wants to dive underneath. He nods. “I forgive you,” he says. “Shit, I’m really sorry. I—” He gulps down the saliva he has left, unable to finish his sentence.

“It’s okay. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” I ask him.

“Sure thing,” he smiles. “Tomorrow.”

I walk out of the school and meet Judy, keeping my little secret with me.

And that’s how you make things right again.

Addison

Am I dreaming? Did she really just force my hand on her cunt like that? Jesus Christ, I mean, that was insane. I didn’t know how to react. I didn’t know if she wanted me to go further, or if this was some kind of weird test women give to men now. All I could do was feel what I felt, and my cock went soaring into the fucking sky.

At work, I’m at some old bag’s house, fixing her doorknob. It’s barely even broken, but I’m taking my damn time because I can’t get my hard-on down. I close the door, make sure it’s locked and I turn off the light. I sit against the counter and unzip my pants, letting it spring out.

I don’t care how wrong it is. This is what this woman is already doing to me. I close my eyes and picture her full lips, those cute cheeks of hers, and those freckles underneath her eyes. Fuck, I even picture her eyes. They looked brown today.

Precum is already coming out of my cock and I’m spreading it around my shaft, just slowly moving my hand over myself. “Are you finished?” the woman asks me from the door.

“No, I gotta fix the top fixture here. It might take me another ten minutes or so. Sorry, ma’am,” I call out, but of course I’m still jacking off in the woman’s bathroom. Again, I don’t care. It’s practically a medical emergency. I need to cum or I’ll be in pain all day from what happened earlier.

“Okay, just call out to me when you’re done!” she says, walking away.

Right. Sure thing. I’ll call out when cum is plastered onto your ceiling. Am I vile? Am I perverted? Am I everything women hate about men? Probably. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting to degrade the very woman I keep thinking about. I picture her on her knees, spreading her cheeks for me, and waiting for my cock to penetrate her folds.

“Fuck,” I moan, feeling myself already close to the climax.

“What’s that?” the old woman asks from her bedroom.

“Nothing!” I exclaim. Dammit.

I run my hand over my shaft and start to speed up, gripping down much firmer now. I picture myself shooting my load inside Helena as she screams my name.

Addison! Addison! Oh, Addison!

I push myself in deep and feel the warm perfection of her cunt wash over me like a drug. She’s everything I’ve always dreamed of.

I cum.

I shoot my cum all over the woman’s floor, spilling some on my jeans. “Shit!” I call out, dropping to the floor to clean it up. The whole thing is comical. Me, on my knees, cleaning my jizz up from some woman’s floor.

“I’m done!” I call out, when everything looks spotless in there. I open the door and walk out, hiding my hands in my pocket, feeling the shame creep over me.

This is what love is really like. I used to watch those romantic comedies sometimes overseas and laugh. Love isn’t a nice box of chocolates. It’s not a bouquet of shitty flowers. Love is bending over and begging for it. Love is taking it all in and swallowing it down. Love is dirty.

“Wow!” the old woman exclaims. “You did one hell of a job in here.”

“No problem, ma’am. Anytime,” I smile. Anytime.

Helena

I call him while Judy is standing inside the café, ordering us both two red-eyes, so we can teach these maniacs as best we can. “Well, what do you want to do?” I ask him.

“What do you think I want to do, woman?” he mutters into the phone. I’ve opened Pandora’s box now. Ever since that little incident at the school, he’s been going crazy over me. At least, that’s what he insists on telling me. He’s been going crazy on the job, unable to fix things right, daydreaming over my… well, I don’t even want to say the word!

“You’re not going to get far if you keep talking like that,” I say, holding the phone nervously. I glance over at Judy in the line to make sure she’s nowhere near this conversation. She’s dirty, but I don’t want to tell her everything. At least, not yet. It’s embarrassing.

“You know you like it,” he says. I can picture his cocky smile against the receiver.

“I do not.” I blush. “Don’t you know how to woo a woman?”

“Why don’t you tell me, sweetie,” he says.

I scoff at that response, but continue anyway. “Women like subtlety. They like the mystery. You have to let them guess the big picture. You can’t just outright tell a woman you want to fuck them.”

“Why not?” he replies, the bastard.

“Because!” I hiss. “Because it’s wrong. It won’t work for you, at least.”

“Well, good. I never said I outright wanted to fuck you,” he says. “Now, you’re putting words in my mouth. What is that called? Transference?”

“Oh, God,” I moan.

“You’re putting your desires onto me now. How is that fair?” he laughs.

“You’re insufferable,” I tell him. “But you already know that, don’t you?”

“Sure do,” he says. “So, want to go out and see a movie or something? Is that more up your alley?”

“A movie? Is that what you small town men like to do in your free time?” I ask.

“Hell if I know,” he says. “I like to stay in.”

“Boring,” I reply. “Okay, we can see a movie, but only if we get a drink first.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he says. “See! We know how to compromise. We work so well together.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Goodbye.”

“See you later, baby,” he says, before I can hang up the phone.

“Ugh,” I sigh when I notice Judy standing over me with our iced coffees.

She sits down and smiles. “Addison, I presume?” she asks.

“How’d you know?” I ask her.

“Lucky guess, I suppose,” she laughs. “So, what’s the verdict? Are you two going out or what?”

“I don’t know,” I say, avoiding eye contact with her. “Maybe. Anyway, what’s your obsession with us going out?”

“I just want to see my new friend have some fun. That’s all. Is that a crime?” she asks, sipping on her drink.

“I guess not,” I sigh. “I still don’t know if it’s right, you know?”

“It’s never right,” she says. “Take a look around you. Does anything look right around here?”

I look around at the old couples eating their food. There’s hardly any talking going on. It’s odd to see people who have decided to spend their lives together unable to say one word to each other. “Maybe they’re just that comfortable with each other,” I reason. “Sometimes words are meaningless. Love trumps all of that, right?”

Now she’s the one who scoffs. “I guess. Heard that one before, but I’m not sure if it’s true. I think people just make a lot of bad decisions and reason that it’s the right path to take. Who knows if any of these people are actually happy? Do they look happy to you?”

She’s right, in a sense. Not too many of them are smiling and enjoying the nice day. “Well, we’re happy, right?” I ask her.

“Right now?” she asks. “Hell yeah, I’m happy. Ask me again in another hour, when I’m teaching those snot-brained kids.”

“Fuck, I don’t think I’m ready,” I laugh.

“Nah, they’re easy. Like, too easy, actually. Kids in this town have very little to prove,” she says. “The main headache is getting the school to budget better so we can get these kids some new computers. Anyway, what’s the plan with Addison? Come on, tell me what you guys are up to.”

Judy just pries and pries. She won’t let up. “We’re going to see a movie,” I tell her.

“Watch out,” she laughs, checking her watch. It’s almost time to head back to school. We both stand up and start walking toward the tan building in the distance.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I laugh.

“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “Is he going to put his dick through the popcorn bag? You know, you reach in and grab what you think is popcorn. Instead, it’s a greasy cock.”

For some reason I picture Addison’s cock and I instantly grow wet. Thinking of how big he might be has honestly been in my head for the past few days. The way he touched me… it was like he didn’t even question it. It was just right.

“Oh my god! No,” I laugh.

Judy shrugs. “I’m not saying it’s going to happen. I’m not saying it won’t either.”

“Wouldn’t that be kind of messy for everyone involved? I mean, he’d have butter all over himself. Butter and cum. Seems like a weird combo.” We both crack up.

“Girl, do you really think men care about what’s on their dick?” she asks. “As long as they’re cumming, they’re happy campers.”

“Gross.” I sigh. Well, tonight is going to be great.

“Don’t worry,” she tells me. “I’m sure it’s not as messy as it sounds.”

Addison

I keep it as simple as I can. Whiskey, food, and women. That’s all you really need in the life. It used to be, I went out searching for the magic. Anything to get me going, really. Anything that made me feel like I was more alive than I actually was. Now, I keep it simple. A nice movie. Dinner. My mouth between her smooth legs. That’s all I really want.

But I’m sure as hell not wearing any kind of suit. That’s out of the question. No, I keep it simple as pie. I put on an old pair of jeans, an undershirt, and a nice pair of boots. I’m a fuckin’ SEAL. She should know by now that she’s not going on a date with a billionaire or anything of the sort.

Still, as confident as I act, I’m still debating the whole thing. The way she left that one night was so out of the blue. I’ve got so many questions. Is she going to run off again? Is she just playing hard to get? I hate it when people play games. That’s my number one pet peeve. I like it straight up and raw.

I head out, combing my hair, while acknowledging the nice breeze outside. I get in my old BMW, the one I’ve had for at least ten years, and start the engine. Only problem is that it doesn’t start. It clicks over. “Shit!” I hit the steering wheel. “Come on, don’t do this to me now, babe.”

I turn the keys again and to my surprise, it starts. “Hallelujah!” I laugh to myself. I head over to the address she texted me a little bit ago and I have to raise a brow when I see just how nice the neighborhood she chose is. For a teacher, it’s a damn good area.

She’s outside, underneath the American flag that’s on hanging on her house. “Hey, Miss America,” I wink, window rolled down.

“Hey there.” She smiles, looking cute as hell. She’s wearing a white skirt and white crop top, and she’s showing enough skin to make my cock twitch against the zipper. She takes a deep breath before getting into my old car.

When she’s inside, I get a better look at her. Her skin is so fucking smooth. It makes me go crazy. She’s wonderful. I don’t use that word too often. It sounds a little hyperbolic to use often, but she’s the epitome of that word right now.

“You look gorgeous,” I hug her. She kisses my cheek out of custom I guess, or maybe not, and smiles.

“Thanks,” she says. “You look good as always. Want to get a little tipsy before this movie?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I smile, knowing full well she hates being called that.

She frowns jokingly and we head to the local dive bar, The Office, which is not too far from the theater we’re going to.

The drive is quiet, so I turn on some music to lighten the mood. On the radio is some R&B, and I dance to it, while driving.

“You listen to R&B?” she asks me.

“What? You don’t?” I stop at a red light and turn to her and start dancing, grinding my hip against the steering wheel, while smiling.

“I do, actually,” she laughs.

“Well, come on! Dance with me then,” I say. It’s a good icebreaker because dates are always awful in the beginning. There’s never anything to say and both people usually just want to go home and fuck, anyways. But you have to dress it up a little, so I do.

She starts to dance with me, until the light turns green, and then I floor it to the bar. “What’s so funny?” I ask her.

“I just didn’t think a guy like you listened to music like this, is all.” She smiles.

“What, you thought I listened to AC/DC all of the time?” I ask her. “Because I went off to war, or something?”

“Well… yeah, actually,” she laughs. “I’m sure you think I’m some nerdy teacher, right?”

“No, actually,” I say. “Teachers are always insane.”

“We are?” she asks me.

I nod confidently. “You grabbed my hand and forced it on yourself, right? That was you, right?” I glance down at her skirt and then back up to those beautiful shifting eyes.

Her throat gets tight for a second, before she takes a deep breath and relaxes, remembering who she’s dealing with. “Was that me?” She laughs. “I forgot.”

I give out a deep laugh as we pull into the parking lot. I jump out of my seat and grab her door, holding it open for her. “Such a gentleman,” she says, stepping out of the car. I glance down at her legs for the millionth time and I notice her black heels.

And then something different happens. At first, I think I’m just dreaming it, but it quickly becomes apparent that it’s reality. She grabs my cock and lightly feels my shaft. I’m hard within seconds. “Let’s get that drink,” she winks.

I groan and have to adjust myself, while she walks into the bar. I hurry to catch up with her, but I’m still fucking hard. She sits down on a bar stool and her ass comes crashing down against the leather right in front of my eyes. My heart races and my emotions go off the wall. What’s a guy to do when a woman is this good at playing games? Okay, pet peeve number one… I think I like it when women play games.

“Jesus Christ, woman,” I smile and sit down. “You serious right now?”

“What?” She plays innocent. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” I admit. “I just—”

“I’m making up for the other night,” she says. “Bartender, we’ll take two whiskey cokes, please.”

“How’d you know that’s what I was going to order?” I ask her.

“Just intuition, I guess,” she replies.

I put my hand against her thigh and push my stool close to hers. She smells like evergreen and nightshade, a deadly combo, but I’m already hooked to the core. She’s a smart woman. She knows that she’s got me locked in her crosshairs. When she doesn’t push my hand away, I know that I’m totally fucked.

“So, is this movie we’re seeing any good?” I ask her, trying my best not to bend her over this bar and force everyone to leave with my lewd actions.

“That romcom?” she asks. I nod and she just shrugs. “Probably not,” she laughs.

“What’s your angle?” I ask her. She goes from hot to cold, to hot, and cold again so fast I can’t keep up with her. But she doesn’t have to say anything for me to know what her angle is. She guides me with her eyes, looking down at my crotch, and I know she doesn’t just want me to pay for drinks. No, tonight, she wants something much bigger.

“No angle.” She smiles. “Tonight is all about having fun.”

But within a few minutes, Halloway walks in, stumbling drunk. When he’s five feet into the bar, I can already smell the alcohol coming from his breath. “Shit,” I mutter, trying my best not to make eye contact with the guy.

“That’s your friend, right?”

“Yes,” I mutter. “I can’t believe he’s here. Well, I can, because he’s a drunk, but the timing is too spot on.”

“Addison?!” he screams near the jukebox. Everyone turns to look at him. When they see that he’s staring at me, they all look at me.

Even the bartender is worried. He leans over the bar and shakes his head. “If your friend doesn’t leave, I’m going to have to kick all of you out,” he says, wiping his hands on a towel.

“He’s not with us,” I mutter, feeling like I need to sock the guy across the face.

“Addison, don’t bullshit me,” he says. “Come on. Get your friend out of here.”

Somehow, Helena thinks the whole situation is hilarious. She laughs and watches as I struggle deal with Halloway.

“Addison!” he screams again. “I’ve got a bone to pick with you, motherfucker.”

“Come on, man,” I sigh, jumping off my stool. I throw my arm around his shoulder and say, “What are you talking about? Bone to pick? We’re brothers.”

“Always?!” he screams. The whole thing is embarrassing.

“Always, man.” I sigh. Fuck, I’m ready to never talk to this guy again. I don’t care what we went through overseas. This is so much worse.

“Why haven’t you called me?” he slurs his words. “It’s ‘cause of that girl. We never go drinkin’ anymore,” he says. I have to drag him outside and set him down on a bench. I even call a cab to pick him up. The whole thing is a fucking disaster.

“You good?” I ask him, as he gets into the car. Inside, I can see Helena sipping the last of her drink. That’s when I know the date is ruined. Again. Great.

“I’m fantastic,” he smiles as the cab drives away. “Hooyah,” he says, saluting. It’s fucking embarrassing.

I walk back in, ready to say goodbye to Helena and destroy some sad sack who talks to me the wrong way.

To my surprise, she’s already grabbed her purse and headed my way. The date is ruined.

She walks right by me.

Helena

I walk right past the guy, smiling, knowing that his heart is practically beating out of his chest. I don’t know what it is, but seeing a man like that squirm is a crazy sight. To his surprise, I grab his hand.

“Let’s skip the movie,” I say.

“Fuckin’ Halloway,” he whispers, with anger, balling his fist up.

“Let’s go back to my place instead. I can show you that light that needs fixing.” I smile.

His eyebrows rise and a short smile creeps onto his face. “Sure, ma’am,” he mimics himself. “I’ll get it up and running for you.”

I’ve never felt so much tension coming from anyone before. Normally, men just expect this kind of treatment. I think Addison probably does with most women, but for some reason, he acts different around me. He acts like he actually likes me. So, when we’re in his car, I turn to him and look in his eyes, trying to figure him out.

“What do you want with me?” I ask, adjusting my seat back. He instantly eyes me up and down.

“Is that a trick question?” He grins. “I think you know what I want.”

And it happens like that. He reaches down between my thighs and pushes the lever under my seat. He presses it down until it clicks. The whole time he is steadily watching my eyes. He slides my seat back and moves over me. Our breathing intensifies. We both want each other so fucking bad that it hurts. We’re both aching for one another. Whatever hesitance I once had about him has gone right out the window.

We push our foreheads together and for a few seconds, we continue to stare. I smile and everything crumbles around me. He kisses me again and his cologne sweeps into my senses. He smells like a man should. Oak, whiskey, and the faint smell of sawdust from working.

Our lips crash against the shores of our desires and the feeling we both feel is akin to mountains falling apart near the sea. I close my eyes and feel his body close to mine, as our breathing connects into a rhythm unknown to me. The truth is, I haven’t felt this way since high school. I haven’t been this turned on since then, because all men seem to let me down by being too eager. He rides the line just right.

Maybe it’s because I’m new in town. Maybe it’s because he fulfills more fantasies than one. Or maybe me crashing into him the other day was just fate. I can’t be sure. All I know is his hand is crawling up my skirt and I’m loving every second of it. His palm cups around my panties, just like the other day at school. Only this time, he grips harder.

I push my body closer to him and he grabs my hips and holds me steady. “What’re we doing?” he asks, pulling himself back.

“Driving to my place so you can fix my lights, right?” I smile and bite my bottom lip.

“Oh, yeah. Right.” He smiles right back, looking dapper as ever. He’s hot. Really fucking hot. Charming even.

He dips his head back down and kisses my neck. Endorphins shoot inside my brain, goose pimples push against every corner of my body, and my heart seems to feel more alive than it has ever felt before. I open my legs further and he pushes against them. I unzip his pants and he comes barreling out. I’m astonished.

I mean, really. Astonished. I reach down and feel his huge splendorous cock and I actually feel a little afraid. “It’s been a while, for me,” I say.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’ll be gentle.”

He pushes my body toward the back of the vehicle, until my legs are practically over his shoulders. He licks around the edges and then looks up at me. “Real men eat pussy,” he says, which actually makes me incredibly wet.

He licks my inner thighs, inching his way closer to my lips. He reaches up cups my tits, circling his fingers around my nipples. I’m paralyzed by the anticipation of it all. Finally, his tongue meets my lips and enters me. He breathes in deep and pulls out, swirling it around each fold. He’s tender and methodical, and every so often he pulls his face back to wipe my wetness around my clit.

“You wanted this bad,” he says. “Admit it. You’re soaking wet.”

I nod, unable to even breathe properly. The way he eats me is like no other guy. I’ve had one night stands, long-term boyfriends, and men that tell me they loved me. None of them went down on me on the first date. None of them ate my pussy like he does. He inserts two fingers inside of me and I’m fucking done for. I squirm. I writhe. I beg.

“I know you want it,” he says, tonguing around my clit. He pulls back my hood and wraps his whole mouth around me. He sucks on me like a delicious pear. His tongue slides up and down, in and out, with a rhythm I can’t keep up with. Soon enough, my whole body seems to shake. No, it’s both my vision and my body.

My senses no longer seem the same. I feel so different now. I—

I lose it. I fucking lose it, all over him. My pussy trembles with ecstasy, as I fall down the rabbit hole into complete satisfaction and shock. It’s nothing I’ve ever felt before. He stands above me, stroking his cock with one hand, while fingering me wildly with the other. But he knows just which buttons to press. That’s when I realize, handymen know how to fix everything.

He begins moaning with me, pressing against my g-spot. His hand circles around his shaft, until finally I see it bulge to an unearthly size. “I’m cumming,” he says. He strokes himself until thick streams of cum shoot out above my pussy. Some of it shoots higher, onto my stomach. He leans over, kissing me while strenuously moaning. This turns me on to no end.

He kisses me and pulls back, sucking on my tongue. Then, he falls back down again and kisses my pussy, despite his cum. He doesn’t give a fuck about being messy. All he cares about is pleasing me. He licks my pussy, until we’re both gasping for air.

When he jumps back into his seat, I have to lean over and kiss him again. “That was…” I can’t even finish my sentence. How can you describe something so insanely good? There are no words.

“Uh, yeah,” he says. I can’t help but notice that he tastes of my pussy. I look at his arms and they’re bulging against the seams. God, dammit, he’s too hot. Why does he have to be this hot?

He starts the engine of his car and I’m still reeling from my orgasm. He puts his foot on the pedal and smiles. “What a movie,” he says. We both laugh, staring at the dark roads passing us by. The trees on the side of the road have light snow attached to them. I have his cum attached to my panties. The world works in mysterious, erotic ways. I can’t get around it. I’m a teacher and this is how my mind thinks. If only Principal Kneeves knew who I really was. Or Judy, for that matter.

When we pull into my driveway, he stops and we sit in silence. The radio is off and I’m pretty sure that just about everyone in the city is at home, asleep. Here we are, wide awake and ready for more debauchery. Our eyes meet, but there’s no words to say.

“So, you going to show me those broken lights, or what?” he asks me. I burst out laughing, opening the car door.

Oh, boy.

Addison

There’s no taming a man like me.

…But damn, that woman makes my cock turn up like no one else. Last night, I drove home in silence, just reliving the whole experience. There are a lot of women out there who have given me the time of my life. However, the next day, something changes. Normally, I get this realization that I need to get back to my life. With her, there’s none of that. I keep on thinking about her because she’s got the whole package and more.

The next morning, I wake up and make a hot cup of coffee. I glance down at myself and laugh, when I notice I’m completely butt ass naked, and all of my windows are open. “Fuck it,” I smile and on walk out on my porch. It’s a beautiful day in Canton, I’m thinkin’, and the cool breeze always makes me feel like I’m on top of the world.

I walk forward and my toes hit something hard and immovable. I glance down. “What the fuck?” I whisper. “Halloway?”

Here I am, naked and holding a cup of coffee, and Halloway is passed out drunk on my porch. “Morning, brother,” he smiles. “Nice pecker.”

“God damn it,” I sigh, walking my ass back inside. I grab a pair of sweatpants and a shirt, and I walk back out with a big glass of water. “Drink,” I tell him.

“Fuck off,” he keeps on smiling.

“I ain’t fucking around,” I say. “Come on. Drink. You look like shit.”

“Did you get lucky last night?” he asks, grabbing the water and downing it. It spills all across his face, pouring down his shirt.

“I don’t kiss and tell.” I laugh and sit down in my favorite wooden rocking chair. I look out into the small amount of snow that’s gathered from the morning cold.

“Like Hell, you don’t,” he says. He struggles to pick himself up from the ground. It’s as if his whole body is made out of a ton of bricks. “Ah, I’m getting old. Damn everything to Hell.”

“You’re 31,” I laugh. “You’re not old yet.”

“Sure feels like it,” he says. “There’s no trajectory for me anymore. At least, that’s how it feels. A few years ago, I was fucking king of the world. Now look at me. I’m passing out on porches and getting drunk every night.”

“Life is whatever you make of it.” I shrug. “Can’t keep making excuses forever.”

“Come on, man. Have my back for once.” He wipes some leaves from his hair and sits down next to me. “Can’t you see that I’m having a moment here?”

“Oh, I see it,” I laugh. “I just think it’s a little unnecessary.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you got laid last night. Of course you feel all chipper and happy, and shit,” he says. “You got your rocks off. Yippee for you.”

“Whatever.” I smile, thinking about Helena and that pussy of hers. Just the thought of her makes my head spin. I’d live on my knees for that woman if she’d let me.

We sit there for a moment, not saying a word. Birds are chirping above us and it’s peaceful outside. A few cars drive by, but they’re few and far between. Finally, Halloway speaks his mind.

“Don’t you miss our time over there?” he asks, shuffling around in his seat.

“Shit,” I sigh. “Don’t even bring it up.”

“I’m serious, man,” he says. “You don’t miss it at all?”

“Nope,” I say, still staring off into the distance.

“Look, man. I know it was tough over there. I know it wasn’t a box of fucking chocolates, but we were all in it, you know? We were a group. We were brothers. It feels so weird to be back,” he says.

“That was a while ago,” I sigh. “I’ve learned to forget about it. I’ve put it out of my mind. You should too.”

“I can’t.” He shakes his head and strokes his beard. “I try all the time, but every night I think about those nights over there. I remember staring off into the desert darkness and the lights shooting over our heads. You remember?”

I nod. “Yeah, I remember,” I say, solemnly. “It was like a dream. None of it seemed real.”

“Exactly, man. It was surreal, the explosions in the distance. You remember them. Whole villages went up in flames,” he says. I close my eyes and see it all too clearly. Hell. That’s the only word that can describe what I witnessed. Hell.

“It was wrong,” I say. “Those people shouldn’t have died. The coordinates… fuck, those soldiers in those planes never could get it right. What’s the point of fighting if you’re unable to hit the target every single time?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “They killed us too, remember? We killed our own men.” Tears fill his eyes. Before the “conflict,” I would have called him a fucking pussy. After the war, I realized real men know how to cry. They know how to let it all out. Still, it’s not something I want to relive. I already have trouble sleeping at night.

“I remember,” I say, angrily.

“It’s the cost of war,” he says. “I guess we should have realized, huh? We should have read more about history or something. This shit repeats itself, over and over again.”

Like a broken record. Like my memories, stuck in time, but getting more and more horrible with each passing moment.

I can’t say anything anymore. I can’t tell him to shut up. I can’t tell him to elaborate any further. This is something he needs to talk about and I’m the only one he can talk to because I’m the only other person in this town who experienced the same fucking thing.

“You should see someone,” I tell him.

“What, like a therapist?” he asks me. After a few long seconds, he starts laughing. “Fuck that. What will they tell me? ‘You have PTSD. Take this pill and you’ll feel better.’ You know as well as I do, that shit doesn’t work.”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “I don’t know. There aren’t any answers.”

“I don’t want any answers,” he says, nodding. “I just want to keep telling the story.”

“Why would anyone want to retell that story?” I ask him, hearing the screams of burning bodies echo in the distance. All of those innocent people that my government ordered to be slaughtered.

“Because man. It happened. People need to know the truth,” he says. “They can’t keep repeating the same fucking mistakes, over and over again.”

“But they will,” I say. “They will.”

I think of Helena and my whole body begins to feel incredibly weighted. When she finds out who I really am… when she realizes I’m not as heroic as she thought… when she understands how fucking damaged we all are now, she’ll throw me away like a dirty rag. She won’t know what to say. Nobody does. “Thank you for your service,” is about all we can get. Hero is what they call us, and some really are heroes. But, at the end of the day, they call us these things because they don’t know what else to say. The subject is just way too dark for the normal, everyday person to believe.

Halloway stands up and walks off my porch. “Anyway, sorry for bringin’ a bunch of darkness onto your porch,” he laughs. “We’re still alive, after all. That’s some cause to celebrate.”

“Sure is,” I mutter, nodding to myself.

He disappears into the distance and I’m left in pieces, on my porch. It was such a beautiful day, full of promise. Now, I’m not so sure. I walk back inside and fall to my mattress, falling asleep.

Helena, you seem like a light in all this darkness. I just hope you don’t think I’m a fizzled-out book of matches.

Helena

Five minutes left in class. Just five more minutes. It’s funny, sometimes I feel like I’m waiting for the sound of that bell as much as these kids are. “Alright, can anyone give me an example of an Iambic Pentameter?” I ask the class.

No one raises their hand, of course. “Come on, guys. There’s no such thing as a dumb answer.”

“Don’t you mean, there’s no such thing as a dumb question?” Linda, one of the over achievers in the class, says, smiling brightly. I hate even thinking this, but she annoys the hell out of me, with her goody-two-shoes attitude and obsession with being right. “There are most certainly dumb answers.”

“No,” I correct her. “There are no dumb answers or questions. We come to school to learn, not to judge, Linda,” I sigh.

“But how can we know the truth if there aren’t right answers?” she asks.

“This is English and the truth is relative,” I say, closing my eyes. I’m so tired from last night that I’m doing these kids an injustice today. Still, I don’t regret going out. I don’t regret feeling his hands all over my body, and I sure as hell don’t regret his mouth between my legs.

The bell rings and Linda shakes her head. The kids file out of my class and I swear, I hear her say, “Lying bitch.” It’s all too much sometimes, but this is the last period of the day, which means peace and quiet. Thank the lord!

Judy pops her head inside the classroom as I’m getting my things ready. “What’s up, girl?” she asks. “Having a good first week?”

“Well…” I grab my things and walk outside and into the hall. “Linda Pagwan just called me a lying bitch and I told the class that there are no right answers and the truth is relative.”

She laughs and throws her arm around my shoulder. “It happens to the best of us,” she says. “Don’t worry about it. Linda is a total cunt.”

“Judy!” I exclaim, pushing the hall doors open. Sunlight basks over my face. “She’s a student. She’s young and doesn’t know any better.”

“I’m just tellin’ it like it is,” she says.

“Uh huh,” I reply.

“Think about what kind of a person that girl is going to grow up to be. She’ll excel, no doubt. In fact, she’ll get everything her little heart desires.”

“So what?” I laugh.

“Hey! I’m just defending you, remember? You’re probably right. She probably won’t become the CEO of Exxon and dump a bunch of oil into all the rivers and oceans, killing us all and exterminating life on this planet.”

“Wow, you’ve really thought this through,” I laugh. She’s unbelievable, but she brings a little more joy into my life.

“Nah, I’m just joking around,” she laughs. “But seriously, us teachers do not get paid enough to deal with being called a bitch on a daily basis.”

“Daily basis?” I ask her, gulping down.

“Oh yeah. Welcome to Puberty 101.” She rolls her eyes. “Anyway, what’s up? How was your little movie date last night? Get any popcorn?”

I laugh and breathe in the clean air. “Well, we didn’t actually end up seeing any movie,” I say the words carefully, so she doesn’t freak out.

“Oh my God, girl! You’re bad,” she yells.

“Stop.” I glance around. Principal Kneeves turns to us in the parking lot and waves.

“Hello, ladies!” he says, before getting into his car.

“Did you suck his cock?” she asks. “You totally sucked his cock, didn’t you? Was it big? Was it thick? Did he moan real loud when he came in your mouth?”

“Gross!” I say, lightly pushing her away. “No, yes, yes, and no.”

“Tell me everything. Now,” she demands.

“It’s personal,” I laugh, opening my car door.

“I will stand in front of your car and vow to get run over if you don’t tell me everything,” she says.

“You’d sacrifice your life for my intimate details?” I ask.

“I haven’t had good sex in over a year,” she says, eyes wide. “You have no idea what I’m willing to do. I need to live through you!”

“You’re crazy,” I laugh. “But, fine. I’ll tell you.”

“Thank you,” she smiles.

“We went to a bar and got some drinks. Halloway stumbled in extremely drunk and got kicked out. I left the bar and—”

“Halloway is a wreck,” she adds. I shrug. “Okay, sorry for the interjection. You may continue.”

“Yeah, well, we decided to just go back to my place. You know, so he could fix my broken lights,” I say.

“Naturally,” she smiles.

“But we ended up not really getting too far,” I laugh. “And he went down on me in the bar parking lot.”

“Helena…” She blinks her eyes crazily. “Seriously?!”

“Yes.” I blush. “I know. It’s crazy. I’m a disgusting pervert.”

“No, you’re my hero! In fact, I think you’re every woman’s hero right now,” she exclaims. “You got a military guy to go down on you before you even put your lips around his cock?”

“Navy,” I correct her. “He was a SEAL.”

“What-the-fuck-ever,” she says. “How did you pull that off? Did you just pull up your dress and say, ‘okay, make me cum now’? What is your secret?!”

“I don’t know,” I gulp. At this point, I’m bright red. I’ve never been too good at describing personal details like this. It’s embarrassing. “He just kind of did it. I mean, he got off too.”

“So you gave him head?” she presses me for more answers.

“No,” I laugh.

“No?!” She’s baffled. “You’re making this all up. You have to be.”

“He got me off and sort of just…” I stop myself.

“Oh, so he masturbated onto your pussy,” she says, without flinching. I glance around to see if any of the staff or students are still around. No one is in the parking lot anymore.

“Yes,” I say, totally embarrassed now. “He masturbated onto my pussy.”

“Don’t say it like it’s a bad word,” she says. “Wear it loud and proud! You got head, Helena! I want to celebrate on your behalf.”

“You’re crazy!” I say.

“You keep saying that. Who knows? Maybe it’s true,” she laughs. “So, what’s next? What’s your plan?”

“I haven’t really given it any thought,” I admit. “I thought maybe we’d go on another date I guess.”

“You guess?” she asks. “Well, do you like the guy still or what?”

“Yeah, he’s nice.” I shrug. “I don’t know if I like like him. “It’s way too early to tell, right?”

“Well, I think you need to get your priorities together,” she says. “You need to marry the bastard.”

“Who’s a bastard?” a voice says behind us. We both turn around so fast, I give myself a minor case of whiplash.

“Addison!” I exclaim, turning practically purple now. Okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but I swear, I’m blood red from all of this embarrassment.

“Hey sweetie-pie.” He winks.

“Sweetie-pie,” Judy mouths.

“Hello, Judy,” he says, leaning against the car. “What’re you two ladies talking about? I want details.”

“Nothing,” I quickly say.

“Nothing?” he laughs.

“We were talking about some girl who called her a bitch in class,” Judy says. “I said she was a cunt.”

“Watch that mouth!” Addison says. “And slow down, someone called you a bitch?”

I swear, his muscles bulge out for a second, as if he is ready to take a swing at whoever did it. I shrug the whole thing off. “It was just some student. This girl. It was my fault,” I say.

“What, did you hit her or something?” he asks. “How can that be your fault?”

“I’d rather not talk about it,” I say, feeling totally out of my element.

He exhales heavily and shrugs. “Suit yourself,” he says.

“What’re you doing?” I ask him.

“Another day, another dollar,” he says. “The school has a bunch of faulty compressors. I gotta try and fix them, I guess.”

“Milk them for double its worth,” Judy smiles defiantly.

“I don’t think you two should hang around anymore,” he laughs. “You two together are trouble.”

“I know,” she smiles back. “Hey, Addison.”

“What?” he asks, moving closer to me. I smell his cologne and fall into a slight trance. I just want to wrap my hands around his arms.

“When are you going to take my girl here on a date?” she asks him.

“Judy!” I hiss, covering my face. I feel like I’m in junior high all over again.

She just shrugs. “It’s a poignant question,” she says.

He turns to me. “How about tomorrow?” God, why does he have to be so damn charming?

“I might be busy,” I say, thinking about all of the papers I have to grade.

“Tomorrow is perfect,” Judy juts in.

“How about I give you my number,” he says. “If you can’t hang out tomorrow, that’s fine. No pressure.”

“She can,” Judy says. “Don’t worry.”

I swear, I’m about to hit her in the tit. “If you can,” he says, laughing a little. “We should do something during the day. There are some cool spots around here. I’ll show you around.”

“Sounds good,” I say. “I’ll text you.”

“Great. I gave you my number, right?” he asks.

“When?” I struggle to remember.

“When you crashed into me, remember?” he laughs. “I still have the bruises.”

“Oh yeah,” I laugh awkwardly and reach into my purse, grabbing his card. “Got it.”

“Well, alright then.” He eyes me up and down and bites his lip. “See you, ladies.” He starts to whistle a tune as he walks toward the school entranceway.

“Holy shit,” Judy whispers. “He’s perfect. Perfect! I’m so excited for you.”

I play it cool, but deep down I’m freaking out. This handy man is somehow god’s gift to the world and he wants me, the English teacher. Yes, he is an ex-Navy SEAL and a repairman. I know it sounds so wrong, but I’m still so hesitant. I was always taught to stay away from men like him, but he seems normal, quite frankly.

I try not to think about it. This isn’t a forever kind of thing. This is just fun during the school year. But this town is small and I know tomorrow is going to yield some interesting thoughts. I just hope I can handle myself when I look down and he’s on his knees, mouth ready for me.

Addison

I’m not willing to let this one go to waste. From now on, our dates will be akin to going to the candy shop. I want to get to know Helena, front to back. I want to explore every nook and cranny. I’m not keeping my hands to myself.

I get ready, throwing on my undershirt, staring at a nice suit jacket I have for special occasions. “Not yet,” I tell myself. This isn’t the time. I still barely even know the woman. If she continues to pass the test, I might go full suit. Who knows? Maybe this woman is the one.

I laugh out loud when I think those words. The one. As if that even exists. There are people who make you feel good at certain times, but that’s about it. Can you imagine spending thirty or more years with one person? Every day would just bleed into the next. The sex dries up when the kids come. The money dries up when the mortgages hit you in the balls. And when you’re old, the government does away with social security. Yep, fuck that normal lifestyle. That’s not exactly for me.

Yet, we’re always searching for the one person that gets us. Take Halloway for example. He keeps coming back to me because we spent some time in a murderous hell hole, a million miles away. That’s our connection. He didn’t even grow up here. He’s from Texas.

When I went overseas, I had a grasp on what it might be like. I knew we’d see some real dark shit. I knew it wouldn’t be like a video game, unlike most of the other soldiers. When you’re deployed, you realize you’re stuck with a bunch of loons. Some were good, some were bad, but none of us were normal.

The whole time, I kept wondering, would I ever be normal? Would I ever own a nice house? How about a nice car? Shit, would I ever own one of those fancy smart phone devices everyone seems to be able to afford nowadays? I always wondered that kind of stuff, even when the bombs started to fall all around us.

The answer is still up in the air. I say this because you never know what kind of bomb life will hit you with. Sure, you don’t plan to have a kid or fall in love, or meet someone new. But in the end, these things happen to people out of the blue. We try and justify it and say things like, “I planned this out. I always knew it would happen this way.” But that’s only because we like to see our lives as perfect stories, like we’re some characters in a movie.

We’re not characters in any movie or book, or what have you. We’re just some normal motherfuckers who have seen some shit. So no, I don’t wear the suit. Not today. I grab a freshly dried undershirt. Jeans. My work boots. These things bring me a lot of comfort, and if Helena doesn’t like me for who I am, then fuck it all. I don’t need her.

I walk out into the sun and take a deep breath. Clearly, I’m freaking out a little. I haven’t done this “date” shit in so long. Helena is the first person in a long time to inspire me to do so. I grab my phone and pace around my house. I get up the nerve to text the woman and I say, “You ready?” You ready? Is that really what I want to say? Anyway, it’s too late. It’s been sent and she’s already typing back.

“Sure. Cool if I go naked?” she asks.

I have to give myself time to do a doubletake. Is this woman serious? Then she types out, “Just kidding. Pick me up in 15.”

“Sure thing, honey,” I send, not knowing if I am coming on too strong or not.

In all honesty, I hate this texting shit. Call me old-fashioned, but I just want to communicate on a landline or in person. That’s it. Instead, I get back and everyone is so immersed in their technology that it almost seems like in a few years, we’ll all have them installed in our bodies.

She sends back a smiley face. A fucking smiley face. Of course, that sends me into a panic. Fuck! Was the “honey” bit too much? Shit.

I take a deep breath. “You’re a Navy SEAL. You’re strong. What the fuck is wrong with you? Don’t overthink it,” I tell myself, still pacing around my house. I check my phone every two minutes or so, until fifteen minutes pass and I can leave my place to pick her up.

I get into the car and drive as fast as I can, barreling down the avenues. That’s the one cool thing about living in a small town. You can practically get away with anything.

When I get to her house, she’s outside and she’s wearing this beautiful dress with abstract shapes attached to it. She looks sexy, unique, and god damn gorgeous. I roll down my window and whistle. “Holy shit, you look good!”

She blushes and gets into the car. “You look good too,” she says, playing nice.

“Let’s be honest. I look about the same as I always do,” I say, feeling a bit embarrassed I didn’t wear my nice suit. Next time, I tell myself.

“Where we off to, honey,” she mimics me and I turn a dark shade of red.

“I’m going to be honest with you,” I tell her. “There’s not much to do in this town. But I’ve got a few plans up my sleeve.”

“Surprise me,” she says, leaning back in her seat. She smiles as I push my foot against the pedal and skid out of there.

* * *

We drive about twenty-five minutes out of Canton and I’m hoping I’ve picked a good spot for us. Today is oddly foggy and has a slight eerie vibe to it. I pull into a parking lot and we get out.

“Okay, where are we?” she laughs.

“You’ll see,” I tell her, jumping out of the car to open the door for her.

She steps out and we walk toward a building. “Hummingbird Haven?” she asks me, mouth dropping slowly. “How did you know hummingbirds are my favorite?”

I smile and feel my heart start to pound with excitement. I had no fucking idea she loved hummingbirds. I simply hoped she did. “I’m very perceptive,” I say, taking her arm in mine.

We walk inside and are greeted by the owners, who agree to take us on a tour. I shell out some money and we’re soon around over a hundred feeders. It’s a foggy, cold day, but still the hummingbirds are in full effect.

“It’s amazing,” she says, looking around us. “Oh my God, they’re so cute!”

One buzzes by my ear and I fall to the ground outside, “Ah!” I scream, swatting in front of me.

“Ha!” she laughs and then covers her mouth. I laugh with her, picking myself up and dusting my jeans off.

“Terrifying little things,” I laugh.

“Aw, come on. Look at this one here,” she says, pointing. One lands on a feeder and glances at me.

“He is pretty cute,” I admit.

“Who says it’s a he?” She glares and then smiles.

“Whatever it is, I like it. The green reminds me of your eyes,” I say. She blushes and gives me a kiss on the cheek, running away to look at more of them.

They’re everywhere. They fly up and down and sometimes you can even get a glimpse of them. They’re so different from other birds. They’re so unique that I have to wonder if they’re even anything like a normal bird. When they hover in the air, they behave so abnormally. Their wings almost look like they’re spinning.

“Oh, I love them!” She comes running over to me, throwing her arms around me. When she does this, I feel… warm. I like feeling like this. I want to feel like this forever.

When we get our fix of the birds, we walk back out front. We both get back in the car and she sighs. “That was really great, Addison,” she says.

“I told you, there aren’t very many things to do in this town. Still, there’s some special spots. You just gotta keep your eyes out for them,” I say.

She looks at me, eyes glazed with happiness. I look back at her and I have to touch her. I place my hands around her waist, feeling her skin and her bones, and her pulse through her body. My cock moves and there’s a warm feeling between my legs. I want to say, “I want you,” but I know it would be inappropriate right now. Instead, we both lean forward and our lips crush against each other’s. We kiss and I feel her tongue slide against mine. She tastes so fucking sweet, like nectar. It’s addicting. Really, I have to admit that I’m hooked.

“Now what?” she asks, biting her lip.

“I didn’t plan that far ahead,” I admit, laughing slightly.

“How about we do something devious,” she says.

“Like what?” I ask her, eyes dropping to the bottom of her dress. The ends wrap around her thighs, curling right below her panties. I can glimpse some of the pink fabric and, of course, I shoot up, hard as a rock.

“I’ve got the keys to the school.” She smiles. “Want to see my classroom?”

“Woman. You have no idea,” I tell her.

I put the keys in the ignition and I drive as fast as I can to that classroom.

Helena

I feel so fucking wrong right now. Like, bad. Real bad. When we pull into the school parking lot, the sun has started to set. There’s not a car in sight. We park in the corner of the lot and step out, staring at the school doors.

“You sure we can go in during afterhours?” he asks me.

“I work here. I can go into my office at any time.”

“Right,” he says. “I forgot. We’re just getting some papers for you to grade later.”

“That is correct,” I say with a smile. “Papers.”

I walk ahead of him and I know he’s staring at my tight ass. In this dress, it looks perfect. It juts out just enough to drive a man crazy, which is why I picked it out in the first place. Not to mention, it hugs the tops of my thighs. One has to wonder what’s underneath. Shit, even women eye me on the street when I wear this.

I slide the key into the lock, turn it slowly, and feel the hard click of it opening up. I think about how hard his cock was the other night and suddenly feel very wet between my legs. I think about him opening me up and my throat gets tight. My heart starts to pound and my face feels warm as I open the school doors.

We both walk inside, giggling, and I close the doors behind me, making sure no one has seen us come in from the outside. “Come on,” I tell him, running through the halls. “My room is just down here!”

He jogs to keep up with me, shaking his head. “If your students only knew how bad you were,” he calls out.

“If they knew,” I say, out of breath, “they’d try to get away with everything.”

I finally get to my door and I open it quickly. The sunlight has finally moved past the fog and is shining in through the classroom windows. I sit on the center of my desk and wait for him to enter. When he does, my legs are spread. In his view is my dress and it’s open, exposing my panties with a wet center.

“Hello, Mr. Handy Man,” I mutter.

His smile drops and he walks forward, slowly. He doesn’t say a word. He just places his body between mine and leans forward, kissing me deeply. His tongue slides back and he glances down.

“You’re wet,” he says, still not smiling.

I can’t say a word. I try to breathe, but I’m shaking. “Don’t be nervous,” he says. “I’m only here to fix your leaky pipe.”

I smile, but I know what’s next. I’ve been waiting for it for days now, even though I know how big his cock is. I muster the courage to reach forward and grab his belt buckle. I undo his leather belt and take off his jeans, while he rips off his undershirt. He stands in front of me, completely naked.

He’s hard. He’s, well, solid and extremely thick.

“Jesus,” I mutter, choking on my saliva.

He places his fingers under my chin and moves my head up. “It’s going to be okay, sweetie,” he says, kissing me one more time. He moves downward and kisses around my neck, shooting endorphins through me. I start to relax and breathe better, and he runs his hand over my wetness.

I breathe out as he places his cock against my clit, sliding it over me. He doesn’t push it in me. Not yet, at least. He just feels me, pushing my wetness all over his shaft. I can feel his bone grow bigger and bigger, until finally, I say the words: “Fuck me.”

He nods and grabs his member, pushing it against my lips. At first, it seems as if it’s not going to go in. However, with a slight forceful thrust, it slides right in, pushing against my g-spot almost immediately. It’s too much to handle, in the best way possible.

He slides back out before pushing in deeper again, and I just lose it. My toes curl back and I begin to shake. “You can cum for me, baby,” he says. “It’s okay.”

But I’m already there. I’m cumming so fucking fast, and so fucking hard that it’s almost unsettling. I can’t wrap my head around what’s going on. I’ve never cum this fast before. It’s almost as if his cock was designed for fucking me. “Oh,” I moan, unable to even speak. My throat closes and then opens and I fall back.

He, of course, drops to his knees to taste me, stroking his cock now. He sucks on my pussy and groans in satisfaction, rising back up to take control of my body. “You like this cock, don’t you, baby,” he asks me.

I nod. “Maybe a bit too much,” I say.

“Well, I love this beautiful pussy,” he says. I can’t help but blush when he talks about me like this. “And I love those lips. I love seeing how they wrap around my cock. I love how tight you are. I love feeling how deep I can go and how wet I make you.”

“You make me so wet,” I say. He starts to thrust harder, and much faster. “So fucking wet. This is crazy.”

He pushes the desk back against the whiteboard and papers go flying. I’m too much in heaven to give a shit about the kid’s iambic pentameters right now. Right now, I’m getting a lecture on sex education and it’s nothing like what they taught me when I was in junior high.

He picks me up, holding my thighs, and carefully walks over to the sidewall. He thrusts upward, pushing my back against the painted brick. “I’m going to cum inside you,” he says. All I can do is nod. I want him to. I know it’s reckless, but I want to be reckless. I want to be crazy. I want to risk everything right now.

Apparently, so does he.

We kiss while he fucks me, in and out, in and out, and his tongue slides directly across mine. I can feel his muscles tense up, his breath quickening. Finally, something stops inside him. He almost stops thrusting, but manages to push in deep one last time. His lips wrap around mine and we both moan as we feel it.

He cums and he cums a lot. We slowly fall to the floor, my legs still wrapped around him. I swear, he’s still cumming even when I’m straddling him on the floor.

When it’s over, he opens his eyes and looks at me like I’m the Madonna or something. “My God,” he says. “I can’t believe someone like you has come to a place like Canton.”

“You better believe it,” I say, throwing my arms around his perfectly chiseled chest. I hate to say it, but I really am starting to go gaga over this guy’s physique. He’s powerful. He’s capable. And he’s so fucking confident. Maybe his job isn’t the greatest, but this guy is a fucking war hero, for Christ’s sake. He’s a true man, the way men should be.

“So now what do you want to do?” I laugh.

“Come to my place,” he says, smiling. “We’ll watch a movie or something. We can order pizza.”

“I can’t,” I say. “I’ve got class in the morning,” I groan.

“No you don’t,” he says.

“Oh yeah? What makes you say that?” I ask with a smile.

He holds me close and spins me onto my back. “Because,” he says as he kisses me. “You’re calling out of work. You’re really sick and need a day to get better.”

“Ugh,” I sigh. “You’re a real bastard. You know that, right?”

“Yep,” he says with a grin. “Too bad for you, I guess.”

He’s right. Too bad for me. Now I’m fucking hooked.

Addison

I turn over, feeling the sun against my eyelids. The world is a beautiful place, I’ve decided. As long as Helena is nearby, it seems a hell of a lot nicer. I yawn and stretch my arm out, wrapping it around her body. I feel her waist and her nice butt. I kiss her cheek and she laughs slightly, still tired and groggy.

“Let me sleep,” she says.

“Let’s get some breakfast,” I reply, smiling.

And then she turns over and my heart fucking stops. No. I jump out of bed. “What the fuck?” In place of Helena is Halloway and his grin is huge.

“Come to bed, dear,” he says, suddenly turning old. His skin starts to sag and behind my whole house turns into that dreadful place we served overseas.

I wake up.

“Fuck!” I scream, sweat falling down my face. I look over where Helena should be, half scared to find Halloway sleeping there. Of course, he isn’t. It was just a bad dream. I have those constantly. You’d think by now I’d get used to it, but I still haven’t.

Helena has gotten out of bed, but I can still smell her perfume. I breathe it in and smile, placing my hands behind my back. My cock goes hard again when I peer through the sliver of open door. I see her, butt-ass naked. She’s cooking eggs and bacon and I hear coffee brewing too. Damn, this woman is completely perfect, isn’t she?

I get out of bed, letting it all hang out. I don’t care. This is normal for me and she’s in my house doing the same. This is like a dream come true, to be honest. It is, especially, in comparison to that Halloway nightmare. I push open the door and walk up behind her.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” she says, cocking her head back with a smile. “I’m making breakfast. Sorry I went through your fridge.”

“Go through it all,” I laugh. “Mi casa es su casa.”

“I hope you’re hungry,” she says.

“Starving actually,” I say.

“Even after last night?” She winks.

“I’m insatiable,” I laugh. “I could eat for days.”

I grab a cup of coffee from the pot and take a sip, testing the heat. It’s too hot but it tastes damn good. “I just had the worst dream of my entire life,” I laugh, shaking my head.

“What was it?” she asks, flipping a piece of bacon.

“I dreamt Halloway was in bed with me when I woke up. It was fucking terrifying,” I say, still wiping some sweat from my forehead with my undershirt.

She cracks up. “Maybe it’s wish fulfillment.” She shrugs, smiling at her joke.

“What?” I’m taken aback. “Like Freud and shit? Didn’t that guy want to fuck his mother or something?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. He did a lot of cocaine I think.”

“Sounds like a hell of a guy,” I sigh.

She serves the bacon and eggs and, out of the toaster, comes some burnt bread. “Oops. Kind of left that in for a little too long,” she says.

I shrug. I could care less. “I love it burnt,” I admit. It’s true. I’ll eat anything that’s given to me. It gives me the fuel to keep working out.

I glance at her when she turns around. No, maybe glance isn’t the right word. I stare at her, jaw dropping. Every time I see her it’s a new sensation. Her tits rest against her chest like big tear-drops. She sets the plates down but I walk over and wrap my hands around her waist. Keep in mind, I’m still hard as a fucking rock.

“What’re you up to?” She smiles as I kiss down the arch of her neck. I watch as goose pimples shoot up across her skin. Her hair follows the same pattern.

“Nothing,” I say. “Just enjoying you.”

I move lower and cup her breasts, kissing them each and lightly tonguing at her nipples. “God,” I sigh. “Perfection.”

“Stop that and eat your food,” she says, eyeing me. But I know better. She’s turned on and so am I.

“What if I don’t?” I ask her, sitting down. “What if I do this instead?”

I grab my cock and spit downward. I begin to stroke myself, keeping my eyes steady on her. I don’t even fucking blink.

“Then I’ll do this,” she says, eyeing me in that same deviant way. She spreads her legs and puts her hand in between, also using her spit as lube. She begins to rub her clit. Every so often, she inserts two or three fingers. I just keep watching.

“You like getting yourself off in front of me,” I say. “Don’t you?”

She nods delicately. She’s like porcelain, like a rare artifact. And I need her. I adore her, dammit. “You’re going to cum quick, aren’t you?” I ask. I’m hoping she will because I’m already at the point of no return.

When she nods, I whisper, “So am I.”

Her eyes half-close and her soft stomach twitches. When I visibly see that she’s about to cum, I walk over and fall to my knees. I stuff my face in between her legs and she starts moaning as loud as I’ve ever heard someone moan before. “Fuck!” she screams, tilting her head back.

Her pussy twitches and by the way she moves, an electric-type current has begun to shoot throughout her body. I cum with her, moaning deeply and keeping my tongue against her clit. I suck away until we’re both finished.

“Holy shit,” she sighs, face pink and glistening.

“This is a good breakfast,” I say, resuming my eating. “Really good. How did you get the eggs to be this soft, without running?”

She smiles and shakes her head. “Who are you, dammit?”

“I’m the handyman,” I smile.

Helena

Well, I had an insane time with Addison the other day, but there’s something I can’t get off my mind. He didn’t fix my damn lights!

Okay, I’m lying to myself a little. He fixed more than the lights and I’m incredibly content in class two days later. Even the smartass Linda can’t get on my nerves today. She stands up in front of the class, wearing her stupid fake school uniform that she always wears, and I swear half the class rolls their eyes. Maybe that’s my imagination, but I’m fairly certain she’s not too popular around here.

“Last class when you said that truth is relative,” she begins. “I mean, did you really mean that? Because I asked my dad and he said that—”

“What did he say?” I interrupt her.

“He said that that can’t be true. He said that the world just doesn’t work like that. That’s how we built institutions. That’s how we run the world. With facts,” she says.

“We run the world with our own viewpoints,” I sigh. “But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. This isn’t History class. Let Mr. Drake teach you all about that.”

“Today we’re talking about poetry. William Shakespeare, to be exact. I’m sure all of you have heard of him,” I say.

Time passes like this: I complete the syllabus in a hurried fashion. Shakespeare? He was a beautiful poet who had some choice words on love. Still, one has to wonder whether he got down on his knees for his mistresses after they cooked him breakfast. I bet he did.

I’m thinking about Addison, though. I can’t stop. Even Judy, at lunch, is staring at me funny. “Okay, so things are going well, I presume?” When I don’t answer, she waves her hands in front of my eyes. “Earth to Helena. Mission Control to Helena. Is anybody in there?”

“What?” I ask, spacing out. “Oh, shit. Sorry. I’m tired today.”

“I can see that,” she sighs. “What happened the other day? You weren’t really sick, were you?”

I look up and smile, and then glance back down at my food. I can’t even think about eating right now. “Maybe I was. Maybe I wasn’t. You’ll never know,” I grin.

“You know you only get like eight sick days a year, right? You gotta be smart with those, girl. You can’t just use one here and one there. You have to be strategic. Use the full eight toward the end of the year. Go to Rocky Point or Thailand, or somewhere exotic,” she says.

“Exotic sounds nice.” I smile.

“So, where’d he take you on that date?” she asks, changing the subject.

I smile. “It was actually really fun, to be honest,” I say, thinking back on it. “He took me to the Hummingbird Haven. Have you ever been?”

“Oh, I’ve heard of that! Sounds wonderful,” she says. “So, this is like serious, isn’t it?”

“No,” I frown. “Not serious. Just for fun.”

“Well, then why are you going to animal sanctuaries and shit? That’s like what married couples do,” she says. Then she adds, another jab, “What’s next? A dinner date at IKEA?”

I have to grimace at the thought of that. “Gross,” I mumble. “No. I thought it was cute, actually. He’s trying really hard.”

“So you do really like him,” she says. “Interesting.”

“I don’t know,” I admit. “He is fun to be around. I’ll give him that.”

“And his cock?” she smiles, unabashedly.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” I shrug. She tilts her head at me, and stares. “Okay, it’s life changing. But it’s not just his cock. Anyway, what’ve you been up to? Any progress with any guys?”

“Progress? Me?” she laughs. “There is no progress with me. I meet some guys I like and it usually ends pretty quickly. I’m not exactly the most faithful.”

“A revelation,” I mutter. “Wow, I didn’t know that about you.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not a big deal. I just prefer not to be tied down.” She shrugs.

“You sound like a dude,” I tell her. “You don’t want kids someday?”

“I mean, yeah. Maybe. Well, I don’t know. Does anyone?” she asks.

“I think so.” I shrug back. “I do.”

“The whole thing seems so damn complicated. I’m having a hard enough time keeping my kids in class in check. I’m not sure if I could handle a lifelong partner messing things up for me.”

“I see,” I say, looking awkwardly at the ground, while a bunch of kids run around outside and in the cafeteria.

“Oh!” she suddenly exclaims. “I saw Halloway last night. So there’s something.”

“Halloway? I thought you were over him!” I say.

“What can I say? I’m a woman who likes to give second chances. And third. And fourth. You get the picture,” she admits.

The bell for class rings, but we take our time walking. There’s a 20-minute leeway period usually for this sort of thing.

“So what happened?” I ask her.

“Nothing really,” she slyly smiles. I push her a little and she takes a deep breath before continuing. “God, he really annoys me, you know? He’s like totally out of his mind. Addison probably is, deep down. You gotta really be careful with these military types.”

“Navy,” I correct her again.

“Whatever,” she sighs. “I don’t know, he just like came over out of the blue. He was totally shit-faced and out of his mind, talking about existential things,” she laughs, but there’s a slight seriousness attached to her grin.

“Like what?” I ask her, practically pleading. Addison is really close to Halloway and he never mentioned any of this to me. Maybe he just expected me to know that Halloway is sort of bonkers, or maybe there’s something he doesn’t want me to know. Either way, I’m guiltily curious.

“Like, what it’s like to see the sky explode. That sort of thing,” she says. “And so I tried to calm him down. I got him some coffee and some water, and I rubbed his back. You know, I was trying to be a good woman to him because the last thing I need is a guy going crazy at my place. I just wanted to tame the beast a little.”

“I bet you did,” I laugh.

“Not in that way,” she adds. “But I’ll get to that.”

She continues. “So, he just started saying that he’s seen it happen before. And that it keeps happening. And that no one ever wants to try and stop it, but it keeps going on and on. Basically, I was just thinking he was having some sort of episode. You know, these military guys go through a lot of trauma. It makes sense that he would need to let it out after a while of holding it in.”

“Sure.” I don’t correct her saying “Military” this time. I think of Addison and he’s always so… levelheaded. He’s always present, at least. He hasn’t had any crazy outburst. Not yet, at least. Except, now that I remember it, he did have a nightmare last night. He woke up yelling. But that was just a dream. It wasn’t anything serious.

God, I hope it’s not anything serious…

“Anyway, he woke up after about an hour. He came to and everything was fine. He apologized and I went down on him,” she says, pursing her lips and creasing her eyes.

“Judy!” I exclaim, as we make our way through the hallway of the school.

“What? It’s true,” she says. “I wanted to make him feel good. He deserves it. He fucking served in the Army, Helena. He’s a hero.”

“Navy!” I yell for the last time.

“Whatever,” she says, walking into class. “See you later?”

“Maybe.” I shake my head. The people in this town. I swear they’re all lunatics!

Addison

“Man, I feel like I’m on top of the fucking world,” Halloway says to me at the local café. He sips on a cappuccino and it’s about the god damn funniest sight in the world.

“A few days ago, you were talkin’ some heavy shit,” I tell him. “Why the sudden change of mind?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Things just look brighter, you know?”

I look around. The day is overcast and cold. “No, I don’t know,” I say. “What’re you talking about?”

“I fucked that Judy woman. You know, the teacher,” he admits, smiling like a wild animal. “God, it was incredible too.”

“Great, man. I’m really proud of you,” I say, even though I couldn’t give two shits what hole he sticks his dick in. Seriously, the fact that he’s even bragging about it right now makes me angry.

“Come on.” He pats me on the shoulder and squeezes. “I thought you’d be stoked for me, man. It’s been a while.”

“You fuck all kinds of women.” I shrug. “Who cares?”

“I buy all kinds of women. Sure,” he says. “But this was different.”

Gross. “Yeah, usually when you don’t have to pay for sex, things work out differently. For instance, you don’t have to keep a timer going.”

“Ha-ha, very funny,” he says. “I don’t know. She just gets me. Sometimes I think… ah, never mind.”

“Tell me,” I demand. “You can’t just start a sentence and stop on like that. You gotta tell me.”

“You’ll think I’m crazy,” he sighs. “But I haven’t drank in two days. That’s huge for me.”

“That actually is huge. But why?” I ask him.

“Because man—” he takes a deep breath “—I think I’m in love.”

My heart drops and I feel like I’m going to fucking vomit. “Love?” I ask him. Oh God. What an idiot. What a huge fucking moron. “Love?” I repeat. It’s like the idea has broken me.

“Yeah, love. What’s so fucking weird about that?” he asks, puffing out his chest. He takes another sip of his cappuccino and a foam mustache forms around his mouth.

“You’re not in love,” I tell him. “Not yet, at least.”

“Addison, my parents got married in like two weeks. How the hell do you know I’m not in love?” he asks.

“Your parents got divorced in less than two years!” I laugh. “And if they hadn’t had you, they would’ve parted ways a hell of a lot sooner.”

“Very true,” he smiles. “But so what? You have to live a little, right?”

“Sure,” I agree. “You’ve got to live. A little. Just don’t go around proposing anytime soon.”

“I ain’t gonna do that,” he says.

“You know, her best friend and I have been getting along pretty damn great,” I tell him.

“Cool,” he says, glancing at some chick’s ass who just walked inside.

“That’s it?” I ask him. “That’s all you’re going to give me? I kind of expected more of a reaction.”

He shrugs. “I’m selfish. What do you expect? You used to be too. What happened?”

“I’m the same damn person I’ve always been,” I say, turning red with anger.

“Sure you are, buddy,” he laughs.

“How am I different?” I ask him, on the defense now. “How?”

“Don’t worry. We’re still cool. I don’t care what you do in your free time,” he says. “But if you really want to know…”

“Just tell me, dammit,” I say.

“Fine. You’re always hanging around Helena now. I mean, I guess you haven’t that much. But I can tell, you want to. You’d be hanging with her right now if you could. Don’t lie to me,” he says.

I groan. “I don’t know. It depends, really.”

“If she asked you to come to her house right now, would you leave?” he asks, totally smiling big.

“No,” I lie.

“Bullshit!” He bursts out laughing. “Man, you’re one funny guy now.”

“Now. Stop with that now shit! I’m not any different!” I say. “But maybe you’re right. I would go over. And that’s because I love pussy more than you.”

“Shit,” he says. “Amen to that.”

Helena

“I know what would be fun,” Judy says, while we sit in the park and eat our sandwiches. “We could all go on a double date! Wouldn’t that be fun?”

I groan loud enough for her to understand just how much I hate the traditional type of dates. “Really?” I ask her, practically pleading for her to let it go.

“What?” she asks, dumbfounded. “Why are you being so weird? It’s a good icebreaker for all of us.”

“I don’t need an icebreaker!” I laugh. “Addison and I are totally fine as of right now, and like I said earlier, this is getting way too serious, too fast.”

She falls back against the grass and screams as a joke. “Well, Halloway and I are not fine and I want a wingman, er, wingwoman.”

“Judy, why are you even continuing on with him?” I have to ask, even if it is rude. I don’t think she minds people pressing certain issues, however. “You don’t even like him that much.”

“Yes I do.” She closes her eyes and raises her chin up in the air. “Okay, fine. I don’t. But I want what you have. It’s not fair.”

Okay, now she’s just pouting. “What exactly do I have?” I ask her, genuinely curious.

“A nice warm mouth around your cunt,” she says, loud enough for everyone in the park to hear. I shield my face.

“Judy, you have to stop doing that,” I laugh. “We’re going to get kicked out everywhere we go. Besides, Addison is on his way. He’s picking me up.”

“What? Seriously? You never told me that,” she says, deflating her body.

“I’m sorry,” I admit. “I know I should have, but I really just forgot.”

“This was our day,” she says, turning bright red. She’s not angry, but I think she’s actually a little hurt.

I hug her and kiss her cheek. “Cheer up. I’ll order your favorite Chinese food tomorrow at lunch. My treat,” I tell her.

“Your treat?” She looks up at me.

“I promise. I’ll pay,” I laugh.

“Ugh,” she sighs. “Fine. I guess I get it, anyway.”

I hear a car door shut loudly and when I turn to see who it is, my heart flutters. It’s Addison and he looks really… shit, he looks amazing. He’s wearing a suit jacket with matching pants. He’s even wearing dress boots.

“Whoa, he really cleaned up for you today,” Judy says.

“Howdy, ladies!” he calls out to both of us.

“Howdy?” Judy mumbles.

“Shh,” I laugh.

Addison walks over to us and kneels down against the grass. “Talking about me again?” he asks, adding a wink to the end of his sentence. “Judy.” He nods toward her.

“What?” she asks, looking defensive. “What did I do?”

“Just sayin’ hey, is all,” he says awkwardly. “Oh, by the way. Halloway says hi too. Almost forgot.”

“Cool,” Judy nods. “Uh, me too, I guess.”

He nods at her and then turns to me, placing his palm around my arm lightly. I blush and goose bumps pop right up. “So you want to head out?” he asks.

I can’t help it. I glance down at his nice pants and my eyes travel toward the only destination I really care about right now: his cock. “Sounds good,” I smile.

“I hate both of you,” Judy snarls, jokingly. “Seriously though. We were having a picnic, Addison. This has been the only snowless day in a while. You’re rude, boy.”

“It’s too cold to have a picnic. You guys are crazy,” he laughs. I mean, it is true. Judy’s idea to put four blankets down underneath us worked okay, I guess. It doesn’t mean it’s not weird as hell.

“I miss the summer,” she says, shrugging and standing up. “Tell Halloway to call me. I’m bored and could use a drinking partner tonight.”

“Text him. I know he’s game for that,” Addison says. He places his hand in mine and I feel the core of my body warm up against the cold. He lifts me up and I pounce onto the ground. “My house?” he asks me.

“Sounds good.” I smile and turn back to Judy. “You, uh, okay?”

She bundles up the blankets. A few of them are wet. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she laughs. “To be honest, I was freezing anyway. See you tomorrow, girl.”

“Bye, Judy.” I wave, and Addison and I walk toward his car. I step inside and we take off toward his house.

As we drive, I stare out the window. My breath lightly fogs up the glass, as I watch the passing houses. I love the Midwest in the weirdest way. It’s not too far off from where I’m from, but just far enough out of reach. I guess this is my home now. Although, it doesn’t exactly feel that way.

Home was the city. It was going to my mom’s house after school. It was where my friends were. But all of that changed so fast. When mom got through breast cancer, we were all so happy and excited. She only had me so I stuck by her every aching moment.

And then things got better. The cancer went away. Sure, they did invasive surgeries. They cut into her body and soul, until they were sure it was all gone. We were all so happy. My friends cheered us on. They even threw a big party for her. It was gone. It was finally gone.

Of course, things don’t stay so great forever. At least not in my family. First, my dad dies when I was two. He got hit by a car and had internal bleeding. The doctors had no clue. Second, my mom gets breast cancer, but defeats it. Third, she develops lung cancer. She never even smoked a pack in her life. It didn’t make any sense to us. The doctors were even confused, though they knew how weak the chemo treatments made her before. Anyone can be susceptible to these things.

My home was destroyed by the tides of that wretched city. I blamed it on the air, the people, the lack of humanity. Skyscrapers stare down at us like we’re toy soldiers, or better yet, ants. People roam the sidewalks holding their cell phones in front of them, tireless and defiant. The plants attempt to peek their heads out of the cracks of the concrete, but they’re under threat every single day. Life is under threat in the big cities of the world. Yet, we continue on with them, thinking someday we’ll be able to make it better.

Maybe they will.

The car stops in his driveway and Addison just stares at me. The radio is off and the air silently rides around the steel of the car, slipping against the glass windows. “You alright?” he asks me after some time.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You zoned out for a while there,” he says, eyeing me carefully.

“I’m fine,” I tell him again.

“Alright.” He steps out of the car and walks toward my side with a swagger that makes me snap out of my melancholic nostalgia. He opens my door and politely says, “Right this way, madam.”

“Thank you, sir,” I say back. “I love the suit by the way.”

He gets all giddy and it’s actually incredibly cute. “First time wearing this thing,” he says. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it,” I say, walking with him up to his porch. “Here I am, wearing a regular old t-shirt and jeans. You should have told me you were going to dress fancy tonight.”

He turns around and places his hands around my waist. “You look gorgeous,” he says, eyes falling to my erect nipples. “You also look cold. We should go inside.”

“No.” I smile. “Touch them.” I motion downward toward my tits.

“Excuse me?” he laughs.

“Touch them,” I say again.

He slides his hands up slowly and cups my breasts in his hands. His fingers run up toward my nipples and I feel myself shiver, not from the cold, but from the sheer fact that it feels really good.

He’s not smiling anymore. He’s just staring at them, at me, at all parts of my body. He slides my shirt over my head and I can feel the cold air against me. For some reason, it turns me on more being outside like this. At any moment, someone could see us. Cars zoom by the road he lives on, some of them driving slower than usual. “Don’t pay attention to them,” I say.

“Hadn’t even thought about it,” he smiles and kisses each breast tenderly. He wraps his lips around one of my nipples and sucks on it lightly. “God damn,” he whispers, shaking his head, as if he just had a life-changing revelation.

“Turn around,” he suddenly demands. At first, I hesitate. I’m not even sure why. But when he grabs me by the top of my jeans and twirls me around, my hands instinctually fall against the wood railing of his porch and my back arches.

“Like this?” I smile. I feel his hand fall firmly around one cheek of my ass. It moves toward the center, between my legs, and I gulp down hard.

“Just like that,” he whispers.

I see him in the shadows take off his jacket and he throws it onto his old rocking chair. He takes off all his clothes and moves against me so that I can feel his hard cock against the center of my jeans. He leans in and whispers, “Miss me?”

“Uh huh,” I whisper back, choking on my spit. I feel his hands take control of my jeans and he slowly pulls them down to my ankles.

“I’ve missed this,” he says, sliding his hand across my panties. He also moves those downward and they fall around my ankles. “I’ve missed you. You’re practically all I think about.”

I feel his thick cock push against my lips and we both moan together, feeling the pressure of pure pleasure envelop us. Snow falls onto the ground below us, but right now, we’re protected by his porch roof and the warmth of our bodies.

I feel his chest against my back as he pushes himself in deep, resting there for a bit. My wetness falls down my thighs, across his balls, down to my panties. He pulls out and groans wildly, grabbing my hips hard. I push my ass back against him, so that he’s deep inside once again, and we move to an internal rhythm that is wholly our own.

“I want to make you cum,” he says, pulling out of me. He slaps his cock against my ass and steps back, watching me. I pull my panties and jeans away from my ankles and walk right past him, pushing his front door open. I light a fire in his fireplace as he watches me, stroking his huge cock. He just gets harder and harder in anticipation of me.

Finally, when it’s nice and cozy inside, I crawl toward him and open my mouth, stuffing his cock deep inside. Then, I turn back around, staying on my knees. “Fuck me like an animal,” I whisper.

He does just that. He mounts me, grabbing my hips with determination. He thrusts deep inside, and it’s hard to control myself. I feel the tingle of an orgasm coming, but I try to ignore it. I just want to feel it edge closer. I don’t want to fall fully into it. I close my eyes and he grabs my shoulder, pounding my pussy.

“You missed this pussy, didn’t you?” I ask him, between thrusts.

“You’ve no fucking idea,” he says. “I live for this pussy.”

He forces my shoulder back and I feel him fully in me. He slides out and runs his hand up and down my spine. Right when I shiver, he grabs my thick hair and pulls it back.

“Dominate me,” I find myself saying. It’s not normal of me to get this into it. I’ve never been this… kinky.

I trust him. I’ve never felt this comfortable with anyone before, mostly because sex has always been awkward with other men. Addison knows what he wants and he knows what he needs to give me to get it. That’s the difference. He’s a real man.

He pulls out, groaning wildly and breathing in deep. He flips me over and picks my body up against his. We’re both sitting. He’s on the ground and I’m on his lap. He looks into my eyes and kisses me with enough passion to crack my heart into a million pieces. I feel so warm with him and it’s not because of the fire in his fireplace. I just feel connected to him.

I reach down and grab his thick cock. I push it inside me and sit down, thighs around his waist. Then, he does all the work for me. I rub my clit while he lifts my ass, up and down. Deep inside, he slides against my g-spot and I’m fucking hooked. After one whole minute of this, I’m done for.

“Cumming,” I whisper, eyes twitching. I swear, I must look like a freak because this is the strongest orgasm I think I’ve ever felt coming on. I lose all control of my motor skills, falling forward like a rag doll. He holds me and presses in deeper, laying me flat on my back. “I’m fucking cumming,” I repeat, eyes closed.

He pushes in deeper and deeper, beginning to fuck me even harder than before. He kisses me and I’m so turned on that I could explode. He drags his lips across my neck, down to my nipples and I do just that. I explode. I quake in his grasp. I lose all touch with reality. This is the hottest man on the planet. I’m sure of that.

He pulls himself out and lays me on my side, grabbing my thick ass with his big hands. He smacks down across my cheek and watches as it bounces, pleased with me. He slides in sideways and I feel the edge of his glistening head catch the ends of my lips with each push and pull. Soon enough, his head grows and he groans loudly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he screams. He loses it inside me. I feel him shoot his thick load across my inner walls and he holds himself there for a moment, staring into my eyes. “You’re so beautiful,” is all he can manage to say. I blush as he pulls out and falls to the floor. He kisses my ass over and over again, licking at my pussy. He doesn’t give a fuck, just like the first night we hooked up.

He comes back up and we make out for like an hour and a half, completely naked and groping each other. “Just stay here forever,” he moans.

He has no idea. I might be falling for him.

Addison

“For real though,” I say, breathing quickly. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life.”

“Shut up,” she laughs and kisses my shoulder. “You’re lying.”

“What, do you not think so?” I ask her. “Have you ever had a cock as good as mine?”

“Don’t be so sure of yourself.” She smiles. But after a second, she reaffirms my thoughts. “Okay, no I haven’t. But It’s not just your cock.”

“Tell me then. What is it?” I ask her. “Stroke my ego. Please.”

She laughs and shakes her head. “You’re the worst,” she says. But I’m still staring, waiting for an answer. “It’s the way you eat my pussy. It’s the way you thrust your hips. It’s the way you eat me without caring about the mess. You’re sloppy. It’s unbelievably hot to me.”

I just smile and stare up at my ceiling. We’re in my bed now, holding each other and I feel 100 percent on my game. “Damn, I sound awesome,” I say, laughing.

“What do you like about me?” she asks. This is normally a question I fucking dread, but with Helena, it’s incredibly easy to answer.

“Oh, man. Where do I start?” I laugh. “Your freckles. They’re so cute. No, they’re fucking sexy. And those hazel eyes. I can’t get enough of those. Your thick, dark red lips kill me every time I see you. You’re just a natural beauty. It’s sort of unreal. I have to wonder if this is all a dream.”

“Wake up,” she says while she tickles me. “Wake up!” She jumps on top of me.

“It’s not a dream, is it?” I laugh, twirling with her until she’s on her back. I kiss her face and then kiss her bellybutton. She writhes below me.

“I hope not,” she says.

“Oh God,” I sigh. “What if you’re still in New York? What if it really is a dream.”

“Don’t,” she says, turning serious. “I never want to go back there again.”

“Really?” I ask her. “I was kinda hoping you could take me there some day. You know, a small road trip. You could show me around. I’ve never been.”

“You’ve never been to New York City?” she asks, dumbfounded.

“Yeah, is that so weird?” I ask her.

“I don’t know. I kind of expected everyone to have at least visited once in their life,” she says. “It’s cool the first couple of times.”

“Well, I’m not that cool,” I tell her. “I’m just a handyman.”

“Come on,” she laughs. “You’re an ex-Navy SEAL. That’s pretty cool.”

“I guess.” I smile. “I wish I could see it like that. I know other people do.”

“How bad was it, really?” she asks. For the first time with her, I don’t know what to say. I’m speechless.

“Well,” I sigh. “Do you really want to know?”

“Yeah, duh,” she says, nonchalantly. It’s not as normal as she thinks. It’s nothing like the movies. Sure, people know that in their hearts, but they still have no clue how fucked up war actually is.

“I don’t know,” I sigh, thinking about it. I’m not ready to tell her anything. I’m not ready for her to know just how fucked up I really am. “Maybe another time.”

“Okay,” she hesitates, but eventually lets it go. She jumps out of bed and walks into the kitchen. I hear her grab two beers from the fridge. The bottles clink together and for a second, I imagine what my life could be like with this woman. I don’t know. It’s kind of crazy, I guess. But she makes me feel fucking good. It just feels so right with her by my side.

She runs at me, holding both beers, and jumps into bed again, kissing my chest all over. All over the scars, kissing above my heart. I crack open both bottles with my teeth and she’s amazed. “How the hell did you just do that?” she asks.

“Old trick. People used to love it overseas,” I laugh. “It’s all about getting your teeth in the right grooves.”

That’s all I got. Parlor tricks. In the end, I’m just here to fix people’s shit and play a role. I’m trying to change all that. I’m trying to be something different. I don’t want to be the town hero who lost it all anymore. I want to be a normal guy that people feel good around.

We lay in bed together, kissing and talking. It feels so damn good that we forget the time. Eventually, hours pass and it’s nearly midnight. “You have class tomorrow?” I ask her.

“Shit,” she sighs. “I do. I guess I should be going.”

“Just stay another hour,” I smile.

She groans, putting her whole face against my abs, and kissing lightly. “I don’t know. I’ll fall asleep in class.”

“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?” I joke.

“No, but all my students seem to think so,” she says.

“Well, there you go,” I say. “If you fall asleep in class, you’ll be their hero for the day.”

“Hey, speaking of heroes,” she begins. “You should totally come in and speak to my class!”

Ah, shit. There she goes. She just ruined the night for me. “Speak in front of a class of kids? What for?” I laugh.

“Come on.” She frowns. “Are you seriously not down to do that? They’d love it.”

“I don’t know,” I sigh. “What the hell would I tell them?”

“I don’t know. Your stories. Your experiences. Shed some light on what it’s really like over there. Most people have no idea, right?” she asks.

“Right,” I say back.

“So you can enlighten them,” she smiles, looking so fucking cute that it’s hard to say no to her.

“They’re too young. They wouldn’t understand,” I argue.

“Make them understand,” she says, about to give up. “Look, you can’t just go around hiding from your own experiences forever. I mean, am I wrong?”

“I’m not hiding,” I mutter, starting to get really annoyed.

On my bedside table are my medals. I’m not sure why I keep them there. I guess there’s some amount of pride in me still. Mainly, all my brothers that died over there deserve some kind of memorial. They make statues and shit, sure. But they live on through us and the people that loved them.

Helena grabs the framed plaque of medals and holds it up. “Come on. This was a part of you at one point,” she says.

“Don’t touch that,” I say, grabbing it quickly out of her hand. It’s an instinctual reaction and right when I do it, I know I’ve fucked up. She backs away from me and looks pissed. No, she looks scared of me. Fuck. What have I done? It’s the kind of feeling you get right before you lock your keys in your car, even though you’re aware of yourself doing it at the time.

“Wow. Sorry,” she mutters, placing the plaque of medals back. “I’ll show myself out.”

“No,” I plead. “You don’t have to go.”

She spins around and her eyes are wide and filled with hurt. “I don’t have to go?” she laughs. “I want to go. You’re being… crazy.”

She turns toward my door and I jump out of bed, trying my best to follow her, to plead for her not to leave. “Look, I’m sorry,” I say.

“Forget it,” she mutters, opening the door. The cold air shoots inside and I’m speechless.

“Please,” I say.

“Fuck you, Addison,” she says, walking out to the busy road. She grabs her phone and calls someone. My guess is that it’s Judy.

“You didn’t drive here! At least let me drive you home,” I say.

“Yeah, can you pick me up?” she says, cupping the phone against her ear. “Yeah, I don’t know. Just come to Addison’s. Here’s the address. I’ll be out front. Thanks, you’re a lifesaver.”

I walk out to my porch, but that’s as far as I go. I don’t want to seem like even more of a psycho than I already do. She doesn’t even face me now. She can’t. To me, it was this small thing that blew out of proportion. But to her, it was me showing my true colors. The hero who came back to his small town is now the fucked up, crazy man who can’t let go of his horrid past.

I can’t say I don’t blame her. In fact, she’s fucking right. I’m a lowlife. I can’t let go. Halloway and I are just two peas in a pod now. Helena is drifting away from me. Soon, it’ll be like we never even met.

Helena

Bastard. Prick. Motherfucker. Right now, those are some of the harsher words I’ve been calling Addison in my head. War hero? No, that’s not one of them. He doesn’t want to be thought of as a hero. He wants to play the victim. He wants to beat me up over this shit.

“Today we’re talking about the American Revolution and those who fought and died for our freedoms. Yesterday you learned about Paul Revere. Today, however, I want to discuss Benedict Arnold. Does anyone know who that is?” I ask the class.

Jonathan Simmons raises his hand in the back of class and I point directly at him. “Yes, Jonathan?”

“Um, isn’t he a traitor?” he asks, slightly unsure if his answer is correct or not.

“Exactly,” I say with a smile. “Benedict Arnold was no hero. He was an American general for the Continental Army, but later left to fight for the British.”

“Why?” he asks.

“Because he’s a liar, he’s a cheat, and he didn’t want to face who he really is,” I say, not thinking.

“What?” he idly asks.

“Sorry, scratch that,” I sigh. “He was being investigated for corruption, first of all. Second of all, he wasn’t happy with how the war effort was going. He felt Congress should have accepted Britain’s proposal of the colonies’ self-governance. He eventually left and fought for the British, only to live out his life as a traitor. He may in fact be the most famous traitor in US history.”

The class is hushed and looking at me like I shouldn’t be here. There are bags under my eyes from staying up too late and I have to admit, the stress of this Addison crap is weighing on me. How can I be with someone who has so much crap that he’s hiding? If he would just let me in, things could work out. Things could be so great. Instead, he’s built a fortress around himself. He’ll never be able to let anyone in at this rate.

When the last class is dismissed, I walk out in the hallway and lean against the wall, breathing heavy. I don’t know what I’m doing here in this small town. I guess I came because I had to get away. Plus, I wanted to teach our young to have values and a good education. Now, however, the reality has begun to set in. These kids don’t really care about me, first off. And I don’t have any reason to stay here.

Judy sees me leaning against the wall with my eyes closed and I guess instinctually knows that I need a friend right about now. I hear her heels clicking against the floor and I open my eyes and give her a nod. “Hey, Judy,” I say.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” she immediately asks. “What’s going on with you? I heard you went completely off-topic in one of your classes today.”

“Oh, god,” I mumble. “You heard about that?”

“Yeah, Kneeves came up to me earlier and asked about you. He wanted to know if you were alright,” she says.

“I’m fine,” I mutter back, closing my eyes again.

“Look, we all go through shit from time to time,” she says. “But you gotta get your act together. You could get fired.”

“Fired?” I laugh. “I doubt that. They need teachers and we get paid a shit wage. They’re not going to fire any of us.”

“There’s a whole group of teachers who would kill to have your job. I wouldn’t act so cocky. You’d be shocked how fast they replace people here,” she says.

“God!” I half-yell. “This is all so pointless.” Kneeves peeks his head out in the hallway and raises an eyebrow.

“Come with me,” she grabs me, pulling me outside of the school. “You’re going to get yourself in trouble. You have to be smarter with how you display your emotions, girl.”

“I know,” I sigh. “It’s just that everything is so hard. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing with my life. Like, why did I move to Canton?”

“Welcome to adulthood,” she says. We continue walking until we’re outside of the school grounds, at the edge of the trees by the side of the road. She reaches into her purse and pulls out something long, skinny, and white. I see that it’s a joint. She lights it up and takes a drag. “Come on. Your turn,” she says.

“No thanks,” I whisper. “I don’t do that.”

“Just shut up and take a drag. It ain’t going to kill you,” she says.

I make an annoyed noise and take a drag, handing it back to her. Within a short amount of time, my body loosens up and I begin to relax. “Sorry,” I mutter.

“You feel better?” she laughs.

“Not really better, but it’s a little easier to deal with, I guess,” I shrug.

“What did he do to you? What happened? You guys were so good with each other,” she says. We both sit down against the curb and talk.

“I don’t really understand what happened myself,” I admit. “Everything was going really well. We were having fun. All of a sudden, he just flipped out on me.”

“Like how?” she asks.

“I told him he should come in and talk to the class about what it’s really like being a soldier. I thought it could be fun for the kids. He didn’t seem to think so,” I say. “Then, I grabbed his plaque of medals and he just flipped out. He jumped up and took it from me. It really scared me.”

“I told you. Halloway is all messed up. I swear, that man is broken,” she says.

“But Addison is different,” I say.

“That’s what you think,” she replies. “Who knows? You could be right, but he could also just be really good at burying this stuff. I think his whole platoon, or whatever, saw some real bad shit. I doubt he’s going to want to open up to you about it anytime soon.”

“Look, I get it. War is hell. I’ve heard that phrase over and over again. I’ve seen the pictures in the news. I know what happens. But it’s like, don’t be weird and hide things from me, you know? If you want to be with me, open up to me about it, or just tell me you need some time. I’m a pretty understanding woman,” I say.

“Maybe you just need to be with someone different,” she says. “Maybe Addison isn’t the one for you?”

“I don’t know,” I sigh loudly.

“Look, you had some fun. That’s what happens sometimes. You have fun and then you don’t have fun. You move on and meet other people,” she says. I look down at the ground, feeling utterly hopeless.

“I just wish I didn’t agree to this. This is my new home and now it feels… I don’t know, it feels tainted or something,” I say.

“I know, honey,” she hugs me. “But look on the bright side! You still have me!” she smiles and it makes it a little better.

“Yeah,” I giggle. “I know. I’m grateful.”

She chucks the joint out onto the street and says, “Come on. We’re going to have some fun.”

* * *

She takes me to the Rough & Tumble, a local “Country-style” bar, full of ruffians and derelicts. We walk in and it feels like all eyes fall on us.

“I love this place,” she says, smiling wide. In the corner is a bull-riding machine. The whole thing screams “tacky” to me, but what do I know? I’m just a girl from the city. We don’t have these kinds of places back home, and I’m actually getting excited I get to see it in person.

“This is the only place in Illinois that’s like this. There’s probably like two cowboys in this town, max, but people come and dress up. It’s fun,” she says.

“Two whiskeys,” I yell at the bartender.

“Two whiskeys for the pretty lady.” The bartender winks and lowers the front of his hat. “Coming right up!”

Judy looks at me and whispers, “Okay, it’s on. Looks like we’re having a day.”

The man pours the shots and slides them over our way. We both grab them and hold them in the air. “To friendship,” I say.

“To friendship.” She smiles. We both look each other in the eye when we take the shot and I wince as it burns my throat. I stick out my tongue, wincing still, and then I see someone in the corner of my eye. Judy, of course, looks over too.

“Oh shit, girl,” she laughs. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“I do believe so,” I say in a weird accent.

“Well, he’s all yours,” she says. “I’ve got Halloway to deal with.”

“What?” I react, taken aback. “I thought you didn’t do the whole settled and dating thing. I thought you said that Halloway was crazy.”

“He is,” she says with a smile. “But that’s why I like him. Besides, we’re not dating. I’m just staying with him for a bit. You know, until I get bored.”

“Ugh,” I sigh, glancing at the man in the corner. He’s shorter than Addison and he lacks the muscular build, but he’s got a handsome face and a melancholic gaze, strong enough to bury a lady.

“Go!” She pushes me toward the man, even though I don’t know if I want to talk to him.

He turns and glances at me. He smiles and sets down his pool cue. “Give me five minutes,” he says to the guys playing with him. They angrily sigh, but when they see me, they whistle.

The thing is, I immediately regret mentioning anything. The man can’t keep his eyes off my tits and it’s not in a flattering way at all. Not to mention, every time I look at him, I compare him to Addison. Guess what? He just does not compare.

“Hey, pretty lady.” He kisses at me. “What’re you up to tonight? You all alone?”

“No,” I whisper and then cough to get the words out, “I’m with my friend.”

He looks over my shoulder at Judy and nods. “Alright, alright.” He smiles. “So, you two looking to have some fun or what?”

“Excuse me?” I’m taken aback. My heart starts beating, telling my body, “Run. Run now!” but I don’t. I’m paralyzed. I just stand there, totally confused and awkward. Maybe it was the joint I smoked. I don’t know. All I know is that this was a really bad idea.

“You and your friend,” he continues. “You girls like fun, right?”

I don’t say anything, so he just goes right on talking. “You know, me and my friends are goin’ back to the pad in a little bit. We’re going to throw a little kickback. You guys should come. It’ll be fun,” he says.

“I don’t know,” I say, practically trembling, and not in a good way. I start to feel totally horrible. My chest begins to feel like it’s enclosing in on my vital organs. I fall into a panic attack and struggle to get out of it.

“Come on.” He touches my arm lightly. “You know you want to. We’ll play nice.”

The door swings open. I back away from him, only to have him walk two steps forward. Fuck. Why did I come here with Judy? This was such a dumb idea. I didn’t need an evening on the town. I needed a friend. I needed a day to myself, to be honest.

The door swings closed. I look over and there’s Addison and Halloway, walking amongst the crowd. Addison looks completely handsome. He also looks bears the look of sadness. He turns to his left and when he sees me, his eyes practically pop out of his skull.

I see him mouth the words “What the fuck…” and his whole face turns a deep shade of purple. That’s when the cluster-fuck begins.

He quickly walks over my way and moves in between me and the guy. “What the hell is going on?” he asks, voice shaking. In fact, his whole body is shaking. This is not good. It’s not good at all.

“I—” I choke, unable to get the words out. Tears form in my eyes, but I somehow have the strength to keep them down for long enough.

“You what?” he laughs, angrily. “You’re just done with me?”

“Hey pal, come on. Leave her alone,” the guy says. Addison, of course, ignores the man.

“I don’t know,” I say. “I didn’t want to come here. Judy just brought me here. I didn’t know!”

“You didn’t know you were talking to a man at the bar? Are you out of your fucking mind?” he asks me, with a loud groan at the end. “Come on!”

“I’m sorry, Addison. I’m really fucking sorry. I wasn’t going to do anything. I swear,” I plead. It’s the truth. I didn’t want anything to do with this man. It was just a dumb mistake. I feel like I was pushed into this. I don’t want to blame Judy because I know she has good intentions, but I would have never come here if it wasn’t for her.

“This is fucked,” he shouts. “No. This is beyond fucked. This is betrayal.”

“Buddy, you need to fucking relax,” the other man says. “Stop messing with her. She can make her own choices.” The man puts his hand against Addison’s wrist and Addison jumps back, swinging his arm.

“No, Addison! Don’t,” I start to cry. I don’t care how that makes me look. I just feel so hopeless in this moment that I have to let it all out. “Please.”

He looks right at me and then turns back to the guy. He socks him right in the face. Of course, this doesn’t sit well with anyone in the bar. At least six men come running up to the commotion, tackling Addison to the ground.

“Get the fuck off of me!” he yells. I’m crying, Judy is freaking out, and Halloway has joined in the fray, slamming a pool cue over a guy’s face. The whole thing is complete chaos.

Addison is getting his face pummeled by multiple men now.

“This isn’t fair!” I scream. But Addison gets another wind of energy. He somehow forces himself out of the headlock that he’s in and pushes back against the crowd. He swings at everyone, knocking someone back. He punches the guy and the guy falls to the ground, knocked out cold.

Addison and Halloway team up, swinging at the rest of them. It’s shocking to watch because they’re trained fighters. One man falls. Another man falls. A third man hits the pool table and breaks his arm.

“We have to get out of here,” Halloway yells to Addison. “Cops will be here any minute, no doubt.”

Addison turns to me after beating every last one of these guys up. “You did this,” he tells me. “You broke my heart. No. You broke me.”

I fall to the floor, tears streaming down my face. You broke me. What the fuck have I done?

Addison

Helena runs out of the bar, crying her fucking eyes out. I’m left with a bloody and bruised face, body, and ego. I run out with Halloway not too long after, mostly because the cops are surely on their way. What I really want to do is go back in that building and show them who’s boss, but really, the fight was unfair to begin with. Halloway and I are SEALs. We can take on anyone who comes our way.

We end up driving miles out, toward an old lake we used to drink at. Lucky for us, we have a few beers in the trunk of his car. It’s a time to reconnect, a time to rediscover our roots. Of course, bar fighting will do that to a SEAL. At least, it will for anyone who was in our platoon.

“Fuck, I’m all banged up,” I whisper as I open a can of Coors. I drink it quickly, and roll the cold can around my face. “I’m getting old. This shit is starting to hurt more.”

“What is? Heartbreak?” Halloway chuckles softly, but his tone is sad.

“Ha, I wasn’t thinking that, but you’re right. Heartbreak does hurt more,” I admit. “I just can’t believe the woman.”

He nods and takes a small sip of his beer. “You heard her though, right?” he asks. I raise a confused eyebrow. “She said Judy brought her along, and that it wasn’t her fault. It was just one of those wrong place, wrong time situations.”

“I’ve heard that a million times,” I say, staring out at the ice-cold lake. It’s started to freeze over, but it’s not exactly solid yet. There’s an urge in me to jump in, to just say, “fuck it,” and see what happens. However, I sit still and keep on staring.

“Yeah, but I think she may be telling the truth,” he says. “Judy is wild, man.”

“Wild? She’s a teacher. How wild can she really be?” I ask him. “Every time I see them together, they just gossip. Sounds like typical girl shit to me.”

“Nah, man. Like, she’s crazy. That’s why I like her. ‘Cause I’m off my head, just like her,” he laughs. “Seriously, I bet she dragged her to that bar and made her talk to that guy. She didn’t seem like she was having a great time.”

He’s right. She did seem a bit out of character. “He had his hand on her arm,” I protest. “Did you see it? If you saw it, you’d understand my anger. He touched my girl.”

“I thought you two weren’t dating,” he laughs. “I thought you two were just fooling around.”

“You know what I mean,” I spit against the grassy dirt.

“I think something’s going on with you, man,” he says to me. It infuriates me. Who the hell is he to talk to me about issues? I stand up and chuck the can of beer into the lake. I instantly regret doing it, however, and grab a large stick and fish it out. “See what I mean?” he asks.

“I kind of flipped on her the other day,” I admit, kneeling down. I rub my face in my palm and breathe out, until a calm washes over me. Of course, that doesn’t last too long. “God, I’m so fucking arrogant. I’ve kept too much from her. She thinks I’m a saint.”

“What happened?” he simply asks, ignoring the rest of my outbursts.

“She grabbed my plaque of medals,” I say. “It made me lose my shit. I don’t know why. I just didn’t want her to see it.”

“I hear ya,” he says, finishing his beer. “I don’t like it when people bring it up either. They’ve got all their notions about what it is to be a soldier, but in the end, they have no fucking clue what it’s like. It’s a tribe. Things happen. Some of them are commendable and some of them, well, just aren’t. The medals and all that shit are just for show. It’s for the rest of the world to gawk at.”

“Yeah,” I laugh. “Accessories. When I got them, I was pretty fucking proud. I thought I would wear them all the time, and for a while, I did.”

“Ha, remember how many women used to flock over to us when we wore our uniforms out? I swear, it was the biggest pussy magnet in the whole fucking world,” he says, thinking back.

“Hell yeah, I remember. It was fun while it lasted, but after a while, I just started to feel bitter. You know?” I ask.

“I know,” he says, nodding plainly.

“And like, now I just want to be a normal person. I want to repair people’s homes and make people feel good in that way. I want to go home after a long day of work, enjoy a beer, and be like any other person in the world. I want to watch TV and have a wife. I hate to say it, but I want to ignore that part of me,” I say. I feel like I need to clarify myself, though. “It’s not that I’m embarrassed or ashamed of being a SEAL. I wouldn’t do anything different if I could. It’s just that I’m done with that part of my life. That was then. This is now.”

“Man, women seem so complicated sometimes, but I think men might be the hardest creatures to read,” he laughs.

“Fuck,” I laugh too. “That’s true. I don’t want to admit that, but it’s damn true.”

“I think you have your answer,” he says. “I don’t think it has to be over between you two if you don’t want it to be.”

“How so?” I ask. “Pretty sure she hates my guts.”

“Nah, she’s just embarrassed and a little frightened,” he says.

“I guess, man.”

“Look, just apologize to her. Buy her some pretty flowers. Do something nice for her. And tell her what you just told me. You’ll be fine,” he says.

“You think?” I ask him.

“Man, I know so. Judy’s tryin’ to teach me. I guess she’s taught me some shit. After you’re done telling her the honest truth, there’s no way she won’t be back, around your cock and screaming your name,” he says, clapping his hands loudly.

“I hope you’re right, man. Helena is the best lay I’ve ever had,” I admit. “She’s always the sweetest flower in all of Canton. I miss her.”

“Don’t get too sappy now,” he says, eyeing me. “I still need a partner to get in bar fights with.”

“Halloway, you know I’m always down for a good fight,” I laugh. We both clink our cans together and finish another round. Things are a little weird right now, but I’m starting to have hope that it can be better.

Helena

I manage to get the confidence to text Addison the next day. It’s a Saturday and I don’t have any school, thank God. I live for my weekends, just like the kids in my classes do. Part of me wants to see if he’s okay. I know he was hurt in that fight last night and it makes me feel like total shit.

Another part of me, however, wants to turn a blind eye to the whole thing. He flipped out on me. He made me feel like I was nothing. Worse than that, he made me feel scared for my own safety. That isn’t okay. But even with all that bullshit, I still feel a connection to him. It’s one of those conundrums that you just can’t shake.

So I give in to my annoying brain and I text him. “You free today? I need those lights fixed still. My house is getting darker every day.”

He replies within minutes. “Sure thing. I have an opening at 7, if that works.”

“Sounds good,” I reply back. I hold my finger over the keys of my phone, wondering if I should ask how he’s doing. I feel like a bitch, even though it’s not exactly my fault. Wrong place, wrong time. That’s what it was. I decide I’ve said enough and I force myself toward distractions.

I grab my bike and go, even though it is not the time to ride. I don’t care. I need something. I need an escape. I need to feel the wind whipping across my face. I want to feel alive again, as alive as I did when I was with him. “Addison, you son of a bitch,” I say to myself, feeling the air in my lungs get tighter. “Why do you do this to me?”

I walk off my porch and I put my feet on the pedals. I ride like there’s no tomorrow and it feels so fucking good. It almost feels better than sex. I smile and howl, laughing to myself. It’s that fun to just get away from all the crap that’s been stressing me out. Sometimes, you just have to do that. Give it all up and go for a ride.

But then I come across that park, that big open space where we first kissed. The night I ran away. Fuck, I start to remember it all so clearly. I turn into the park and ride up to the bench slowly. I get off and I notice that his jacket is still there, but it’s basically turned into a giant icicle.

A tear falls from my eye, rolling down my cheek. It falls onto the jacket. I wipe at my face and pick the jacket up. I put it in my bike basket and ride home, slowly. It’s getting darker outside and I know Addison will be driving over pretty soon. I look like shit, but I don’t care. He’ll just have to deal with the real me from now on, since I’ve seen the real him.

I ride back and notice that Addison’s car is already in my driveway. He’s leaning against the back bumper, wearing his typical work clothes. Even though it’s freezing out, he doesn’t have a jacket on, just an undershirt. It’s probably because the only jacket he owns is the one in my basket.

“Hey, beautiful,” he says with a smile, like he’s unsure whether or not he’s allowed to call me that.

“Hi.” I smile back, trying to be warm with him, but it’s hard now that we’ve gone through this. His whole face is pretty banged up. It’s totally swollen on one side and there’s a large cut over his left eye. Bruises cover his arms and I’m sure they’re across his chest too.

“Fuck,” I sigh. “You look like shit.”

“Ha, thanks,” he says, sourly. He steps forward and reveals a bouquet of flowers that he was hiding behind his back. “I got these for you. Freshly picked. I know it doesn’t really make up for what I did, but I thought it might be nice.”

My heart feels warm, but I’m also still hurt. I feel guilty too. It’s a bunch of strange emotions mixed together, and I totally hate it.

“Thank you.” I smile, eyes watering up. “They’re so beautiful.” I take the flowers and smell them, closing my eyes. They smell really great.

“I have something for you too,” I tell him. “Well, kind of.”

“For me?” he’s taken aback. “What do I even deserve from you? You shouldn’t have gotten me anything.”

“It’s nothing,” I say, reaching into my basket. I grab his jacket and hold it out. “Your jacket.”

He smiles pretty big when he sees it. “I left it on the bench, didn’t I?” he asks. I nod. “The night we met. That was nice.”

“It was,” I agree. “Until I took off running.”

“Yeah, well, it’s pretty funny to think back on, isn’t it?” he chuckles. “I probably would have run away too. We hardly knew each other then.”

“Yeah, but I guess we still don’t really know each other.”

“That’s sort of a good thing, probably,” he sighs. “I guess I’m kind of an ass. At least, that’s what I’m learning, anyway.”

“Come inside,” I say. “You look cold.”

I unlock my door and set the flowers down on the table. Inside, the heater is going and it’s nice and cozy. I light some candles to get some light going. I turn some of the lights on, the ones that are working, and meet him in the living room. “Thanks for coming,” I say.

“No problem. It’s what I do,” he says. “So, where are these lights? Let’s get this fixed for you.”

We totally ignore the problems between us. We choose to be practical adults instead. I show him the light problem and he goes to work. I imagine this is when all the housewives in the world bring him iced tea and sandwiches, before talking about how their husbands work way too much, leaving them lonely and vulnerable. Of course, here I am, an annoying young teacher who just really wants her lights fixed.

After about thirty minutes, he’s finished and the whole house is finally illuminated. “Good as new,” he says to me, while washing his hands in my bedroom’s bathroom. “You got a towel?” He holds out his hands, dripping wet onto the floor.

“Um,” I hesitate.

“No, it’s cool. He takes off his shirt and wipes his hands. I can’t help but look at his body, glistening from working so hard.

“Do you…” I stutter and gulp down hard. “Do you want some iced tea? Or a sandwich, or something?” I say, blushing.

God, I’m just like those housewives. Before I know it, we’re sitting in the kitchen like everything is okay again. Only, there’s a giant elephant in the room and no one wants to acknowledge it.

Addison

I can’t stop staring at her beautiful fucking face. Only problem is, I can’t stop thinking about how much I fucked things up. My temper got the best of me. I went swinging at that guy. I could have just apologized to her, but I lost my cool. The SEAL in me went full-on battle mode.

But I’m here. I’m in her house and she’s making me a sandwich. It can’t be that bad. Can it?

“I fucked up,” I finally say, as she spreads some mayo onto the bread. She stops making the sandwich and turns around. “I know I did. I think I need to come clean with you. I need to show you my real colors.”

“What are your real colors?” she asks, unsure whether to sit down or stand up. Finally, she takes a seat and waits for me to speak up. I don’t know what to say. This whole thing is so hard for me. How is she going to understand what I’ve been through?

I lay it all out. “I don’t want to be a soldier anymore,” I say. “I don’t want to be identified as that.”

“Why not? It’s honorable. You saved people’s lives. You did your duty,” she says.

“But that’s just it. I wish I could tell you about the things I’ve seen. What some of us did… it’s just too hard, sometimes,” I admit. “Some of it was honorable. Some of it was just not what I was expecting. It was anything but honorable.”

“What do you mean?” she asks. “Addison, what did you do?”

“It’s not what I did,” I say. “It’s what some of our men did in front of us.”

“Addison, I know it’s hard to tell me these things. But if you want to keep seeing me, you’re going to have to open up. You can’t just keep me in the dark forever,” she says. “I won’t judge you, but I need to know. Who am I dealing with here?”

I feel my heart pounding, practically breaking my sternum. The adrenaline rushes in my body. The whole thing is akin to staring down a cliff. There’s that rush before you jump into the lake. You could lose it all. You could come out on top, with a new experience. The way she looks at me doesn’t let me know where I’ll end up, but I tell her anyway.

“Whole villages,” I say. “My men were given the wrong coordinates. We were tipped off and told the guys were hiding out in this place. So some of our men called it in. I watched as they firebombed the place. It was… God, it was fucked.”

There’s a long, but expected silence after I tell her this. Tears even fill up around my eyelids, but I don’t shed any. I don’t want to cry in front of her, a woman. I need to be strong.

“I was pretty close too. Me and Halloway, both,” I say, nodding and reliving the whole damn thing. “I mean, there were families living in that place. Poor fucking families who relied on their children and livestock. And now they’re all gone, all because some small-town idiots said the wrong numbers into a receiver. So yeah, the medals… They’re decorations. They don’t really mean much to me. I know the truth about war and it’s shit. I don’t care that it sometimes needs to be done. I don’t want to identify with it anymore.”

“Okay,” she says, taking a deep breath. “But you’re not going to hurt me, right? You’re not going to freak out and lose it on me?”

“Helena, I’m sorry for grabbing the plaque. I was embarrassed, scared, and to be honest, I was sad. I didn’t want you to know about that side of me. But, I promise. I’ll never hurt you. I couldn’t,” I tell her. It’s the God honest truth. She’s important to me now. She’s innocent. She’s beautiful. She’s what I want.

“Then I don’t care,” she says. “I just wanted you to be honest with me. I just wanted to know I was safe with you.”

“You’ll always be safe with me,” I tell her. “No matter what happens. Even if you decide you don’t want to be around me anymore, I won’t give you any trouble. I’ll stay away, or I’ll stay friendly.”

Her hand is on the table and I touch it lightly. “I’m sorry,” I say.

I squeeze her hand and my whole body floods with such good feelings, it’s like I’m on drugs. No, it’s like I’m young again. She makes me forget all of the bad shit. It’s all just good feelings with her.

“I forgive you,” she says. “Now eat your sandwich. You look hungry.” She smiles and looks so fucking gorgeous, that I fall to my knees and kiss her legs.

“Stop,” she laughs. “I look like shit.”

“You’re crazy,” I smile. “You look like a movie star. You’re an angel, I swear it.”

She blushes and I keep kissing her thighs. She runs her hands over mine and pulls me toward her. “You mean that?” My mouth is so close to the center of everything. I get hard immediately.

“You’ve no idea what you are to me,” I say. “You’re perfect. Fucking perfect.”

My teeth pull on the zipper of her shorts and she closes her eyes and breathes out. “Thank you,” she says. Her zipper comes down with my mouth and I rip off her shorts. I can’t believe my eyes when I see that she’s not wearing any panties. She blushes even more and says, “Well, I was hoping we might be able to figure things out.”

“I think we’ve figured it out,” I say, kissing at her pelvis. With each kiss, I lick and taste her skin once again. Roses, candy, sweetness, and all things nice. That’s what she tastes like. I finally lick around her wet and, now dripping, pussy. Her lips, her perfect lips, stand out to me and I have to go to town on her. I swallow her whole and leave her shaking.

She straddles my face from the chair, rubbing her cunt up and down. She uses me. She uses my tongue, my lips and my saliva. I want to be used by her and I want to use her. I want to experience all of her, once again. It feels like ages since we’ve done this.

She cums harder than the last time. She’s shaking like a vibrating toy and her voice trembles when she moans so loudly it echoes across the woods. “I’ve been missing this,” she says, afterwards.

I’m so hard and ready for her. She can see it. “I couldn’t live without you,” I smile. “Without this.”

She looks down at me, and averts her eyes back up. She doesn’t say a word. There’s no time for words. None of that now. Right now, it’s all about us. She takes my cock in my hand and smiles big, staring straight into my eyes. I place my hand on her wet mound and she firmly grips my shaft.

“Fuck me,” she says.

“What?” I ask her. She strokes my cock slowly, letting her saliva drip down across the tight skin. “I want you to say it again. Say it.”

“Fuck me,” she says, a little bit more bashful, but calmer. She’s radiant right now. She’s everything and I just want to explode inside her, despite all the risks. Truth is, I don’t want to break her heart again and I know that’s what I’m prone to do. I also don’t want her to break mine. It’s one of those Catch-22s you hear about, a conundrum. But right now, I’m okay with risking everything for one incredible night with her. I couldn’t imagine anything better.

“Bend over and beg,” I say, smiling.

She blushes and smiles, walking forward to the rug on the floor. She pushes out her ass and lowers her arms to the floor. “Like this?” she asks, placing her kneecaps against the rug. “Or like this?” She arches her back perfectly and waits for my approval.

“So far so good,” I smile to myself. My cock is fucking upright and aching for her. Yes, of course, this is what I want. I want to be as dirty as I can with this woman.

“What about this?” she smiles, licking the front of her teeth.

She’s so fucking hot that I could cum right now, so I have to hold myself back as best I can. She takes both her hands and places her palms across her cheeks, using her fingers to spread them apart for me. All I can see now is her wetness, dripping from her open lips, and it makes me fucking salivate.

“Oh, darling,” I smile, kissing the small of her back. “You are something else.”

“I know,” she laughs. “Now, fuck me Mr. Handy Man. Fix me and turn me on.”

I’ve been in and out of plenty of beds in my life, but no women have been as crazy and wonderful as this one. She knows just what I want, when I want it. I barely even have to ask. To think, this woman teaches children. God bless her soul!

I mount my body over her and take control, immediately. “You want to get fucked, baby?” I ask her. “You want every inch of me?”

But I don’t wait for her reply. I let it sink in. Every single, thick and throbbing inch. She holds her hands steady, balancing in my hard grip. I dig inside her, until I’m all the way deep. “Fuck,” she moans. Her voice suddenly becomes deep, as if it’s coming straight from the center of her body. I groan and hold her flesh tight.

I thrust back and forth, like a hard wave during high tide. I hit her shore, as forceful as I can. This time, there’s no holding back. I almost lost her. I could have been doomed to spend a lonely life in this bullshit town. Instead, I was given another chance. And now, I’m living it up.

I pound her as she opens herself for me. When she lets go, I grab her wrists and hold on. She pounds back, into me, pushing her ass down hard. She swallows me whole and I’m in pure ecstasy, and I never want to leave.

“Is that all you got?” she asks. “I thought you used to be a fighter. Or is that all in the past?”

She cocks her head and smiles. There’s more. Trust me, baby. There’s more. I don’t say a word. She’s getting cocky and I like it, but she better know what she’s getting herself into. Pain and pleasure. Sure, I’ll be gentle, after she begs.

I hold her wrists with one hand while reaching up and grabbing the thick of her hair. I pull back and forth, making sure to see if she likes what I’m doing. The whole time, she’s smiling so I know I’m good, and when I feel her drip across my thigh, I pound her even harder.

“Addison!” she screams my name. “Jesus Christ! Yes!” I let go of her wrists and hair, after pumping her for a good few minutes and she falls against the floor, laying on her stomach, twitching.

“I’m cumming,” she finally whispers. Frankly, I’m surprised. She’s getting into kinky territory, but she obviously loves it.

“Keep fucking me,” she says, still unable to get back onto her knees. “And cum inside me.”

When she says those words, it’s like a trigger for me. Game over. I’m done, I know it. Because when I look down at her, I don’t see some random girl. I see the most gorgeous woman on the planet. I see someone important, someone alluring and stunning. I see a woman I could spend years with. And even though that’s frightening as hell, it makes me lose it.

I move across her, enter her, and reach between the floor to grab her tits. I hold them, really feeling them in my hands. “You want me to make you pregnant?” I ask.

“Yes,” she says back, with a full smile. “Put a baby in me.”

I thrust hard and steady, with all the force a man can really have. My muscles grow stiff and my heart feels like it’s going to burst open, but I keep going. Within a minute, I feel my cock twitch and my body soon follows. Then, I’m all in. I’m cumming and I can’t stop. I don’t just do it once. I have two powerful orgasms, pumping slowly inside her. And when I’m done, I pull myself out and kiss every part of her body.

As the pleasure disappears, though, I’m still infatuated. I’m crazy about her. And when you’re crazy about someone, you stay as long as humanly possible.

“Did I fix you up?” I ask her.

Helena

“You either fixed me or broke me into a million pieces,” I laugh, throwing my hands over my face before fixing my hair. “Oh my God!”

“Yeah, it was that good. Wasn’t it?” he asks, looking smug.

“Don’t get cocky with me, now,” I say. “It was just a nice lay.”

“Bullshit,” he says. “It was fucking incredible. You’re fucking incredible.”

“Want me to get you pregnant?” I mimic and crack up.

He frowns. “Come on. Don’t do that!” he says. “I was really in the moment.”

“Well, it was hot,” I admit. “But I’m wondering now just how much you’re into me. You have a ring and a wedding date planned?” I ask him.

“Seriously?” he eyes me, annoyed.

“I’m just messing with you.” I smile. I reach out and touch his face, dragging my hand toward his pelvis. I feel his hair and it makes me wet. “It was really hot. I love how much you got into it. Maybe I should break it off with you more often.”

“Oh, man,” he groans. “I don’t know if I could take it.”

Does he really like me that much? Like, I know how hard this was for us, but he’s never reached out and asked me to be his girlfriend or anything. The thought comes into my head that maybe he wants to, but can’t say the words. After our big fallout, maybe it’s been too hard for him to tell me the truth of his feelings. Maybe he even loves me…

Oh, who am I kidding? No guy has ever really loved me. It’s always been a constant struggle with men, mostly because they all act like little children. Addison, however, is different. He’s strong, but not just in the physical sense. He has a strong will, whether he would want to admit it or not.

Plus, he’s not like these other guys I’ve been with. You know the type. The guys with a million dreams. The rock star, the writer, oh I could go on forever. The type of guy who thinks he’s going to do wonderful things, but it’s always at the expense of your life and your dreams.

Addison just isn’t the type. He’s lived out the role he wanted to play and I don’t think it was as great as he thought it would be. Now, he’s just a regular guy. I used to think I didn’t want that because I thought it meant a lack of ambition. But now I’m finding out that ambition comes in many different forms. He’s ambitious for me, and maybe he’s in it for the long haul. Question is: Am I?

He grabs me before I can even ponder at the question in my head. He spins me around and we’re spooning, naked. All I feel is warmth. The warm caress of his body against mine, the warm feeling he gives me… and even though it’s freezing cold out, I can’t even feel it right now. I just feel so good.

“Why do you want me so much?” I finally ask him, feeling his arms reach around my chest and hold me tight.

Of course, he doesn’t even hesitate. He has to be so perfect that it hurts. “You make me feel like the world can be a better place,” he says. “Looks aside, right? Because it’s pretty damn obvious you’re the most beautiful woman in this town.”

“Looks aside,” I laugh and close my eyes. Everything feels perfect now. I can’t help but have a big smile plastered onto my face.

“I’m serious. There’s some horrible things in this world. Especially now, you know? It all used to make me feel so hopeless. Now, I feel like things will get better. They have to,” he says.

“Why do they have to?” I ask him. “What makes you think things won’t just stay the same?”

“You’re not too convinced,” he laughs. “I can tell.”

“No,” I smile. “I mean, I don’t know. I just want to know why. I’m collecting data.”

“It’s just a feeling I have,” he shrugs. “I mean, the world made you, right? Then things have to be good.”

“Thank you,” I say as he kisses my cheek. “I do feel like things are changing for the better.”

“Good,” he says.

It’s a simple answer. Who knows if things will work out? I don’t yet. We just got out of a big fight, so we’re bound to make up in a huge way. But, for now, I can live with his type of optimism. For now, I can live with feeling on top of the world. I just hope it doesn’t come down crumbling.

Helena

Sunday, he wakes me up with eggs, bacon, the best damn toast I’ve ever smelled, and a huge cup of coffee.

“Hey, you,” I say with a sleepy smile, blinking my eyes. “Ugh, I slept so well.”

“Me too,” he says. “Thought I’d make you some breakfast before church.”

I blink my eyes at least fifty more times. “Church?” I repeat. “What?”

“Yeah, it’s Sunday. We have to be at church in an hour,” he says.

“Um,” I gulp down. “You know I’ve never been to church, right?”

His smile fades. “You sinful, little…” His smile returns and he jumps into bed with me, tickling me.

“No!” I scream. “I’m sorry! I’ll pray more!”

He kisses each nipple and then my neck. “Nah, I don’t go to church either. I’m just messing with you,” he laughs.

“Don’t do that.” I smile, blushing. “I’m not ready for that, yet.”

“Yet. So you will be someday,” he says.

I shrug. “I don’t know. Let’s check back in in ten years,” I wink.

“Fair enough,” he mutters, kissing right below my bellybutton.

I take a bite of food and within seconds, I’m already gobbling every last bit of it. “Ugh, I needed that,” I say. “I’ve actually been so hungry these past few days.”

“Good,” he smiles. “I’m trying to fatten you up.”

“Oh yeah?” I laugh.

“Yes, actually. I like ‘em thick,” he says, making my face turn red-hot.

The rest of the day is spent eating junk food, pizza, and watching winter-themed movies. I just want to relax with him after all this hard shit, and he obviously does too. The fact that we’re getting along this well makes me feel a little off. Like, things don’t ever go this well. Or if they do, things tend to fuck up little by little. However, so far, it’s been a dream.

When sunrise hits, he takes me by the hand. He holds it close to himself, thinking for a second. “What is it?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” he says. “I just want to do something impulsive, you know?” Please, God, no marriage proposals yet. I’ll go to church if you want. Just let this phase last a little longer.

“Um, yeah, I guess,” I giggle. “What’re you thinking about doing? There’s not too much to do around here.”

“There’s tons to do around here,” he says. And then, after a few minutes, he claps his hands. “I’ve got it! Let’s go sledding.”

“Sledding?” I repeat.

“Hell yeah, sledding. Let’s get real drunk and go to the highest hill in the city. And then let’s go downtown and ice skate.”

“Fine,” I say. “I’m game, I guess. But I have class in the morning so we have to leave now.”

“Good, I’ve got Mrs. Farlens’ window latch at 8 AM,” he laughs. “Let’s do it.”

I run to the front door before he can even call after me. I swing it open and pounce onto the snow, laughing. These past few days have been nice and I guess it’s time to finally live it up.

“Come on!” I yell, jumping into his car.

He gets in and turns to me. “So, this is technically a date, right? We’re dating?”

“Yes.” I kiss him. “Finally.”

Addison

Man, I haven’t felt this free with a woman in a long fucking time. We drive to the closest, biggest hill we can find and there’s no one there. It’s sunset and the orange rays are practically bursting through the trees. Everything is just perfect: the snow is like powder and we have a 12 pack that we keep going back to.

I grab my old sled out of the back, pick her up in my arms, and walk up that hill. We’re both laughing and when I almost slip and bust my face open, she falls onto the snow, landing in a cloud of powder.

“I’m sorry!” I scream, falling myself. We’re laying side by side, feeling the cold snow soak our clothes, but everything is perfect.

“You almost broke your teeth!” she yells, laughing so loudly it echoes.

“Not funny,” I smile. And then I hold her and it’s all good. “Alright let’s do this,” I say, picking myself back up and dusting the snow off.

We continue our climb up, until we’re at the very top. “You can see everything from up here,” she says, eyes wide and full of glittering light. Down below are the Christmas lights people have put up and they look incredibly beautiful from up here.

“Not much to do in this town, but at least it feels like home,” I say, holding her close to me.

“Yeah,” she smiles. “It really does. Like, surprisingly.”

We both sit in the sled, but we don’t move it forward yet. Instead, we just watch as the little ants below us drive their cars and move around the downtown area. “I like this,” I nod to myself.

“Me too,” she says.

“What’s it like in New York City during the winter?” I ask her. “Like Home Alone or something?”

“Nah,” she sighs. “It’s worse. And better. It’s just a lot different. New York is just so big. It’s easy to get swallowed up.”

“Seems like it. Seems… intense,” I say. “I mean, you know I’ve seen a lot, but I don’t think I could survive in a city like that.”

“You can if you work every day and every single hour of your life,” she says. I nod.

“Well, you don’t have to do that around here. You just have to be friendly. That’s sort of the currency around here. If you give a lot of that, you get a lot in return,” I say.

“Mmhm,” she moans. “So, you gonna push this thing or what?”

I laugh and start pushing the sled with my foot. We get to the edge of the hill and I call out, “Hold onto your big ol’ butt.”

“I’m scared!” she exclaims, but it’s already too late. No time to chicken out now. We feel the push of gravity and we fly down that hill, going at least twenty miles an hour.

“Ahhh!” we both scream in unison.

I hold onto the edges of the sled, while she holds onto me. It goes by fast, but it’s fun and brings me back to when I was just a young boy. That was back when I didn’t know I would meet a woman like this, back when I prayed I would meet a woman like Helena. When we get to the bottom, we’re ready for more.

“Take me back up,” she says, out of breath. “We gotta do it one more time, at least.”

“Hell, at this rate, I can go all night,” I say. For some reason, the small things in life can sometimes feel better than sex. Shit, maybe I’m getting soft. Maybe I’m fallin’ in love. We race down that big hill, one last time, and feel the cold wind rush against our skin, the freeness from enjoying ourselves. She takes my hand as we go down and I feel that surge of electrifying energy shooting through my body. My cock grows hard and my heart turns full. It’s a feeling I want forever.

“Come on,” I say. “Let’s get out of here.”

We run back to the car, slam the doors, and speed off toward the downtown area. There are lights in the distance, and I know there are people who just want to feel close to someone for the night. We’re all searchin’ for the same damn thing out here and for once in my life, it doesn’t feel sad. It feels warm and good, and… shit, I’m getting all soft again. But how can I control my emotions when I’ve got her next to me, in this car, driving toward oblivion?

We pull into the parking lot and she turns to me, looks me in the eye, and sighs. “Wait,” she says.

“What are you thinking?” I find myself asking. “What’s wrong?”

She looks at me and I feel like she’s going to cry. Or get angry, or I don’t know. I’m so used to women turning on me in these pivotal moments that I guess I keep my guard up and wait for the worst. But she doesn’t do any of those negative things. Instead, she smiles and closes her eyes.

“Nothing. Nothing at all,” she says. “I just want to remember this night forever.”

And then something fucking crazy happens. Outside our car, little white snowflakes begin to fall, all around us. I grab her and pull her close to me. The heater in this car may be broken, but our hearts aren’t tonight. And when I feel that warmth against my body, I kiss her, feeling her lips crush against mine.

Pure joy. Elation. Pure, utter, happiness. Fuck it. I’ll admit it. I’m in love. I don’t give a damn anymore about saying it. I’m in love, love, love, and there’s no chance in hell that’s going to change.

Tonight, our hearts are free.

Helena

I don’t understand it. I don’t know how this could happen. But when he’s thrusting inside of me, his strong body right against mine, I feel like I’m queen of the entire universe. I feel full, in so many ways.

We fuck the night of the heavy snowfall. We fuck in the car, we fuck in my house, on the counter, you name it. We make love in every single nook and cranny we can jam our bodies into. And when it’s all over and we’re breathing like marathon runners on speed, we sit and talk for hours, and just stare into each other’s eyes endlessly.

The time comes, however, for me to go back to work. He begs me to stay, of course. He pleads, holding me tight, my back against his chest, and his arms around my breasts. I feel so warm with him like this, but it can’t say this way forever. Yes, I’m falling for him. I have to be honest with myself. But I also have a career to think about, a future.

“I have to go,” I say with downcast eyes. The thought of staying in this bed is so comforting, that I almost give in.

“You can’t leave,” he says. “Come on. Stay with me.”

“This is my house,” I laugh. “We both have to leave. Come on. I’ll give you a ride.”

He groans and puts up a fight by kissing me to death, but eventually he gives in. “Fine,” he says. “I’ll go. I’ll do what you want.”

I roll my eyes and jump out of bed. I throw on a pair of underwear and he slaps my ass and squeezes. “God, I’m going to miss that thing,” he smiles and kisses it.

“It’s not going anywhere permanent,” I say. “This ass needs to go teach some children about the English language.”

“Sounds boring,” he says, buckling his belt over his old pair of jeans. He throws on his pair of work boots and looks up at me. His arms look really fucking good right now in that shirt. “And pointless. But if that’s what you’d rather do, I get it.” He winks, letting me know he’s joking, but he’s being a butthead, nonetheless.

“Well, I don’t care what you think. The English language is the reason why I get a crappy paycheck every week,” I say, grabbing my coat and opening the front door. He follows me out into the cold and I notice that the snow has already melted away.

“Going to be a good day outside,” he says, breathing in.

I take him home and he kisses me goodbye. “Call me later,” he says, and I promise him that I will. He stands on his front porch as I drive away. I can see him in my rearview mirror, just staring at my car. He waves goodbye and heads back inside as I move into the distance.

When I get to school, the sun is starting to get a bit brighter. Judy is sitting in the teacher’s lounge, eating a sandwich. She’s got a big smirk on her face. I nod at her and grab a cup of crappy school-brewed coffee.

“What’s so funny?” I laugh, trying to read her.

“Kneeves said he saw you at the ice rink,” she beams. “He said you were getting real close with Navy Boy.”

“Kneeves said that?” I make a grossed-out face. “Yeah, well, he took me on another little date. So what?”

She puts her hands on the table and clicks her fingers on the wood. “You two getting married, or what?” She laughs, but I don’t think it’s very funny.

“You’re annoying. We’re having fun. A lot of fun,” I scoff at her. “Actually, I do think something is really happening here.”

“You do?” She raises her eyebrows and forces a crooked smile out. “Well, lucky you, I guess.”

The look on my face tells me she’s not happy with my new found, well, love. Can I call it that yet? Yes, love. “What’s wrong?” I ask her. “You’re not happy for me?”

“No, I am. Really, I am,” she sighs and betrays herself when her eyes move toward the floor. “Oh, I don’t know. I just always thought things would be different for me. I’m getting fucking old, Helena. Too old. And the guy I’m seeing is a total misogynist. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Judy, you are not old. You have time to figure things out,” I try and reassure her of the obvious, even though I know she feels that her biological clock is ticking away. “You’ve got a good career here and people really like you.”

“No they don’t.” She breathes heavily and turns a pinkish red hue. “People think I’m too loud. They think I’m too vulgar. The truth is, I’m unlikeable and you know it.”

“I like you,” I say. “Doesn’t that mean anything? Doesn’t it?”

“It means more than you know,” she says. That’s sort of when I realize that Judy is much more depressed than it seems. This wild and extremely fun woman is also scared and feeling alone. In fact, I think I’m her only friend. Unfortunately, this puts me in a weird place. Although I love being around her, I also love being around Addison, and right now, that’s more important to me. In the end, I hope I don’t have to choose between them. I hope that her jealousy doesn’t get in the way of my happiness.

Before the first period bell rings, Principal Kneeves walks in. I see him almost every day, but we’ve hardly had the time to really talk about real life. Since he’s my boss, he essentially holds the keys to my existence. Which is exactly why I don’t have too many heart to heart conversations with the guy.

When he heads over to our table, I hold my breath and just hope he’ll keep walking to the coffee machine. Of course, he doesn’t, and I’m left with a plastic smile plastered on my face.

“Hello, ladies,” he smiles and adjusts his glasses. He stares at Judy and I swear I see him glance at her breasts. What a little pervert, I think to myself and laugh. “How are we this morning?”

“The sun came up today, right?” Judy says, half-annoyed with the guy. She’s more ballsy than I am, speaking her mind like this.

I act like a coward and reply with the standard, “Great! And you?”

“Good. I have no complaints, of course,” he says, bouncing on the back of his heels. “Oh, Helena! I wanted to have a little talk with you. Can you come to my office?”

“Um, sure. But shouldn’t we wait until after class? Maybe around lunch?” I ask, in hopes this isn’t something detrimental.

Of course this would happen to me. Of course I would somehow fuck this job up. I keep searching for reasons why he’d want to speak with me, but nothing comes to mind. And then I remember. That little bitch in my class. The girl, Linda, who called me a ‘lying bitch.’ Oh God.

“This won’t take very long,” he smiles. “Just a little check in. Anyway, shall we?” He motions toward the door and I find myself mechanically pushing my seat back and scurrying to the packed hallway.

Outside are screaming kids, pushing and playing with each other. It’s a madhouse every single morning with the kids displaying their vast quantities of energy with full force. “Right this way,” Kneeves mutters. Then, he turns to some kids that are playing a bit too rough and touches the shoulder of one, saying, “Hey, settle down. Not on campus.”

The kids run away in shock and fear that they almost got in trouble. To them, the principal is like a monolith. He’s not to be messed with. In reality, Kneeves has very little say with the going-ons in the world.

We step into his office and I sit in front of his desk. I soon to begin to feel my heart quicken for some reason, and I realize how the students must feel when I send them here. “Let’s talk. What’s up? Anything wrong?” I ask, smiling.

“Oh, no,” he says. “I just wanted to ask you a few things.” My heart begins to settle immediately and my face turns calm.

“Okay, shoot,” I say. “What’s on your mind?”

“I saw you at the ice rink the other day,” he says. “It’s a fun place. I actually went with my mother. We’ve been going every holiday season since, well, forever.”

“That’s really sweet,” I manage to choke out, feeling sort of sad for the guy. “Yes, I went with my boyfriend Addison. You know, th—”

“Right! The town handyman,” he says, nodding. The way he’s referred to as the town handyman doesn’t settle with me right, at all. He’s so much more than that.

“The Navy SEAL,” I correct him, feeling a trickle of pride creep into my sense of well-being. Before he can take any offense, I mutter, “Yes, it was a really fun night.”

“Well, the reason I’m even bringing that up is that I have a question about his friend. Holloway, is it?” he asks. I nod and he continues. “I don’t want to pry too much into your relationship, so please stop me if I’m being too invasive. I just want to know if—” He stops himself and turns beet red with embarrassment. It starts to dawn on me what he really wants to ask.

My smile turns big and invasive. Kneeves starts to shrivel into his chair, covering his eyes for a brief moment with a stack of papers. “You like Judy don’t you?” I ask. “You want to know if she’s single. That’s why you called me in here, right?”

He starts to break out into a light sweat and the jerk in me finds it amusing, but also it’s really cute. “Yes,” he squeaks. “Uhh, yes. I do.”

“Wow, Mr. Kneeves. You sly dog.” My smile grows even bigger and I relax even more. “You know, I’m really glad we’re having this talk because we haven’t really gotten to know each other. I feel good about our work relationship now.”

“I can’t even begin to think about what that means,” he says nervously. His eyes grow bigger and he asks again, “Well, is she? Single, that is?”

“Halloway,” I say.

“Yes? The other Navy guy. What about him? Is she seeing him?” he asks.

“His name is Halloway. You said Holloway,” I correct him. “And yes, they’re seeing each other. Although, I don’t know how much she’s into him.”

He keeps his gaze averted from mine, and gulps down hard. I know the feeling of disappointment and I want to help the guy if it’s possible.

“Oh, well,” he sighs. “It was worth the ask. Coworkers shouldn’t intermingle in that way, regardless, I suppose.”

“Fred, shut up,” I say, standing up and smacking my hand against the table. “She was just complaining about him in the teacher’s lounge, so I’ll talk to her. How does that sound?”

His eyes light up like a child and he starts to get this big grin plastered on his face. “That sounds great,” he says.

“Good. Go and buy some new clothes or something. Make yourself look presentable. I’ll talk to her tomorrow about it,” I say.

I walk out of that room with a surprised feeling of glee. If this works, I’ve definitely solidified a good spot here. And if it doesn’t, well, I’m pretty screwed. It’s worth the gamble.

* * *

“Sit on this cock, baby,” he whispers into my ear as I wake up from a deep power nap after class. Here I am, lying on my stomach, and I feel his thickness start to grow against the center of my ass. It begins to rise until I feel it floating toward my pussy, now wet, instinctually ready for him at this point.

“Push back on me,” he whispers again. The hot air from his breath tickles the back of my ear. It sends goose bumps up my spine, arms, inner legs, and I’m already waiting for him to enter me. He thrusts gently, but with enough force to make me dizzy with over-passionate lust.

“I’m dreaming,” I say. “Let me sleep.” It’s a mild protest against someone who knows how to put up a real fight. There’s no way he’s stopping now and I don’t even want him to. Why would I?

“Fuck your dreaming,” he mutters. Now his lips are against the back of my neck and my skin is so sensitive I shudder. I open my eyes and feel my heart pounding against the bed sheet. I push my butt back and up, just enough to feel the tip of his cock glide against my clit. Then I pull forward, and back again, until I feel him slip inside my core, and instantly I’m filled with enough pleasure to last me a lifetime.

“Oh God, Addison,” I moan. I turn my head and look at him through the mirror of his bedroom closet. I see his muscles tense as he thrusts forward with his strong will and determination.

Then, with all his might, he pulls me up from my slumber, hands around my supple breasts, and holds me upright. I’m sitting around him and we’re close, so fucking close. He envelops me, consumes me, and like a snake, slithers all around me until I’m no more.

I push back and forth, until we develop a hushed and hot rhythm, only defined by the warmth around us and the perfect inhales of pure elation and thirst. I need him. I need him like air in my lungs, water in my body, and blood rushing through my veins. He connects me to the ground in a much deeper way than ever expected. And when he spins me around to face him, he just slowly nods because he knows what is on both our minds.

“I love you,” he whispers, whilst every inch is bottoming out inside of me. I shudder with pleasure. His fist grips the left cheek of my ass, leaving red marks of ownership, the remnants of our deepest desire.

“I love you too,” I tell him. Our lips slide against one another. The waves of our pleasure don’t erode us like sand, or even the thousand-year-old rocks with dulled edges. No, we’re stuck, changed in growth and inflation, covered in the water of what we now call love.

This is it.

“I’m cumming,” I whisper. Only, I don’t need to even say it. We both knew that was going to happen within seconds. Our pupils dilate. My breasts slide against his chest. He grows and I open for him, only shrinking when necessary. He lifts me up and I bring him back down. I lift him up and he brings me to life.

I can’t live without him. No more can I be a slave to the mundane. This is our freedom. This is what we’ve chosen. Absolute and total annihilation, through the only mode of self-sacrifice we know. Only, the benefit is much greater than expected. It’s a gift placed right on my doorstep, left unopened, yet the joy of its mystery remains for a lifetime. Like running down on Christmas Day, only to find one star ornament shining back against the darkened winter light, I fall to my knees and leave the world behind for good.

I begin to shake. No, it’s a seismic earthquake where the whole world begins to collapse into itself. Heated, flowing, coagulating to the highest degree; we are now molded into something absolutely new and exciting. I shoot out of my body and so does he. I feel him do it, between the folds of my elusive center. He leaves me for nothing, the space in time that vows to bring us back together.

This is powerful. This is life. He keeps going, although he’s losing more and more of himself by the millisecond. Only when he’s completely drained and the skin shrinks back, and the hairs begin to pulse upward in electrified glory, does he come to, realizing he must now begin to fear what might come next. Love is painful, yet it is the only hope we have against the wretched end.

How does he make me feel?

We flow away from each other gently, with smiles on our faces. Our hearts begin to slow, though the extreme pounding never falters. What’s more is we can’t stop going back to it, in our heads and in the way our eyes dart back and forth. Things will forever change, just like they did on that fateful day where we happened to crash into each other, bike screeching against the concrete. However, that’s what pushes us forward. It is the search to keep it there, solidified in stone, as the water quickly recedes into its own shelter.

Addison

What has gotten into me? Why can’t I stop thinking about this woman? When she leaves my arms, I go ballistic. This time, it’s without physical violence or self-harm through booze and more women. This time, it’s a mental sickness. I swear, without her, I’m nothing.

This is fucked. But I can’t blame anyone this time. I’m all hers. Shit, I can’t even get to work anymore. I just have no energy to. Why should I care about Mrs. Landry’s broken faucet when I can focus on Helena, with triple the payoff? It’s just all so impermanent. Life is way too fucking quick. We all forget that sometimes, don’t we? How fast it all goes… Yet, it’s with that understanding that I’m forced to act. I’m forced to keep begging for her to stay in my arms, in my bed, around my solid cock.

I’ll keep begging if I have to. I don’t give a damn. I’ll fall to my fucking knees and be more of a man because of it. Halloway would laugh at me. He doesn’t understand the way I feel right now. But we all go through it in one way or another. We all find our person. Some just like to fuck it up. Some just like to watch it all burn away into oblivion.

“Stay,” I whisper the next morning. “Get breakfast with me. We can get coffee after and watch shitty movies.”

This time, my argument seems much stronger, yet she’s not giving in too easy. “You know I can’t, Addison,” she says, with big eyes. They move back and forth quickly as if she’s trying to read me, or plead for me to keep begging. “My class needs me. The kids need me.”

“I need you. My body needs you.” I say. “I yearn for you when you leave my arms. You know that? You know how shitty I feel when I’m all alone in this house, pacing around and doin’ God knows what?”

“Come on,” she laughs. “You don’t do that.” She says it as a matter of fact, but I know for certain that it’s really a solid question.

“Like hell I don’t,” I laugh. “Seriously, what else am I supposed to do?”

“You’re supposed to go to work!” she laughs, getting out of bed and grabbing her bra.

“Work? I can’t work anymore. All I do is think about you. Fuck work. Work is for the people out there. These feelings I have to keep at bay is the only work I can focus on right now,” I say.

“Well, that’ll pass. Someday you’ll get complacent. You’ll be like everyone else. And when that happens,” she says. “You’ll be faced with the consequences of not working. You’ll be broke and you won’t be able to buy me any cute things. And then I’ll have to leave you.”

She smiles so smug and so cute, that it makes my heart crack a little. “If that happens, I’ll do whatever it takes to get you that new dress, or necklace, or diamond-fucking-tiara. I’ll become a hitman if I have to. I’ll become a huge drug dealer kingpin,” I say. “Baby, I can never be complacent. So, you shouldn’t be either. Don’t go into work. Be here with me. Call out.”

My words today are good, that much I know. She closes her pretty little eyelids and heaves a slow and determined exhale. I watch and know that I’ve won the battle this time. She’s going to stay.

“Fine,” she says. “But only this one time. I can’t keep doing this.”

“You’re going to get that Kneeves guy to fuck Judy,” I laugh. “He’ll owe you the world. You’ve got so much leverage right now. This doesn’t matter to him. He knows he’ll do whatever it takes to get her. Hell, I know the feeling.”

“Ugh, you’re right,” she says. “It’s sad what you men will do for us, just to get inside us for a quick thirty minutes.”

“Don’t even try that shit,” I laugh. “You know I last an hour.”

“Sometimes even two,” she giggles. “No, really, I actually feel bad for the guy. He seems really lonely and lacks any confidence to do anything about it.”

“A very sad predicament,” I say. “Now call in.”

She calls in, faking the worst cough in the world, but it seems to work well enough. “Oh, don’t even bother!” I hear the words coming through the receiver. “I’ll mark it down and get a substitute. I hope you feel better.”

“Thank you, Fred. I’m really sorry,” she says.

“No worries, really,” he says, most likely smiling. “Oh! Um, did you talk to Judy yet?”

Of course, he has to ask about Judy. How could he not? “Not yet,” Helena responds. “But I promise I will. I’ll put in the best—” she coughs “—word for you.”

She hangs up the phone after he reluctantly okays her efforts and she heaves a heavy sigh of relief. “Ah,” she groans. “What’re you doing to me?”

“Everything. Literally everything.” I smile and kiss her stomach. Her naked body shines like a goddess trapped in some temple far east somewhere. The rays of sunlight that peek in through the windowpanes reflect sharp and hot. And I just want to make her pour.

I kiss lower and lower, around those hairs that act so forbidden. I kiss around her soft skin and she breathes erratically for just a split second, a short moment in time. She’s all mine and she knows it, but it’s a good thing because she knows that means she’s going to get everything that she’s ever wanted from me.

I kiss those folds, letting my saliva lightly drop onto the wet skin. I can practically see as she grows wetter for me, and I feel her with my fingers, splitting her open like a ripe fruit. “What are you doing?” she asks, without thinking. Yet, she slowly closes her lips and bites her tongue, and waits for me to continue, knowing exactly what I’m doing.

I don’t just do it for her. I do it for myself. I do it because I want to keep the taste of her in my mouth, so that I’m never without her. Does that make me crazy? Fuck no, it doesn’t. And if anyone was to come in my way of enjoying her like this for the rest of my existence, I’d go ballistic.

I fold my tongue over her lips and close my mouth around her skin — the dry parts and the wet parts, until she’s fully immersed in a sea of my sucking. And licking. And spitting. And everything else messy.

My tongue slides up and down, left and right. I push two fingers inside and when she keeps on moaning, I even insert a third one in. Finally, she agrees that she needs a fourth one, because after taking my cock for so many sleepless nights, she knows she needs more from me now, and I’m reeling from just how dirty we can get.

I place her legs around my shoulders and she squeezes her thighs against my neck. I hold on tight, curling my fingers up, pressing that spongy button of hers that causes her to twitch uncontrollably. I press and I push, and she falls back against those comfortable pillows, closing her eyes.

She fists my hair and squeezes hard. A current of energy shoots up my back. She pulls harder and begins to take control, letting me know exactly how she wants me. My tongue is like a bed of fucking roses that she can jump into after a hard day of work. She unwinds on me, gives me all her trouble, until she’s grinding her clit against that same bed of roses, defiling the whole damn place.

It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

She whips her hair back and practically rides my whole fucking face. She uses me as a platform for an explosion that’s about to take the whole world in. And when her pulse races, I can feel it on my mouth, can anyone believe that? We’re connected like this, completely knowing each other now. That by itself is a miracle. Before her, I didn’t give two shits about the girl I was banging. Now, she’s my entire world. Now, I’m willing to fight for her. I’m willing to lose it all in one moment.

“Yes!” she screams. “Oh God, yes!”

And I cup those ass cheeks of hers in my hand, fully, and keep that tongue sliding. Finally, she lets it all go. She loses herself, once more. Her whole body slumps against the bed, and the headboard, and the whole bed becomes soaking wet.

“That’s it, baby,” I whisper as she twitches. “Let it all out.”

And she does. For a full minute, she shows me just how much emotion is in that woman, deep down inside. “No,” she moans. “Yes.” A total contradiction. She can’t think straight and can only talk in these mysterious yes’s and no’s that make no difference to what is happening with my mouth.

I kiss her clit and look down. My cock is harder than solid steel. It doesn’t take long before her whole fucking mouth is around me, gagging down deep. She looks at me with those longing eyes, while I’m disappearing inside of her, and I just start cumming immediately.

“Fuck me,” I hiss. “Ah.”

The orgasm is far too good. It’s so fucking good that it hurts. I close my eyes, but before I do, I get a good look downward. My cock is pumping up and down from the might of my orgasm, shooting my cum against the back of her mouth. The image is too much to handle. Shit, I practically cum again before she releases, which is after much too long, when the head is way too sensitive.

This has been our life thus far and we fucking enjoy it. We wouldn’t want it any other way. “So…” I groan with satisfaction. “Want to get a pizza or something?”

She laughs and swallows down, wiping her lips slightly. She smacks my chest softly and smiles. “Yes,” she says. “Pepperoni, please.”

“I thought you liked the sausage,” I laugh, knowing it’s a dumb joke.

“Oh, God. Don’t start making jokes like that, please. It’s a total turn off,” she says.

I slap her ass and call to get the food. The rest of the night is spent watching the worst romantic comedies of all time, while holding her in my arms, and eating the best crap pizza we can find. I’m completely at peace with this woman, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Addison

“What the fuck man? Where’ve you been?” Halloway asks me, looking angry and concerned. He takes a pull back on his beer and sets it down, heavy against the bar.

“Been busy,” I say, staring at the television screen in the top corner of the room. The juke box is blasting Rolling Stones’ “Can You Hear Me Knocking,” and I just can’t stop thinking about how Helena might dance to this song, how she might place that ass of hers across my lap, all sultry and cute.

“Come on,” he sighs. “Tell me the truth. You’ve been locked away with Helena for days. When you going to have some time for a brother?”

I nod and look down at him. “I’m sorry, man. I’m here aren’t I? Isn’t that good enough?” I ask him. He nods and calms down a little. After all, he’s just a little drunk and oversensitive. Just a typical Navy boy, cryin’ all the time about his problems.

“Yeah,” he says. “It’s all good. I’ve just been havin’ women problems is all.”

“Shit,” I laugh. “That tends to happen every now and then.”

“Pfft,” he laughs. “Like you know. Everything’s going peachy in your life.”

I shrug. “I mean, now it is. We’ll see how long that’ll last. I tend to fuck these things up.”

“Well, if you think like that you most definitely will,” he says. I know he’s right. Truth is, I’m feeling confident about this whole thing with Helena. The only reason I’m here is to be a better friend to Halloway. Plus, Helena is out at one of those PTA meetings they have every now and then, so it’s not like I have anything else I can really do.

“What’s up with you? How’s that Judy woman?” I ask him, motioning at the server for another Coors.

“She’s good.” He nods. “But that’s just the thing. I’m not sure how long it’s going to last.”

“What do you mean?” I ask. I look into my wallet and realize I only have forty bucks to my name. If I’m going to survive with Helena, I’m going to need to go back to work. The thought of doing that makes me sick to my stomach.

“I just mean that Judy’s an insane woman,” he says, laughing and shaking his head.

“Well, that’s good right?” I laugh with him. “You’re an insane man. Seems like two peas in a fucking pod, if you ask me.”

“Well, you got me there, brother.” His laugh is scratchy and long, from years of talking too harsh and drinking way too much. “But, I’m not sure if we really like each other, you know?”

“Lay it on me,” I tell him. “I don’t know, but I’m sure I can empathize.”

“The sex is great. Don’t get me wrong. The sex is like a higher level,” he keeps laughing. “Thinking about living a life without fucking her is pretty much impossible at this point. But, man, she’s fucking boring. I’ll say it right now, and I know it sounds a little harsh, but I just tune out every time she starts speaking.”

“That’s pretty harsh,” I agree.

“Now don’t get too soft on me here,” he says. “I can tell she does the same when she’s with me. I talk about my hopes and fears, and I swear she’s in another world, thinking about mathematics, or whatever it is she’s teaching.”

I sigh and place my hands on the table. “Just break up with her,” I say. “If you don’t like her, what’re you doing?”

“The. Sex,” he repeats. “How many times do I gotta tell you?”

“I gotta be real with you,” I tell him. “I think that Judy woman is not a person to mess with. I think she wants something real and deep. Anyway, that’s what she’s tellin’ Helena.”

“She’s at that age, huh?” His smile fades away and he starts analyzing the grooves in the tiles, on the floor.

“I guess,” I shrug.

“I know it sounds insane, but I don’t think I ever want to settle down. I mean, you and Helena, do what God wants you to do. But, as for me, I think I’m better off alone,” he says. I glance away from him and he notices that I don’t know what to say.

“Don’t get all weird, now,” he says. “It’s not a bad thing. It’s a good thing. I like being alone. I like women. I can’t be with just one thing. That’s always been me. You know that.”

“Yeah.” I nod. “I guess I do.”

“I’m going to end it,” he says, nodding. It’s a revelation for him. I can tell. And I’m glad I could at least help him figure this all out for himself. “Yeah, I think it’s time.”

“Anyway,” he continues. “I think that principal at that school wants to bang her. He keeps calling her about assignments. I thought he was a fucking dweeb until I saw the way she talks to him. She laughs at all his dumb jokes. It’s crazy.”

“I’m sorry, man. I’ve always got your back,” I say. There’s not much else to say, to be honest. He’s made his decision and he seems quite content with it.

“I’ve got my eyes on that woman, right there,” he points to this young, blonde in the back corner talking to her friends. “So, I don’t really care who Judy ends up with. I’d rather she be happy with someone else than bored with a guy like me.”

“True, true,” I say, finishing the last of my second beer.

I can’t stop thinking about Helena. I still have her perfume smell around my lips. I can still taste her. Even when I’m far from her, she’s still right beside me. It pains me, and that’s not how Halloway feels about Judy at all. It gives me comfort and reassurance. I want her more than anything, and I’m going to make it official. I’m going to propose to that woman and make her mine forever. Us forever.

Helena

Judy can’t control herself. She’s feeling so giddy about things. “You can’t be serious?” she laughs and touches my shoulder. “Kneeves?”

“What, you don’t like him?” I ask her.

She takes a second to think about the question and glances over in his direction. He immediately looks away, caught in the act. Currently, we’re in the school cafeteria, eating amongst the students, at a separate table. I have to say, I do feel like I’m in 7th grade again and it’s starting to feel a bit weird…

“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “He’s a nice guy. I guess I’ve never thought about him like that before. He’s not ugly, I guess.”

“He’s not ugly,” I repeat, laughing a little. Such a nice phrase from Judy.

“Sorry.” She takes a bite from her sandwich and sets it back down. “God, I can barely even eat anything. He knows I’m dating Halloway, right?”

“Yeah, he knows,” I say. “But you were just saying how much you want to get out of that relationship. Why are you being weird about it now? Are things going that good with him?”

“No. It’s shit, but the sex is great,” she says. “How can I really give that up?”

“Easy,” I laugh. “You fuck one more time and leave it at that. You can’t have everything forever, can you?”

She looks up at the ceiling and stares for a second, finishing as much of her food as she can. The whole thing is weird, playing matchmaker like this, and really I’m only doing it to solidify a better spot at the school. Now that Kneeves has put me in this position, if I don’t come through, he’s going to resent me forever. So, I guess I have to do what I have to do.

“Yeah, but going out with your boss? That just seems… wrong,” she says. “I don’t know. And it’s weird that he wouldn’t just come over here and take charge. I mean, I typically like a guy who takes charge. Don’t you?”

“Well, yeah,” I say, not able to disagree with what she’s saying.

“Like, I always thought I’d end up with a big, strong guy. Someone with swagger, confidence, and a heart of gold,” she laughs. “A total badass who adores me. That’s what I want.”

“You can’t have everything,” I sigh.

“You do,” she says, half-annoyed with me.

“Who? Addison?” I ask her. “Addison is…” I stop speaking, because I know she’s right. Addison is the real deal. He’s got a perfect body, he’s nice to me, but he’s got that hard edge that women kill for. Plus, he’s served and done his time, and he’s moved on from it. That’s really rare to find in a guy.

“Yeah, exactly. You know he’s perfect,” she says. Her eyes close for a second, before she takes a big breath. Then, after some careful consideration, she announces, “You know, why not? Fred is a good guy, right? He’s got a steady career, he’s probably not an alcoholic, and he’s, well… at least he’s normal, right?”

“Right,” I say, watching her every reaction. She starts to feel more pleased by this reality and continues.

“Yeah, I guess I should give the guy a chance. The worst that could happen is it doesn’t go smoothly and we part ways,” she says. “I’m going to do it.”

“You’re going to do it?” I repeat. “Did I hear that right?”

“I’m going to do it,” she says. “I’m going to go up to him right now and ask him out. This is his chance. If he falters and fumbles, then he won’t get another.”

“And Halloway?” I ask her, laughing a little from the absurdity of the situation.

“Halloway can shove it,” she says, standing up. “You don’t think I know he peruses the bars for new pussy every other night? He’s a hound dog, which is part of the reason why I liked him so much. In the end, it’s a bit too harmful for my heart.”

She walks over to Fred Kneeves and sits next to him, smiling. I watch as they talk for a while and it seems like it actually is going pretty okay. Fred is remarkably calm and I can tell he feels good about himself right now because he touches her arm and she doesn’t recoil. I hear enough to realize that they’ve decided on a date. This is actually going to happen.

When she comes back over, she’s rocking her hips with a new burst of excitement. “I did it,” she squeals. “I asked him out.”

“Good on you, girl,” I laugh. “What’re you doing?”

“Bar and then his place,” she says confidently. “You know, he wasn’t as weird as I thought he would be.” She takes another breath of the air around us, as if it’s fresh and new.

“Glad I could be of service,” I say, feeling bored of the school-cafeteria girl talk. I have three more periods until class is over, and then an hour of after-school stuff I have to take care of. And then I’m completely free, back in Addison’s grip once again.

* * *

“As you can see, this important piece of literature is a radical shift in human…” I’m droning on about Beowulf and the kids are practically falling asleep. I’m right there with them, counting down the hours until I can leave. It’s so close and I can’t wait any longer. This job is killing me, now that I’ve found happiness in him.

He texts me after the bell rings and I’m in class, teaching the kids about the classics. “Send me a picture of the panties you’re wearing.”

The text is completely out of the blue and when I see it, I turn dark red, and stumble across every single word. “The knight in this story… this, uh, this, excuse me…” I sit down at my desk and take a deep breath as the kids start laughing at me.

I continue speaking, telling the students to settle down. Only, underneath my desk, my legs are spread open and I’m glancing down at my light-blue panties, the ones with the tulip in the center. “I’m in class,” I text him. “And you’re a pervert.”

“Damn right, I am. I live for that pussy. I want to make you wet, every single second of the day,” he types. My throat tightens as I gulp down, and again I’m struggling to keep the class attentive.

“Now, show me that cunt,” he writes.

“Oh my God!” I text him. The vulgarity, I have to admit, turns me on. It shouldn’t, but it does, and now I’m feeling like kicking every last student out of the class so he can drive his truck over here and fuck my brains out.

“Do it,” he says.

I don’t object. I do what he asks. I unlock my phone and point the camera down at the center of my legs. I spread myself open and take a picture. I send it and wait for him, as I tell the class, “In this very old style of the English language, the word means deer, or…”

I wait for his response and it comes pretty fucking fast. “I want it in my mouth, so fucking bad,” he says. Then he types some more. I can feel my heart beating, pounding, against my sternum. “I want to mount you against that desk again. I want to take you against that whiteboard.”

“Of course you do, you dirty bastard,” I text him back.

“Spread those panties aside for me,” he says. “And don’t say you can’t do it. I know full well that you can.”

I imagine him at home, completely naked and sitting against the kitchen counter, while looking at his phone eagerly. I imagine his cock growing with each sentence that he types, until it’s harder than ever. I can’t stop thinking about him stroking his cock, feeling the girth and hard bone extending into the void, just waiting and aching for my dripping pussy. He’s thirsting for it and I can’t deny that I am too.

I pull aside my panties under my desk as the kids fidget in their seats. This is so wrong, but I’m safe under there. I snap a quick photo and send it his way and he responds with a video, only one minute later. “I’m fucking cumming,” he says.

I open the video, making sure the sound is completely off. I see his cock instantly, as hard as it was in my daydreams. It’s shining with his spit and he’s rolling his palm across each end. It grows and grows, until it practically bursts. Cum shoots across his hard stomach and it doesn’t stop for at least 10 seconds. When he’s finished, he pulls on it some more and the video stops.

Needless to say, I’m left dying. “Leaving right after class,” I tell him. “I need that inside of me.”

Addison

She sits on my cock like it’s the edge of her throne. She edges her back against me as I wrap my hands around her waist, squeezing the excess flesh around her hipbone. She arches her back and cums for the millionth time, quaking for me, as I spin her around, onto her back.

She lies there and has that pleasured look on her face, as she whispers, “I love you so much, Addison.”

I never get tired of hearing her say that and it only solidifies my position on everything. “I love you too,” I whisper and kiss her lips, biting down lightly against the bottom one. I cum inside her and push my body forward, holding her as close as I fucking can.

“Jesus,” she sighs with satisfaction. “I can’t get enough of you.”

The other day I made a huge decision. I decided that I’m going to marry her. Not only that, I took a loan out to get a small shop downtown. I’ve put practically everything on the line for her now and I don’t regret it at all. I just hope it’s what she really wants.

It’s a gamble, but I’m willing to take it for her. I’ve got a ring in my room, in the bottom of my drawer, and it’s one solid rock of beauty, fit for a queen like her. Either she’ll love it or she’ll reject me forever.

“You really like me that much?” I ask her.

“I do,” she smiles and gazes into my eyes longingly.

It’s gone so far at this point. I’m ready to ask her. I’m shaking as I look at my drawer, despite the fact that I know this is what I want. How I’m going to do it, I still need to plan out.

And then I get a call from Halloway.

“Oh shit,” she sighs.

“Kneeves?” I ask her. She nods.

“She went out with him tonight. She’s probably still at his place now,” she says, looking frantic.

I answer the phone and Halloway is freaking out, screaming at me like I did something wrong. “You motherfucker!” he screams. “How could you?”

He’s drunk and clearly looking for a fight, as usual. “Whoa, whoa. Settle down,” I say. “What’s wrong? What’re you talking about?”

“You set me up!” he screams and in the receiver, I can hear him punch something. It knocks against the floor and crashes. “I thought we were brothers. I thought we were friends for life.”

“We’re brothers. Calm the fuck down,” I say, glancing at Helena. She looks concerned and I nod carefully, trying my best to calm the man down.

“That principal,” he growls. “That little douchebag from the school. Know what I’m talkin’ about now?”

I exhale and close my eyes. This is beyond me. This has nothing to do with me whatsoever. “Big deal,” I tell him. “Quit being such a baby, Halloway.”

“You’re calling me names now? Me? The man who protected your ass when you were running across a mortar-heavy zone? The man who took out that sniper for you? Me?!”

I try not to laugh because it’s so obvious those days are over. The days he protected me were different. The only threats he experiences every day are little disturbances like this. He’s more of a danger to himself than anyone.

“Look, man. You know I have your back, always. But you need to start being real with yourself,” I tell him. “The other day you told me you didn’t give a damn about Judy. Now you’re over here, crying like a baby. I don’t get it. What’s changed?”

“You believe every word I say?” he asks, breathing heavily. I hear him sit down and cough. “Maybe I don’t tell you everything for a reason. Because you got that little girl with you all of the time, breathing down your neck.”

I glance at Helena who turns her head in embarrassment. Her cheeks turn flush with anger and I know I’m going to have to try and fix that too, all because Halloway is being overdramatic about a woman he doesn’t even really like.

“Don’t you do it, man. I’m warning you. Don’t you fucking call her names,” I say.

“She’s a bitch,” he whispers. He does it in a way that tells me he regrets saying it almost immediately. Yet, he says it and he doesn’t offer an apology. I sit in shock for a brief moment and hang up the phone, without saying a word.

“I’ve got to go,” I tell her, ignoring the whole thought of my marriage proposal. That can wait. This, I have to deal with right fucking now.

“Please don’t leave,” she says, knowing what’s going to happen.

I stop for a second to look at her. Does she really mean it? Does she really want me to stay? And if so, how the hell can she respect a man who doesn’t stand up for her? I can’t do it. I take one look at her and see those tears roll down from her eyes, and I can’t let her be in pain like that. She knows what she was just called. She even knows that Halloway is just some drunk asshole. Even with all that knowledge, it still hurts, and she knows that he’s my friend. If I don’t leave here now and do what I have to do, she’ll never look at me the same.

“I’m sorry,” I say, storming out of the house. “I have to go. Stay here. I’ll be back.”

She runs out of the house after me, grabbing my arm. I keep walking. “Stop!” she screams. “Addison, you don’t have to do this!”

I get in the car and turn the keys. “That’s the thing,” I mutter. “I do have to do this. I have to do this more than you know. I love you. He can’t disrespect you.”

I drive with pure disgust and testosterone-fueled rage. Sometimes all it takes is one small word for someone to be dead to you, and Halloway achieved that pretty damn fast.

I get to his house, peeling in his driveway. Dust flies up all around the vehicle. I jump out before I can even put the car in park. “Halloway!” I scream, completely sober with adrenaline. “Come out here! Halloway!”

I see him stumble in the window. He opens the door and stands on his porch, hunched and ready for me. He’s flexing his fists, gripping a bottle. “What do you want from me? Huh? You want to ruin my shit life even more?!”

Part of me knows how bad this all looks. Part of me knows that this is all pointless. At the same time, I feel within my heart that I need to show him some manners. “Apologize and we’ll be done here,” I tell him. “That’s all I need from you. One apology.”

“Fuck you,” he spits onto the dirt and takes two steps down from his porch. He waits for my next move, like a pawn on a chessboard.

“Say you’re sorry, man. Come on. It ain’t hard,” I warn him. “You don’t want what’s coming if you don’t.”

He laughs hard and deep, showing his edged teeth. “You kidding me, Addison? You hurt me? You know I’m bigger than you. Stronger. You know I saved your ass a million times over back in the day, when things were real.”

“You have to stop romanticizing the past, Halloway. It’s not good for you. Those days are over and I’m glad they’re done,” I tell him, stepping forward myself. “I’ll never be that person again and neither will you. It’s time to face the facts. I may be smaller than you. Shit, you may be stronger physically. But if you come at me… if you say one word about my girl again, I’ll bring hellfire on you. I’ll come down like Thor on your ass.”

“Who gives a fuck about her?” he asks me. “She’s just some fish in the sea, right? That’s what women are. Just another fish to catch. Ain’t no thing. She’s a bitch and she’s ruined my relationship. And look at what you do. You just keep backin’ her up.”

I start to walk forward, getting fairly close to him. His chest is heaving up and down. In his hands is that empty beer bottle and I want to find a way to get it out of there. You can’t come at someone with an extra weapon in hand. That just isn’t fair game, but Halloway isn’t playing by the rules anymore. He doesn’t care one bit.

“Set the bottle down and shut your mouth,” I say.

“Go fuck yourself,” he smiles, holding the bottle back from me. He swings it down and I feel the air from it whip against my face. “Ha! You like that? You still want to come at me?”

“Put the bottle down,” I repeat. “You think that’s a fair fight?”

“Fair? You want to talk about fair with me? Fair would be you stayin’ out of my relationship business. Fair would be for you to fuck right off,” he says, still smiling, eyes looking lazy and drunken.

I exhale slowly and keep my eyes aimed at his hands. “I get it now. You’re too scared. I get that. I guess this is just how it has to be.”

“I guess so,” he laughs.

We’re at a standstill, until headlights zoom around the corner. It’s Helena, but in the car are two other figures, Kneeves and Judy. Halloway turns his head and his jaw drops. I take the only opportunity I have. I kick upward, knocking the beer bottle out of his hand. It hits the dirt and rolls away, out of sight, and I hit him straight across the temple.

He makes a “Oo!” sound as he hits the dirt, nearly knocked out cold. But the man is a fighter. I’ve known that all my life. He’s not backing down now. He rolls and picks himself back off the ground, as I hold my fists in front of my face, waiting for him to attack. He’s hurt and he’s not seeing straight, but that doesn’t stop him from attacking.

He jumps at me, tackling me like a football player. I feel my ass and spine hit the ground. I’m not drunk enough to ignore the pain. It fucking hurts. Not to mention, I still have some bruising on my body from the other night.

Now, all of the people in the car come running toward us. It’s another embarrassing fight I’ve forced myself into, but do they think I’m really going to stop swinging and let him decimate me? Hell no. He called Helena a bitch. Someone needs to let him know how wrong he is.

Helena is running toward us, screaming, “Stop!” She’s practically crying. She grabs my shoulder, but ducks out of the way when Halloway swings his fist downward, connecting with my gut. He swings again and I feel my jaw lurch. He’s got me good and now Helena is pissed. She’s pissed at me for coming here and she’s pissed at Halloway for egging me on. I hear her mutter, “Get him,” and it gives me some energy back.

He hits me again in the stomach and all of the air from my lungs is forced out of me. I’m seeing black stars, but I manage to duck my legs behind his. He trips and falls backward and now I’m swinging. I’m swinging as hard as I can. I hit him in the chest, in the stomach, in the face. I keep on going at him, until he’s done.

His palms come up and he whispers, “Alright, alright. Jesus Christ.”

“You done?” I ask him. Helena’s arms come around me to pull me back and I acquiesce.

“What’s happening here?” Kneeves asks. We both ignore him.

“I’m done,” Halloway heaves, his body still against the dirt. “But fuck you all.”

Judy comes forward now and just stands there. Finally, she works up the courage to say, “I’m sorry. Whatever I did, I am sorry.”

Halloway groans and moves away from all of us. “It’s none of your fault,” he says, looking at the trees around us. “It’s mine. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Meanwhile, Helena is furious with me for acting out. “I don’t know who you are. Where did my Addison go?”

The thought that I’m not the man she thought I was brings tears to my eyes. I’m not a bastard. I’m not a terrible person. I’m a human who can’t take when people try to walk over him. “I was trying to protect you,” I mutter, knowing that it won’t change a thing. “He acted out of bounds. He had no right.”

“You ignore him,” she says. She’s got more tears in her eyes and I reach out to wipe them away, but she simply knocks my hand aside. “Don’t. You don’t care about me. You care about how you’re feeling. This wasn’t about me. This was about your pride. Admit it.”

“It was about you,” I try and tell her. “It was about how you might view me for not defending your name.”

“I can’t do this,” she says, turning around and marching back to her car. “Judy, come with me. Kneeves.” She gestures toward her car and all three angrily get inside and leave the scene.

I’m stuck here with Halloway now, in complete shock. He just starts laughing. “So I guess we’re stuck with each other again,” he laughs. “Want to arm wrestle it out or something?”

“Give me a beer,” I say, shaking my head.

“Sure thing,” he says.

* * *

“I’m sorry,” he finally says the words. “Alright? You happy? I’m an asshole. You shouldn’t have a friend like me. You deserve better.”

“What I want is a friend who backs me and my girl up. She’s not a bitch and you know it. She’s a good, wholesome person. She’s pure. And I fucking love her from the bottom of my heart,” I say. “And if you’re not okay with that, you can’t be my friend anymore. Plain and simple. Because I’m going to marry her.”

“You’re what?” he asks, stunned.

“You heard me,” I stare him straight in the eyes. “I’m going to marry that woman.”

“Like hell you are,” he laughs. “She ran away from you fast, man.” He sits in silence for a second and I have to chuckle a little at the whole situation.

“We’re a couple of children, aren’t we?” I ask him. “Look at us. Look at our faces. We look fucked up.”

“I feel fucked up, man. I’m getting too old to be fighting. Honestly, I didn’t think I’d start feeling it until I hit forty, but it hurts more than it did five years ago,” he says. “You know I always have your back, right?”

“I hope you do.” I nod. “But people change. Just because you’re on my side now, doesn’t mean you’ll always be.”

“True,” he says. “Well, I think you have to marry that woman, and you have all my support. I’m an asshole. If there’s one thing I’m good at in this life, it’s being an asshole. But I understand you getting married. I just wish I could get my own shit together.”

“You will. Someday, at least,” I assure him. There’s a hopeful gleam in his eye, but that fades soon enough.

“I don’t know, man. The marriage thing… I don’t think I’d be too good at that. Besides, the whole idea kind of makes my stomach turn. I can barely handle my own thoughts, let alone someone else’s for forty-plus years. I envy you,” he says.

“Well, there aren’t any rules to this life. That’s some consolation, I hope. You should do whatever makes you happy,” I tell him, standing up.

He gets up with me and sighs. “Yeah. You’re right. I should tell Judy that I’m sorry. She deserves that nerd she’s with now. I never really wanted her back in the first place. Just got angry is all,” he says. He gives me a hug and a pound on the back. “You got a ring?”

“Hell yeah, I do,” I laugh, pulling out my phone. I show him the picture of the ring that I bought.

“You spent all your fucking money on this woman, didn’t you?”

I bear a guilty look on my face and smile. “You know I did,” I say. “Took out a loan too. Got myself a shop nearby. I’ll have a home base that’s not my actual home for once.”

“Shit, man. You’re going crazy, for sure,” he says. “That’s great. Really, I’m happy for you.”

“Don’t be happy for me. You’re going to come work for me. I’ve already filled out your application. You’re hired,” I say.

He does a double take and a big smile comes on his face. “You’re joking me. You’re joking me! Wait, are you really serious, man?”

“Dead serious. Come work for me. I’ll pay you well. Double the minimum once the shop really gets going. I was making decent money without it. I think I’ll make more now that I’ve got a real office,” I say, knocking my feet against the ground.

“Fuck!” he exclaims. “Let’s do it! Man, I can’t believe it. We’ll be partners again.”

All in all, that’s what it’s about. The camaraderie we had back in the day was strong. “Hell yeah we will,” I laugh. “Brothers for life.”

“Brothers for life,” he says with a smile. “Well, shit. What’re you waiting for? You have to propose to Helena.”

He’s right, and I’ve got just the plan.

Helena

“Fuck him,” Judy says. “Fuck both of them, right up their…”

“Keep your voice down. We’re at school,” I find myself saying. Judy looks at me, pissed off.

“Well, I agree with Judy,” Kneeves says, standing up.

“Of course you do, Fred,” I roll my eyes. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t get laid.” Kneeves sits down and doesn’t even protest, since he knows I’m one hundred percent correct on that assumption.

“Look,” I say, standing up. “It doesn’t even matter. I’m pissed, but that’s sort of the last straw, right? Why are we even talking about it right now? I mean, Judy, was your date not going well so far or something?”

She turns pink and silent, but I can tell they were hitting it off pretty well. “Okay, good,” I say. “So fuck Halloway and fuck Addison. There, we’re done.”

But deep in my heart, the pain is swelling up by the minute. I can’t stop thinking about every single night spent with him, every single inch of him inside me, and the way he held me against his chest at night. I can’t stop thinking about all the fun we’ve had and the memories we’ve begun to create. When I really sit down and process what this means, I feel sick to my fucking stomach.

I instinctually make an exasperated noise and slump down in my seat. There’s no way I can teach class today, but I have to. I have so much shit to take care of and then Addison had to ruin everything with one bout of masculine anger.

Judy sees that I’m hurting and moves toward me. She places her hand on my shoulder and squeezes down. I breathe out and groan. “You okay, sweetie?” she asks.

“No,” I admit. I feel like I’m about to cry. I feel the emotions ripping through my stomach, all the way to the backs of my neck. There isn’t a part of me that is okay right now. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. Can someone please tell me what the fuck I am doing?”

“You’re going through a breakup,” she says. “It’ll be okay. You have us.”

“If you need anything,” Fred says, “and I mean anything, just let me know. You need a week off, that’s fine. We’ll get a substitute.”

I lose it. I break down in tears. It’s so fucking embarrassing, but I can’t hold it back. It all hurts so much. “Why am I here? In Canton of all places… God, I’m so fucked. This is all so fucked.”

“Hey, Canton isn’t that bad,” Judy says, glancing over at Fred.

“I know. I’m sorry,” I say. “But now I’m stuck here. With him. And I sure as hell don’t want to be. What’s going to happen when I run into him? I’m going to be a mess.”

“Things turn around. They always do,” Fred offers his crap words of wisdom to me. Great. Things turn around. Not really what I need right now, but okay…

Judy can sense my frustration. She’s a woman and understands that we need some tender advice every now and then. “He’s a motherfucker,” she says, stone cold. “And you’re a goddess who deserves to fly as high as she can. You’re a jewel in the sand, an oasis in the desert, a—”

“Thank you,” I cut her off. “I’m not, but thank you for being sweet to me. I need to take a few moments I think. I’ll finish out the day, but I need like thirty minutes to cool down.”

“You’re going home,” Fred says. “You’re not going to teach the students in this condition. If this were me, I’d be drowning in a bottle of scotch in my bedroom. Trust me, I get it. Go home. Get some rest. You’ll come in when you need to.”

I don’t know what to say. They’re both being so nice to me that it’s hard to give the right thanks back to them. “Thank you,” is what I manage to get out, and it seems to be okay for the time being.

* * *

I grab that bottle of scotch that Kneeves mentioned in his office, and I head home, driving slow and admiring the scenery. It’s a really beautiful town. I shouldn’t hate on it. It’s just that it’s hard now, with Addison being so nearby me, literally all of the time. The man never leaves and neither do I.

I cry a little every now and then, but when I’m inside my home, I drink quick enough to feel the pain go away in minutes. Soon enough, I’m turning on my old radio and dancing to old 80s pop songs in my bedroom. “I want to dance with somebody,” Whitney Houston sings, and I’m right there in her shoes, feeling good about myself again.

Addison can fight and drink, or do whatever his heart pushes him to do. He can do all that without me. Because I want a man that protects me when I really need protection. I want a man who’s not going to lose his shit and act on his primal impulses 24/7. I’m sorry, but I want a man who can dedicate his time and life to me. Clearly, he has some issues he still needs to work on.

I haven’t checked my phone in hours, but when I do, I know something bad is going to be there on my screen. Can you ever go through a breakup without the man texting you a bazillion times? Well, the answer is a clear no, because when I check, there’s about four.

“You there?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Helena, I’m really fucking sorry. Please answer me. Call me. Anything. I need to hear your voice.”

“I need to feel you again.”

The last one is a real winner. The problem is, I feel the same way. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be sorry, but I am. I don’t get it. It’s like I internally feel the guilt he should be feeling. Who knows? Maybe he’s really sorry too, and it’s not just some fake game he’s playing. I want to believe it.

“I need to hear your voice.” It’s true. I do too. I want to hear his voice. I want to feel his breath whisper against my ear and tickle around my neck. I want to feel the electricity again. I want to feel him around me. I want that feeling I got when he got hard just looking at me. And I need to feel him inside of me again. I hate that I do, but I do.

I grab my phone and text him. “Why don’t you ever listen? You were doing so well. We were doing so well.”

He calls me immediately and I answer after a few rings. “What?” I ask, harshly.

“You’re right,” he says, calmly. “I don’t listen. I need to be better. I need to be a better listener.”

“It’s not just that,” I say.

“Then tell me everything that it is and I’ll change,” he says. “Helena, I don’t want to be without you. This, us, was perfection. It was like living in heaven.”

“It was like living in a fantasy world,” I say. “We didn’t know what we were doing. We got into something we couldn’t get out of. Do you know how different we are?”

“Not that different,” he says. “We share the same values.”

“No we don’t,” I groan. “We’re incredibly different. You’re a navy SEAL macho-man, small town guy, and I’m a teacher from New York, who hates fighting and war, and all of that bullshit. We just don’t work together. This was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“You said that before and we got through it,” he says. “We can work through this. I swear to you. I want to change. I’m learning. Help me learn. Please.”

“Addison…” I sigh, feeling hopeless. “Oh, Addison. I don’t know what’s happened, but it feels so weird and different now. Don’t you agree?”

“I do,” he says. “But I know that I love you more than I ever have.”

“Just because you can’t have me,” I say. “That’s the only reason.”

“No,” he stands firm on this. “My love grows for you every single day, regardless of whether you’re with me or not.”

“Creepy,” I groan.

“Whatever. It’s the truth. I’m sorry if you think I’m a creep or a macho-man-asshole, or whatever. I’m sorry I gave you that impression of me. I promise that I’m better than that. I’m a complex human with some shortcomings, but I work on myself every day to be the right man for you. I’ll keep doing that,” he says. “I want to keep doing that. Don’t make me stop.”

I hate that it’s this way now. I hate that there are barriers we’ve built around our hearts. I hate that we judge each other harshly or that we both overreact. “It was easier when we first met,” I say. “Much easier. What happened?”

“Life happened,” he says. “It always happens, especially if you really love the person. Things get hard and then they get easy. Then you have kids and the whole thing gets harder than ever. That’s just the struggle of love. It wouldn’t be so incredible if you didn’t have to work for it.”

I laugh, despite that not being the appropriate response. I keep laughing for so long that he chuckles back, awkwardly. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I just don’t get it. You always know exactly what to say. I hate you for that.”

“I love you,” he says. “It comes from the heart.”

“I’m coming over,” I say. Despite being angry with him, I think I always knew I’d end up giving into him. I think all I really wanted from him was for him to tell me he cares to try, and that he was willing to give his all for this. In the end, he’s nothing like Halloway, or most guys I’ve been with. He’s Addison. He’s unique, he’s pure, he’s fragile, and yet he’s the strongest man I’ve ever seen. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted, and I’ll love him forever.

“Thank God,” he says into the receiver. He laughs and I say, “See you soon.”

I smile and wipe the small tears from my face. I’m going back to my man.

Addison

I wait for her on my porch, heart beating and palms sweating. I’m pacing back and forth, and I want to chug a case full of beer just so I can calm my nerves down a little bit. The whole thing is just heart-wrenching. This love business is fucking hard. It’s harder than any fight, than taking any city, but it’s worth it when it all comes back together. Those moments are the times I live for. It feels like winning. It feels like truth.

When I see her car pull up, it all comes flooding back to me. That day that I met her, when she nearly broke my leg from her bike… I miss that, but I know that I’ll miss these times even more. It all comes around in a circle of memories. I can’t wait to keep building and turning it, until our kids grow old and find solace in someone else. It just keeps on spinning, doesn’t it?

“Helena,” I say, out of breath, even though I’m just standing there, watching her. “I’m so fucking happy you’re here.”

She stays silent, her eyes bulging with tears. I feel her light arms wrap around my neck and we both pull in close, shielding ourselves from the cold world and those cold emotions we’ve been storing. “I love you, Addison,” she finally whispers into the night. “I love you so much. I’m sorry that I threw you away that easily. I feel so guilty.”

I pull off her just so I can look into those beautiful eyes of hers and tell her my piece. “I’m sorry too. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were just angry with me for acting out so violently. It won’t happen again,” I say. “Anyway, I’ve got something that I want to show you.”

“What is it?” she asks. I want to kiss her so bad, but I’m sick to my stomach with excitement and fear.

I pull a picture out of my pocket and try my best to smooth it out. I show it to her under my porch light and her cold, white breath shines against the edges. “An office space? I’m confused. What is this?” she asks.

I laugh and tell her my crazy plan. “I want to be serious with you. I want to make this all real. I took out a loan,” I say. “I’m starting a real business and I want you to help me.”

“Are you serious?” she asks me, smiling. “Addison, are you crazy? How much money do you owe?”

“It doesn’t matter. None of that matters. I can pay it back someday,” I say. “Look, you can still teach if you want. But if you don’t want to, we can work together and thrive. We can save to buy a new place.”

She doesn’t know what to say. She’s worried that this is too rash of a move. Sometimes, though, you have to make some rash decisions. This is one of them.

I get down on one knee. I reach into my coat pocket and glance down at her boots. I grab the ring box and hold it in front of me. “Oh, Addison,” she whispers. The air is cold and the night is silent. There’s not a bird or cricket, or rustling critter, in sight or earshot.

“Be with me. Be my wife,” I say. “I’m not askin’. I’m practically begging.”

“I—” she stops.

“I’ll never meet a girl like you. Never. I don’t want to let this chance slip by. I swear, you coming to this small town was a sign. It was a sign that I had to get my shit together and that it was time to settle down. It’s time for a change,” I say. “I’m ready for the next big step. I’m ready to make that transformation.”

She gulps down and looks at me, shaking. She holds her palm to my cheek and kneels down on the cold wood porch. She kisses me soft and sweet, running her fingers up, through my hair. “You know the answer is yes, right?” she whispers. “It’s a big hell yes.”

I put that ring on her hand. That big, sparkling, diamond ring. She looks at it and smiles, her teeth white as snow. I kiss her hard. Fast. I kiss her and touch every part of her body. “God, I was hoping you’d say that,” I laugh.

She sucks on my bottom lip and breathes in hard through her nose. “We’re meant for each other. I feel like it’s destiny, or like fate. Maybe that sounds corny, but—”

“It doesn’t sound corny,” I say. “It’s the truth. No one has ever made me feel what you make me feel.”

“I can really quit my job?” she asks me. “You really want me to work with you? You’d be around me every day, Addison. You can handle that?”

“I just asked you to spend the rest of your life with me,” I laugh. “I know I can handle that.”

“You’re poor as hell, aren’t you?” she laughs with me. “You took out all your money for this, didn’t you?”

I shrug and pick her up into my arms, carrying her inside. “Yep. Sure did,” I say. “You think I care about money?”

“Oh jeez,” she squints her eyes. “Addison, you’re insane. But the crazier you are, the more I want you.”

“You know how to repay me,” I say. “You know what I need.” My smiles grows bigger, my cock does too.

I sit her down on the kitchen counter and start making out with her, harder than before. She’s breathing wildly. I put my hand against her tits and I can feel her strong and rapid heart beating for dear life. “Yes,” she whispers. “I know what you need and deserve.”

She unbuckles my belt and rips it through the loops. My pants come down around my ankles. I reach up through her skirt and feel her panties, now wet with desire for me. I pull them to the side, tearing the small ends, and I place two flat fingers against her wetness, spreading that same desire all over her hole.

I’m going to make this quick and hard. And then after that, I’m going to go again, and again, until we’re both on the verge of losing our lives from heart attacks. I grab hold of my cock and thrust it inside her. Her head falls back with pleasure and she moans, high-pitched and pretty. “Yes!” she screams. “Deeper!”

I grab her wrists and force her arms behind her back. I thrust forward again. I push my forehead against her forehead and we’re suddenly staring at each other’s eyes, longingly. I thrust faster now and spit down on her wet cunt. She’s smiling now, like a little deviant woman. My wife. She wants me to play dirty. She wants me to cum.

I push forward, shaking the whole fucking table. I let go of her wrists when I feel bonded to her. I close my eyes and feel my soul swell up inside of me, ready to spring forth, through me. I keep myself inside, holding my cock in, pushing until I’m as far as I can possibly go. My body grows alert and sensitive to all stimuli. I hear a slight moan and squeal from the back of her throat and I decide I can’t hold it in any longer.

It comes in waves of complete satisfaction and pleasure. I cum inside her. I let it all out. Her hands come forward, cupping my balls as they ascend. My front door swings open from a gust of cold wind and suddenly, we’re in the depths of winter, free and still. She smiles and arches her head forward, so cute and happy. Kissing my lips, she falls against me and I hold her, light and steady, bringing her to my bedroom.

We collapse onto the bed and she runs her hand across my chest. “Let’s be lovers forever,” she says.

“Forever and ever.” I smile. “Until I’m old and walking with a cane.”

“I really can’t wait to see that,” she laughs. “I can’t even imagine it.” She looks me up and down, playing with the tight skin rippling around my stomach.

Really, there’s so much we can do and achieve when we are together. I know that this will be everything, even if we’re stuck in this small town. “By the way,” I laugh a little. “Halloway is going to work for the company too.”

She pushes her hand down, shoving me back. “Halloway?” she repeats.

“Yeah, and, uh, he’s going to be my best man.” I chuckle some more to lighten up the mood.

“Well, I was thinking Judy might be my bridesmaid,” she bites her lip.

“He’ll be on his best behavior,” I tell her. “I promise.”

“You know what? I don’t care what happens as long as I’m with you,” she says. “As long as we’re together.”

* * *

I hold her in my arms tonight, but I don’t go to sleep. I don’t have that tired feeling in my soul right now, at least not yet. I keep glancing at the window as some small flakes begin to fall. I’m just so… I think astonished is the right world. Grateful too. I can’t believe all the roads that I took in my insane life have led me to her. I can’t believe that, even with all the war trauma and hard nights being alone in a small town, I still found the brightest light in all the world. I found her and she’s with me now, forever.

She’s asleep with that ring on her finger. And that means, I have to hold myself accountable and give her everything that I can to lift her up, even when I’m feeling down. I cup her ass in my hands, and yes – everything is all good. Hoorah.

Epilogue: Helena

Much, much, later…

“Toby! Get your butt down here and get to the bus! You’re going to be late!” I scream, knowing my sweet son is taking his damn time, watching videos on YouTube like he always does. When he doesn’t answer, I lose it. “Ugh, I’m going to kill him, I swear. “

Of course, Addison is just like Toby, only much older. He’s sipping on his coffee, with a shit-eating grin attached to his face, thinking all of this is hilarious. I give him an angry glance and he sets his mug on the table, nodding. “Okay, okay,” he says, gulping down. “Toby, listen to your mother!” he calls out. “She doesn’t work so hard so you can lounge around.”

“Fiiiine,” Toby murmurs. He opens the door and smiles at both of us.

“We should have never gotten him that phone,” I shake my head.

“They all have them now,” Addison says. “His teacher says it was either that or the tablet.”

“Well, it’s stupid,” I say, knowing the world has changed into something completely different. All of that stuff was just coming out when I taught at Canton Junior High. Now they require them to have it with them instead of books? It doesn’t make sense to me.

“Sorry Ma,” Toby reluctantly says as he scoots by me.

“Good boy.” Addison smiles. “So respectful to the beautiful women in his life.”

“Tryin’ for bonus points, I see,” I laugh. “Hey, don’t forget your cap.”

I grab his hat and put it on him, a bit too tight around his forehead. He groans and readjusts it. He looks so handsome, every single morning and I die a little every time I notice him grow up. Today is one of those times and even though I’m choking up, I feel so happy he’s with us in this family now.

“Love you, mom,” he says. “See you after practice.”

“Hit a homerun!” Addison calls out. Toby smiles and makes a batting stance, swinging an imaginary bat. He makes a crashing noise and runs out the door.

“The crowd goes wild!” Addison yells. Toby screams and meets up with some neighborhood friends, down the way.

“Hey, Mrs. Williams!” One of them smiles.

“Mrs. Williams, wassup!” Another one winks.

I wave and shut the door, shaking my head. “They love you,” Addison laughs. “You’re the hot mom on this block.”

“Oh God, please don’t say that,” I close my eyes tight. “That’s creepy as hell.”

“At least you don’t bake them cookies like some of these moms do,” he says.

“Some of the moms bake them cookies?!” I exclaim.

“No, but I’m kind of getting turned on imagining you in an apron, all covered in dough.” He gives me a sly look and stares at my tits.

“Yeah, is that what you want?” I ask him, sitting on his lap, my ass against his pelvis. Even after all these years, his cock works better than anybody else’s. I unbutton my shirt a little, until my cleavage spills out for him.

“Jesus, woman. How?” He kisses the curves of my neck and feels around my waist.

“How what?” I ask him.

“How are you even real?” He licks his lips. I move off of him and bend over, next to the fireplace.

“You’re killing me,” he mutters.

“You really like my body still?” I ask him, jutting my butt into the air. I crawl forward a little, smiling. “Even after everything we’ve been through?

I can’t say marriage is the easiest thing in the world. If I thought dating was difficult, I was an idiot. Getting married, spending your money on a new business, and having a kid is about the toughest thing anyone can do, but we’re still here. We’re still fighting. We’re still madly in love. And, yes, we still have sex five times a week.

We’re insane, but this is the life we’ve chosen. All in all, it’s not as hard as it could have been.

He strips down until he’s fully naked. His cock is unimaginable. He’s a man now. He’s more of a man than he’s ever been before. He steps forward and eyes me. He puts his hand down and squeezes his fingers against my clit and lips. He knows my body unlike anybody else. He knows it inside and out.

“Do I like your body?” He mulls the thought over. His cock just grows and grows. “I live for this body, woman.” He runs his hands up to my hips and squeezes, not gently, but hard. “It’s been a day since we’ve fucked. I need you right fucking now.”

“Thought so.” I smile, feeling myself getting wetter by the second.

The phone rings right as he’s about to penetrate me, right as we’re both about to feel that warm goodness. “Fuuuck,” he groans.

“Just put it in me,” I plead. “Come on.”

“I’ve gotta answer this. We’re behind on some payments,” he says. See. Marriage is a bitch sometimes.

“Just do it.” I widen my eyes. He grabs the phone and answers it.

“Yeah?” he says. “Ah, Halloway. What’s up?”

I don’t care that he’s talking on the phone. I grab his cock and guide it to my center. I close my eyes and feel him push inside me. We both groan loudly. “Yes!” I scream.

“Are you guys really having sex right now?” I hear Halloway say on the other side of the line.

Addison coughs and makes a weird noise. “Uhhhh,” he says. “Yeah, Halloway, I’m going to need to call you back. Sorry, brother.” He hangs up the phone and we both laugh for a second.

“Sorry. That was fucked up of me,” he says.

“I don’t care. Just fuck my brains out,” I whisper.

He does, and it keeps me going, going, going, until I’m gone, out of this world.

Author’s Note:

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Prologue: Marshall

“Marshall! Marshall!” The words sound like harsh bells ringing against my ears. “Wake up!” Then comes the banging against the doors, twisting of metal knobs.

“Shit,” I hiss, rolling over and pressing the pillow against my ear. “Come on. I’m sleepin’!” I say.

“Marshall, you better wake up, you bastard,” the guy says. It’s Adam, from back at the station. If he’s banging on the door this hard, God only knows what’s happened.

“Alright, alright!” I yell. “I’m getting up.”

I glance over at the left side of my bed and there’s a body next to me. No, not like that. She’s alive and she’s, well, fine as hell. She’s beautiful, young, and her ass practically shines against the moonlight coming through the windows. She rolls over too and moans and I have to ask myself, Did I fuck her last night?

Truth is things always get a little hazy in the evening for me. When you give me a bottle of liquor, or two, you never know what’s going to happen. Hell, I’ve woken up in worse situations before. Much worse.

The banging just continues, which makes me want to bang my pistol against Adam’s head when I open the door. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Adam?” I ask him, squinting my eyes. I check my watch and… “It’s four in the god damn morning! This better be good.”

“Sir, there’s been a robbery. At the bank, down south on Holton Street,” he says, out of breath. “I’ve been calling you for the past twenty minutes. We need you.”

“Like hell you need me,” I sigh, glancing over my shoulder to look at the girl in my bed.

“Come back to bed, sweetie,” she says, drunk.

“Not now, baby,” I say. When he looks at me as if I’m crazy, I just shrug and say, “Who knows.”

“You going to get some clothes on, or what?” he asks. That’s when I notice that he’s trying his hardest not to look down at my cock. I’ve never really had the same boundaries as other people, I guess. I don’t care for that sort of thing. If people are offended, they can move along. I’m a goddamn police officer, for Christ sakes. I’ve earned the right to roam around naked in my house.

Plus, the women love it.

“Yeah, yeah,” I laugh. “Try not to get too excited.”

I grab my favorite pair of jeans, my lone star belt buckle, and my boots and t-shirt. I put everything on as fast as I can and I take a deep breath. I’m drunk still, but I feel pretty good. At least, maybe I can figure out where these supposed bank robbers are going to next, ‘cause they sure as hell aren’t staying around town anytime soon.

“Out,” I smack the girl in bed’s ass. “Come on. Get.” I hate to be rude, but there are more pressing matters that I need to attend to.

“You fucker,” she says, shielding her big ol’ breasts. I hate to see them go. I really do. It’s just this damn job sometimes takes all my fucking time away from me. Frankly, it’s not very fair.

“Sorry, honey. Time to go to work,” I say.

“I’ll sleep here.” She forces a smile.

“No, you won’t,” I laugh. “You’ll go home. Thank you very much.” I give her a twenty, not for the sex, but for the gas home. She throws it on the floor and spits in my face.

Adam slaps the side of the door, laughing hysterically. “Whoa there!” he yells. “She got you good.”

She walks by him and spits on his face too. That makes the laughing stop. “Ignore it,” I warn him. “Happens too often.” I wipe the spit off my face and watch as her butt jiggles away into her car. She speeds out of there and I sigh loudly because I don’t remember being with her. It’s a shame, really.

“You ready?” Andy asks, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” I say. “Show me what’s going on.”

Virginia

“Move!” I hear Craig scream. “We have like ten fucking seconds.”

“Foul mouth,” I whisper, checking my watch. “And we have 30. Calm down and cut the chords, grab the cash, and detonate the C4.”

Men. They can’t get anything done without help from a woman. That’s just a fact. He cuts the lights and the whole bank goes dark. The sirens aren’t too far away. When I glance over my shoulder, I see the red and blue reflections, darting toward the glass. “They’re coming,” I say. “Hurry it up.”

“Almost got it,” Elroy says. “Almost…”

Craig and Elroy heave the money into the bag. After a few seconds, I hear the zipper move up. “Got it!” Craig yells. “Blast this place. Fuck the police.”

“Give ‘em what they give us every single day,” Elroy whispers, pleased with himself.

The front and back sides of the bank explode and we dart into the tunnel below. We’ve got this all planned out pretty damn well. We’ve been researching for a year now and it looks like we might make it out alive. Might.

Craig and Elroy, however, are in this for the wrong reasons. Social justice, power to the people… sure. I’m all for it. But for me, it’s all about the money. I want to dip out of this place, start a new life in Bangkok, or Tokyo, and never come back to the States again. It’s not that I’m even against the place. I just have some bad history here. I’d rather not think about it ever again. I’d rather not think about him ever again.

“Move!” I scream, pushing past them. I grab two bags of cash and lurch toward the underground tunnel. “See you on the other side,” I whisper. We all split up. There’re at least 12 different routes down here, and I doubt the cops have any idea where they lead to. It’s good for us, down here. Bad for them.

Away from them, I run against the metal platform below me. I can finally have some peace of mind. If they get caught, they’re out of their own cut of the money. They won’t snitch. I know them too well. They have sealed lips.

I feel free, running like this, even with the sound of police boots echoing yards behind me. “Stop!” one of them screams. They aim their gun and sigh when they lose sight of me. I’m too fucking fast for them and much too smart. I hear one of the guys trip and fall against the metal platform and he screams a curse word I can’t quite make out. Part of me wants to slow down and tempt fate. The other part of me wants to get the hell out of here.

I get to the end of the line, where a large seal closes off the exit. I grab the metal twister near the ground and turn it as hard as I can, lefty-loosey, as they say in grade school. It unlatches. Loudly. But it doesn’t matter. I keep the metal twister at my side and go through the exit, closing the thing behind me and locking it. I see the cops duck around the corner just as it slams shut for good.

I reach into the bag and heat up the metal with one of my torches. The whole thing is elaborately genius, I have to laugh out loud, though I hope it doesn’t give me away as a woman. That’s something I never want them knowing, despite how good it would feel to see the shock on their faces. There aren’t too many women in this town who can rob a bank and I don’t think with my history, it would be that hard to find me.

I heat up the metal until it’s glowing. It’s locked shut and when one of the cops reaches out from the other side, I hear him scream in pain. “Too hot,” I whisper. “Dumbass.”

I grab my tools and my bag, and run the hell out of there. I climb the stairs up and peek my head out of the small manhole. There’s no one around. Not another human for a whole block. The government thought this street would be good for some construction and now they have to pay the price when they bail the city bank out of half a million dollars.

The construction guys leave this area every single night at around the same time. As for now, it’s only some drunk stragglers that are out. Derelicts, winos, homeless wanderers who don’t give a damn about me. As I move off the street, I duck into the forest by me, walking along the trees. Every time a car moves by me, I carefully put my back up against the bark and hold my breath. Nothing. No one knows a thing.

Cop cars zoom in the other direction, toward the bank. I’m free. Fucking free.

Marshall

“I envy you,” he laughs, steering us toward the bank.

“Why the hell would you go and do a stupid thing like that?” I ask him, looking straight, toothpick in my mouth. I move it up and down with my lips and make sure my hat hovers in just the right way to make me feel confident I can solve this one. Truth is, I doubt I can. I’ll need them to be stupid. I’ll need them to make another move.

“You kidding me, sir?” he laughs again, awkwardly now. His breath is quick and irregular. He’s scared. I’m not sure if he’s frightened of me, or if he’s simply thinking the same thing I’m thinking. We can’t find them. We don’t have anything on them besides some names. Shit, I doubt we’ll even have CTV footage, knowing the lack of money this city is circulating these days.

“Not kidding,” I say. “Envy is a sin. You know that?”

“Well, then call me a sinner, sir,” he says. I hate how he’s sucking up to me right now. It’s pitiful. “Every time I come over there, and I know it’s not much, you’re always with some new girl. When I see you out at the bars, you’re with a new beautiful woman. I don’t know how you do it.”

I carefully side eye him and he nearly shits his pants. “Adam, are you calling me ugly or something?” I ask him. He chokes on his words. “‘Cause I know I’m nearing 40, but you don’t have the rank to start talkin’ shit to me, boy.”

“I—I—didn’t,” he stumbles and closes his eyes. “Watch the road, son,” I tell him. “Jesus.” Then I start laughing a little, letting him know it’s okay. “Ease up. You don’t have to be so high strung. It was a fucking joke.”

“Sorry, man,” he says, dropping the whole sir thing now. Thank the lord. “I just don’t think we have a case here.”

“Let’s see what comes up first. Cool?” I say, lifting my hat up for a second to wipe a bead of sweat from my forehead. “And, shit, man. Don’t envy me for fucking women. It’s weird.” He nods. I wish I could be like everyone else. Like Adam. Like the guys around me at the station, wifing up their high school sweethearts and feeling good about themselves. Having children. I’m not like them. The whole thing kind of makes me sick, to be honest.

When we pull into the bank, he stops the car, but keeps the lights on. “Thank God you came,” the owner runs out. “The bastards got in and took practically everything.”

“Who the hell robs a bank at night?” I sigh, shaking my head. I hold my hand out and he instinctually takes it. “Warren. Warren Marshall. Friends call me Marshall.”

“Yeah, I know who you are,” he says, eyeing me like a whipped dog. “You do good work out here. I’m glad I got you working this thing.”

That line of his breaks my damn heart. Crushes it, really. “Seeing a small bank owner get robbed under his nose hurts my damn soul,” I say. “We’ll figure this out. Not sure what we have to go on though.” I have to be honest with the man. At least, I do a little.

“Figured,” he says. These things are taken care of at higher levels anyway. That’s not really the point, if you ask me. “Let me take you through.”

He walks me in and my jaw nearly comes unhinged. The whole front is blown to bits. The back too. “They demolished the whole place,” he says. “I’m going to be dealing with this for months.”

I just nod and keep walking. “They left underneath. I didn’t know there were maintenance tunnels here. Why they would build them here is beyond me,” he says. Again, I just nod and keep my eyes open.

It takes me a few minutes to see it, but when I do, I know I’ve found something. A piece of cloth, near the gnarled-up vault. It looks like some of the burnt money scattered on the ground, only it’s got a slight pink hue to it. I grab it and put it in my pocket, making sure Adam doesn’t see shit. It’s not regular police work to do so, but it’s how I work. I don’t bring things into the station. I don’t play by the government’s rules and regulations.

I walk through the bank and see what I need to see. Adam just keeps sighing, whispering, “Shit,” and “Well, I’ll be.” Good police work, Adam. What a fine job you’re doing.

“Get forensics on this,” I say. “Any footage around the next three streets would be great. Stoplights. Traffic cams. CTV?” I turn to the bank owner.

He shakes his head. “Nah. We can’t afford any decent CTV. All we have are the back cameras, but that won’t do any good,” he says.

“Get that footage from him too,” I say. “Maybe we’ll find something. You never know.”

I nod to myself. I need a fucking beer. I need a nice set of thighs wrapped around my face right about now. Fuck, I need a woman. Bad. It’s too early to be policing. I just want to be continuing last night’s fun.

We exit the bank and I get in the car. When we drive away, Adam’s silent. “Turn on the radio or something,” I motion. He does and while he does, I glance at the opening to my pocket. I caress the fabric until it slides out onto my fingers. Pink. Thin. Why the fuck would any bank heister be wearing pink? I stretch out, making sure Adam doesn’t see anything he doesn’t need to see.

Pantyhose. That’s the only thing I can connect it to. Did the guys wear pantyhose around their faces? If so, why? It was nighttime. They were shielded. There weren’t any customers. A woman? Did they have a woman with them? No fucking way. A woman couldn’t plan a heist like this out. There’s no way in hell I’m going to believe that.

Well, if they have a woman with them, it must be that she’s taken under their will. That’s the only thing I can come up with. Maybe I’m too tired. Maybe that’s fucking stupid of me. Maybe I’m getting lazy. Older. Whatever the case, I need to find her. If she’s being taken advantage of, I’ll fix this. I’ll come out as a hero to the city and to the citizens. Frankly, it’s a win-win.

Good thing too. I never lose.

Virginia

I never lose at pool. It’s practically the one competitive game I’m good at. When I was a little girl, my dad used to take me to the dive bar across town, Six’s, and I’d watch him drink and play pool all day. I was too young to know how fucked up it was. For me, I was just proud to be near my dad. I was happy then…

Now, I’m stuck on my own. No friends anymore. No nothing. I just have the money that I stole and it’s buried under a bush outside. I’m here because… well, I’m here really because I’m lonely. The idea was that it would be a good alibi. I’m not really sure how it’s the best alibi anymore. I should be home. I should be asleep, dreaming of my escape out of this country.

I drink my Corona quickly and find myself ordering another one. The door nearly slams open and all of the bells attached to it jiggle violently. I’m shaky, probably too nervous. I need to relax. When I glance over, I see the guy. I know who he is. I’ve studied him. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Warren Marshall. Jesus fucking Christ. I try not to cry, but I’m so freaked out. I hold my breath and count to ten. I fake a smile at the pool players, but it’s obvious I’m not with them. I have no plan, no good alibi, and no great escape. I down the second beer in a second, and push toward the door, avoiding all eye contact.

“Shot of Whiskey,” I hear him say to the bartender. I feel it. I feel his head turn in my direction. Don’t do it. Don’t say anything. Please. “Whoa there! Hold on a minute. Who are you and where are you going? You look suspicious,” he says.

I stop dead in my tracks. “Um, I—” I choke. I don’t know what to say. He’s caught me. I’m done for. I’m going to jail forever. All my plans down the drain. He smiles, looking like a wolf. He’s got perfect teeth, a perfect body, and a perfect face. He terrifies me.

“I’m kidding,” he laughs. “Didn’t mean to frighten ya. What’s your name? Why don’t you have a drink with me?”

Shit. I look toward the door, but he sees my hesitance, so I attempt to look calm. No dice. I am not calm. I am far from it. My heart is pounding. I swear, I’m starting to sweat. I’m losing fucking control in the worst way. I start to feel dizzy. I start to think about how things were three months ago, when the guys and me first hashed out this plan. It was so idyllic. It wasn’t too hot. Summer hadn’t quite hit yet. We had all these plans. There was going to be so much money coming in that we could all buy a villa somewhere, on the cheap. All of our dreams could come true. I could own a coffee shop somewhere in the south of Italy, in Sicily. The old country. Things would be real. Finally.

“I really shouldn’t,” I say out of the side of my mouth. God, why do I have to be so awkward all the time. I’m tough. Deep down, I’m really tough. Why can’t I ever let it show? “I’ve had enough alcohol already…”

“What?” he laughs and claps his hands eagerly. “Too drunk? It’s early, darling.”

“Yeah, but…” Come on. I need an excuse. Anything. I just need to come up with something good. “Studying,” I blurt out. I don’t even say a real sentence, just studying. It’s pathetic and I hate myself for it.

He checks his watch and I suddenly notice how smooth his lips look, how perfectly tanned his skin is. He’s riding that perfect line of young enough to still be attractive and old enough to be a man. He’s powerful. It all happens in a split second and then the allure wears off. Bad news. I’m always tempted by bad news. If someone told me to stare away from the sun, I’d stare straight at it until my eyes burned out.

“It’s only 10:30. You’re really going to leave this place at 10:30?” he asks. When I don’t answer, he keeps going, pulling up two stools for both of us. “Come on. Sit down. This place gets real fun around 11.”

“Okay,” I mutter. I’m forced to oblige him. If I say no, I’m afraid he’ll tail me. I hate cops more than I hate the real bad guys, killers and the like. They’re practically the same thing to me. I still don’t know if he’s on to me or not. If he’s not, then I can move on and feel a little better about my situation.

“What’s your name? I think I’ve seen you around here before. You’ve lived here a while, haven’t you?” he asks me, motioning for a drink at the bar tender. “What’re you drinking?”

“Uh, yeah. A while now,” I lie. “I’ll take a—?” I glance over at his drink.

“Whiskey soda!” he yells at the bartender. He nods. “It’s a simple drink. I like it enough, I suppose. Anyway, I’ve been here all my damn life. Name’s Marshall.”

He puts out his hand, but when I go to shake it he takes my fingers in his hand and kisses the top of my knuckles. His cologne wafts into my nose slowly, but surely, and I can’t help but approve. It reminds me of my father’s and it brings back good memories for a second. Then I remember that he’s not akin to me. He’s nowhere near like me.

“Marshall. Nice to meet you. I’m Virginia Greene.” I say it to him in a nice, sweet voice. As long as I’ve got him here, I might as well play the character up a bit. If he thinks of me as nice, beautiful, and willing to please him, he’ll always think of me that way. That’s one advantage women have over men.

“Virginia slim,” he jokes, wrapping his hand around my waist. I twitch a little and he lets it drop to my knee. I let it rest there, despite my major reluctance.

“Bad joke,” I tell him honestly.

“Yeah, I’m not too good at telling jokes,” he says, taking a sip. The way he looks at me is deep and thoughtful, and I soon start to realize that I have nothing to worry about. He has no idea that I’m a criminal. He can’t care to give that a second thought right now. Right now, all the thinking is going on in his cock.

Am I scared still? Yes. But my heart has slowed down to a normal rate and I’m not clammy anymore. Scared, but I can get out of this.

I drink from my glass faster than normal. All I can think about is getting back to my bed, back to the comfort of my shitty apartment. I’ve hated that place for so long, but now it seems like a godsend. God, why did I have to change my life around for some extra cash? Freedom, I know. But the whole thing now seems unthinkable. If I could turn back time, I wouldn’t go through with it. That much, I know.

He squeezes my leg and it snaps me out of my trance. Actually, he’s looking more handsome. In this deck of cards, he’s an enemy. But he doesn’t know that. “You’re funny,” I laugh. “It wasn’t that bad of a joke.”

I don’t know why I’m humoring him. It’s the daredevil in me, always willing to ride the line. I could go back to his place right now. I could jump onto his lap. He could feel down my waist, around the curves that lead toward my ass, and even further toward the greatest treasure man has ever laid eyes on. I could unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans. I could grab his thick cock. I know it’s huge. And I could slowly push it inside me. I can feel it now.

I’m wet.

“Thank you, sweetie-pie,” he says, winking. The wink. It kills me. I need to calm down. My heart starts beating in a very different way. All of the blood has moved between my legs. I’m warm and he can sense it. Men like him can always sense it.

“You’re cute,” I say, laughing a little and scrunching up my nose. What the hell am I doing? I’m riding the line…

Marshall

“I’m cute?” I reply back. I can’t believe this woman is saying I’m cute. The things I could do to her. The things I will do to her. She has no idea. I’m not cute. I’m an animal and I’m going to ravage her.

“Little bit,” she smiles. God damn, her cute little nose. She’s the cute one. She’s fucking beautiful. Jaw-dropping, gorgeous. Perfect figure. An ass and a pair of tits that men would kill each other over. She’s talking to me. I found her first. I can’t believe it.

“Damn, you’re a whole lot of wonderful,” I say, feeling the alcohol start to influence me. “I needed this.”

“Needed what?” she smiles. Her teeth are white. Her eyes are hazel green. Her skin has a slight tan color to it. Perfect. She’s perfect. I want to bend her over against the bar right now. I want to kick everyone out and have her do a little dance for me, while I sit in the back and stroke my…

“I needed to talk to someone beautiful,” I say. “I had a hard night last night.”

“Yeah?” she looks down at my belt and I feel my cock twitch a little. Gotta control myself. Can’t get hard in front of a crowd. Everyone here knows who I am.

I see her glance at my holster and then at my badge, which is tucked inside of it. It shouldn’t be hangin’ out like that, but it is. Fuck it.

“You some kind of a sheriff?” she asks me.

“Somewhat,” I say. Ranks don’t matter. She doesn’t know the ins and outs of the business. Anyway, I’d rather not even talk about what I do for a living. That whole thing is boring. Unfortunately, women tend to focus on it. They love a man in uniform. They love the idea that there are some bad men out there and I can be the one to protect them.

“You lock up the bad guys?” she asks innocently. She makes a fake gun gesture with her hand and shoots at the air, making some noises.

I laugh when she laughs. I want her to keep having a good time. Being a cop is much more than that, though. It’s putting your life on the line. Any place you go, there can be trouble. Shit, there are probably a few people who want me dead in this bar here. I try not to let it get to me.

“Been a cop almost all my life. Even when I was a kid, I was already a cop. It’s in my blood, I guess,” I tell her.

“Was your dad a cop or something?” she asks. She stirs her ice in her glass, letting me know that I need to buy her another drink. I glance at the bartender and point with my head, making a “two” sign with my hand. She continues, “Seems like a scary job to sign up for.”

I laugh again and glance down at her legs. She’s wearing a basic skirt, white, it’s a little short, but I want to see more. I have to see more. I place my hand on her thigh again and try to test fate. She doesn’t fret or say a word. She just lets me. She’s warmer the higher I go, but I stop at a normal respectable place. I don’t want to press too much, too fast.

“It’s a stupid job to sign up for. Most of us, believe it or not, aren’t the smartest people,” I smile. “But I was called to it. I, uh, grew up around some pretty bad people growing up. My pa used to beat up on my sister… Being a cop was a duty I felt I needed to do, despite my well-being.”

It’s the truth. My parents were assholes. No. They were worse. They were low-life drug users who had a knack for knocking my older sister around. Then, they took to beating me, which wasn’t really the whole problem. I could take a beating. I wanted to protect Sarah, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t strong enough. Helpless. That’s the only word that sounds right.

“That’s very noble,” she says, nodding. I look solemn. I know it. I gotta snap out of it.

“Anyway, I’m getting all depressing now. Let’s talk about something nice,” I say.

“Like what?” she asks. She checks her watch. Have I blown it? Is she going to leave me here high and dry?

“Like that smile of yours,” I say. She glances down bashfully. It’s damn cute. “How can I get that smile to go out with me?”

She laughs a little and keeps on smiling. “I don’t know. I…” she trails off, thinking a little. She’s seeing someone. I’ve seen this reaction before. “I sort of have a boyfriend,” she says. Nailed it.

“Is your boyfriend as handsome and charming as me?” I ask her.

“Well, he’s not a cop,” she says. Ouch. “Just joking. He’s kind of a deadbeat.”

I don’t care what he is. I want to feel what it’s like when my lips crush against hers, dragging down her delicate skin, kissing her bellybutton, as she twitches ever-so-slightly, and I finally meet the center of all pleasure. I want to suck on each fold, massaging my tongue against her smoothly. I want to taste her and enjoy her. I want to devour her.

“Good,” I say. “I’m not. Let me take you out. Steak dinner. It’ll be expensive.”

I never put this much effort into a woman. She should feel grateful. Hell, I do. I still can’t believe I found a woman this beautiful in this kind of a shithole. “I might have to take you up on that offer,” she says.

“How about we just skip the dinner and go back to your place?” I find myself saying, feeling pretty good about myself.

She just shakes her head and says, “Nice try,” and she begins to walk away. I call after her and she stops, grabbing in her purse. A real fucking tease, this woman. She smiles and pulls out a pen and a blank card. She writes down a phone number and kisses the front. Her lipstick leaves an impression and I nearly fall from the barstool. “Call me. Maybe I’ll answer. Maybe I won’t,” she says.

“Sure thing,” I say. I’m intrigued, to say the least. If I can solve this bank thing and bag a hot girl, I’ll have won the fucking lottery.

Virginia

God, I want to vomit. What the fuck is wrong with me? Borderline personality? Maybe. I don’t know anymore. You’d think I’d play it safe, but deep down I love to skirt the line.

“One week. That’s all you’ll have to wait. There’s a boat with your name on it. Tell the ticket guy at the docks your name and he’ll take you where you need to go,” Craig told me before the big heist. “We’ll all meet up in Sicily. We’ll have a big fucking celebration. Pasta, fried squid, wine… it’ll be perfect.”

We’re all good friends and now things feel so incredibly lonely without them. The only thing I have to do to pass the time is read the few books I’ve kept around my place. Other than that, it’s stare at the wall. So I guess that’s another reason why I talked to him. He really seems to have no idea who I am or what I really do for a living. I’m the girl he’s after, in so many ways.

My phone rings the next day, but I don’t answer it. I don’t want to see Marshall. I don’t need that kind of shit right now. It was stupid of me, anyways. No, instead, I head over to a small coffee shop down the block. It’s a total dump, but they always have the TV on, there’s never anyone there, and I figure I can get some news that way. I don’t have a TV at my place, so it works out.

I open the door and Jin, the old Japanese owner, nods in my direction. I nod back and he smiles. My heart is beating quick again. I still haven’t gotten used to the thought that nobody knows what I did. Part of me is waiting for the day where everyone points in my direction, when I’ll feel that heavy lump fall to the pit of my stomach.

No. I can’t think that way.

“Just a drip coffee,” I tell him and I glance at the top right corner of the store. The TV is off. He’s got the radio playing some old tunes instead. A fly buzzes by an open container of alcohol and he shoos it away.

He pours me a cup of coffee and asks, “How’s it been, sweetheart?” Sweetheart. It’s the type of compliment all men give to women in the area. For the most part it’s cute and I accept it around these parts.

“Okay,” I take a sip of the coffee. “Anyway, I’m alive.”

“Yeah, that’s something,” he nods. He doesn’t take it any further.

“Think you can turn the TV on for me? Heard there was some commotion the other day,” I say. It’s a small town. He’ll know exactly what I’m talking about.

“The bank thing? They stole a hell of a lot of money,” he laughs and clicks the remote. “Good on them though. Those bankers have been stealing from us for decades. It’s about time someone gave them some payback.”

“I guess so,” I mutter, feeling sort of thrilled by the whole thing. I never really thought about the idea that other people might actually inadvertently be rooting for us, like we’ve done the town a favor or something. I expected pitchforks and mobs, and angry policemen. So far, we’ve gotten very little of any of that.

“It doesn’t worry you?” I ask him. “Seeing people steal like that? It kind of scares me.”

He shrugs. “Nothing really scares me these days. Nothing except myself,” he says.

Truth is, I really relate to that. Nothing scares me either, except my own guilt, and my history. The one thing I could relate to when talking to Marshall last night was when he mentioned his father beating up on his sister like that. My father also beat on us. The only difference was, my mother went right alongside with him. I don’t know what kind of a relationship he has with his family now, if any, but I still see my parents around this city. I still have to be in the same proximity, knowing they got away with everything. I don’t talk to them anymore, but every so often, our eyes meet.

The knowing hurts more than anything.

The TV volume blares and Jin struggles to hit the remote fast enough to turn it down. “The police have offered very little information, but the investigation is going at full speed,” a reporter says. They cut to a prior interview with Marshall’s partner, a man named Adam. He says, “We will find these men and we will bring them to justice.”

It’s a standard answer, and one that has the desired effect, I suppose. They will find these men, perhaps. But will they find the woman? I laugh slightly and Jin eyes me. “See, you think it’s a little funny too. Don’t you?”

“A little bit,” I admit.

“I doubt they’ll find them,” he says.

“I honestly have no clue,” I shrug. “Life goes on, I suppose.”

I think about Marshall and I feel sick to my stomach again. That guy is a bastard. No doubt about it. He’s a cop who fucks women, and probably doesn’t even think to call them back. And yet, I’m drawn to him like a fly to a spider’s web.

Before I get out of this city, I’m going to do everyone a favor. I’m going to respect Jin and everybody else’s wishes. I’m going to take Marshall down.

I am the spider. And he has no idea just how far he’s caught in my web.

Marshall

The bitch won’t even answer her phone. All I get is the same “We’re sorry. The caller you are trying to reach is not available,” message. It’s disheartening, to say the least. Here I am, working on the hardest case of my damn career. I thought she’d be there when I needed her. Well, shit, I thought wrong. I have to hand it to her. She led me on real well.

I have no real case to work on. That’s the worst of it. All I have are a few lousy descriptions of the three perpetrators. Let’s see… they’re about 5 foot 4 inches to 6 foot two inches. They were wearing masks. They carried bags. They were highly skilled. Possible sexual crimes on the side. The pantyhose still perplex me.

But now I have all the higher-ups on my ass, telling me I need to solve this thing in a week or else. Whatever that means. I’ve been with the department for over twenty years now. Would they really fire me that fast? I guess if they had orders to, they would.

It lights a fire under my ass, that’s for sure. I want to solve this case more than anything. I want to take these assholes down. To me, it’s just another chase and, boy, do I love a good chase. But this Virginia woman. She keeps popping into my mind. More so than the dumb fucking robbery.

I walk out of the department with Adam next to me, frowning. His bad attitude makes it that much harder to concentrate on our next move. We need to find out where they’ll hit next. Rest assured, they’ll hit another bank. They always do.

“We got jack shit,” he sighs. “I swear, they’re going to hang our asses when we show up empty handed.”

“Try and stay positive,” I tell him, knowing how impossible that is right now. He’s younger than me, though. I need to lead by example. At least, I need to try to. “We’ll figure it out. You got that map I asked you to make?”

“The one of all the banks within a 200-mile radius?” he asks. I nod. “Yeah, I got it. I’ve been studying it a lot, actually.”

“Good. We need to keep studying it. My guess is that they split up. Maybe they’re waiting to meet up again. If they do, they’re going to hit another bank. The ones without CTV cameras are first on our list,” I say. I stretch my back, feeling every muscle extend.

And then my phone rings. “One second,” I fumble for my pocket.

“Warren Marshall,” I answer. I already know who it is. It’s Virginia. Only, this isn’t a good time. I have work to do.

“What’re you up to?” I hear her voice. That sweet, southern voice.

“Solving a case, honey,” I say, smooth. “And you?”

“Trying not to think about you,” she says. God, she’s killing me every single second. I glance at Adam who’s tapping his heel. Is he still envious of me, I wonder? “…and that steak dinner.”

“Of course you are. You going to take me up on that still?” I ask.

“Why not,” she says. “I mean, I don’t really have any plans.”

“Tonight then,” I say, feeling pretty damn confident of myself at this point. I smile big and think about all the positions I’m going to put her in tonight. I think of her smell, the way her smile angles ever-so-slightly, and how her nose shrinks up when I make her laugh. I need her.

“Tonight. I’ll meet you at the bar again. 6:30,” she says.

“7,” I tell her.

“Sounds good.” She hangs up the phone and I’m left with Adam’s dumb, tapping heel.

“What?” I ask him. “What’re you staring at?”

“Another woman?” he smiles.

“No, a man,” I laugh. “What do you think?”

“I think I hate you,” he says.

“They all do, son,” I smile. “They all do.”

Virginia

So I did it. I really did it. I made a date with the devil himself: Warren Marshall. The worst part about it is that I’m actually excited about it. It’s not that he gets me going. I mean, don’t get me wrong. He’s hot. His body is practically perfect. It’s clear that he works on himself, on the daily, in that natural kind of tough way. Still, it’s more that I like the risk. I know that I’m about one second way from losing everything, and somehow that gets me going.

I take a deep breath and get ready. It’s already six and I haven’t even done my makeup. Marshall is cocky. He thinks he has me in the bag. But I’m going to make him work for it. I’m going to make him grovel for me, make him show me what he really thinks of me.

Outside, I walk toward the bar. I haven’t ever owned a car and I doubt I ever will. Still, I look classy as ever. “He’s going to die,” I think to myself, with a smile. The black dress I have on was my mothers and though I despise that woman, she did have some taste every now and then. This is the one thing she gave me, before I severed all contact with her.

I’m not going to let those thoughts get me down tonight. No, tonight is all about making Marshall feel at home. I’m not going to fuck the guy or anything. That’s a bit too much persuasion for my taste. What I’m going to do is lead him to the wrong place.

As I walk, I get a text. It’s from an unknown number, but I already know who it is. Craig and Elroy. They’re breaking up the plan already. It figures they would do something stupid like that. Luckily, we all have new numbers, new burner phones. There’s no way they’re tracing the lines.

The text reads: “We’re hitting another spot.” I feel my stomach drop and I nearly turn back around.

“Are you fucking crazy?” I text back. Then another, “You can’t just do that. It’s not part of the plan. I won’t go through with it.”

“The people overseas want more of a cut. They know just how much we made out with,” he says. I can’t picture which one it is, but I can imagine both of their faces right now. No doubt they quickly met up afterward. I’m the only one with enough grace to follow through with everything correctly. It’s fucking bullshit.

“Then we’ll pay our fair share. We don’t need to get greedy. I’m not going away. One was enough,” I say.

“We’ll take your cut then,” he says. “They want 300. You willing to spend that much for a year somewhere overseas?”

“I’ll manage,” I say. “I’ll figure something out. I always do.” But I know what he’s saying. He’s saying we’re all fucked out of a shit ton of money. 300k? That’s ludicrous. But we don’t have any options.

“He’ll go to the authorities,” he says. “The feds. He’s one dial away, he claims. Do you really want to risk it?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I feel like slamming my head against the wall. No, I feel like giving up. The initial adrenaline makes me angry, but that quickly subsides. Now, I’m just sad and terrified. I don’t want to go to prison. I don’t want to sacrifice absolute freedom. The worst part is, now I really need Marshall. Now I need protection from the enemy himself.

“No,” I say, truthfully. “I just think this is very sketchy. Like, it’s too sketchy. We’re fucked either way.”

“What’re you going to do over in Italy after one year? Get a job? Work at a bar?” he asks. “Seriously, what do you think you’ll do?”

“I’ll open up a business. I’ll figure it out. Like I said,” I tell him. “Look, just tell me the plan.”

“We need to meet up,” he says. “Virginia. I’m sorry.”

“Fuck you,” I type. “Don’t call or text me on this phone. Seriously. It’s not safe. If you need me, you know where I’m at.”

“Cool,” he says. “Ciao.”

“Bastard,” I mumble.

“Who’s a bastard?” I hear that rough voice from in front of me. I jump back and make out a nice pair of cowboy boots. One is leaning against a large boulder. I look up and see Marshall. His back is against the sign of the bar.

“Nobody,” I say, shocked that I didn’t see him. I need to be more careful. He’s definitely the type of guy who pries for more information. “Just some crap I have to deal with.”

“Boyfriend?” he smiles and squints his eyes. “Don’t think I can’t tell. That was an intimate conversation.”

“You think you know everything. Don’t you?” I laugh. He’s wearing all denim, and yes, he’s looking extremely good tonight. He’s put together, much more put together than last night.

“I’m a cop. I’m supposed to know everything,” he says. He presses his boot heel against the rock, pushing himself up onto his feet. He’s wearing this ridiculous cowboy hat that somehow doesn’t repulse me. He takes it off and bows for me. “You look wonderful,” he tells me. He takes my hand and kisses it and I actually feel a rush run through my body.

I can’t. I can’t be into this. I’m a criminal. I can’t have feelings.

This is so wrong. “Thank you,” I smile. “You look handsome.”

“I know. I always do.” He smiles back. “Shall we?”

“Sure,” I say. “We skipping out on the drinks?”

“I thought we could drink some nicer cocktails at the Steakhouse, or get a bottle of red wine. Whatever you prefer,” he says. “After all, it is your night.”

I get into his car and he turns the key. He’s got an old Ford Mustang. Of course he does. Initially, when he smiles at me, there’s that feeling of helplessness a woman gets when in a man’s car for the first time. There’s something about the enclosed space, the lack of control. It rides the line of good and bad, and I wonder whether or not he’s a trustworthy man. To me, cops are the least trustworthy. They wear the badge, but that doesn’t mean they uphold justice. All that piece of metal stands for is power.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. “I’m not going to bite. I swear.”

“No, it’s not that,” I tell him. “It’s just that I feel bad about something.”

“Yeah?” he drives and carefully watches the road. “What do you feel bad about?” Every so often, he glances over at my breasts. I know they look good in this dress. They’re practically spilling out. I feel self-conscious when he looks, but it’s not necessarily a bad type of self-conscious. It’s just a total awareness that this guy is bad and at any moment, he could put the cuffs on me, and send me away. To be honest, the thought sort of arouses me.

“I should let you know that I don’t have a boyfriend,” I say, feeling slightly ashamed, and a tad bit alarmed that I’m even admitting that to him right now.

“I thought as much,” he nods. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. You’re hot. Nah, you’re like an angel trapped in this shithole desert abyss. But there’s a fierce look in your eyes. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you might be out to get me.”

I feel my heart speed up to an unimaginable degree. I try my hardest to control the red in my cheeks, but I know it’s starting to show through my makeup. Why the fuck would I put myself in this position? Why couldn’t I just take the next flight to Italy? Right. No passport. No ID. No nothing. That’s why. Still, there were other options, right? Did I have to play with fate?

“I don’t hurt people intentionally,” I find myself saying. It’s sort of robotic. I feel the click in my throat when I gulp down and he parks the car in the parking lot of the place. It looks nice. Fancy. He’s trying to spend money on me. And I can sense that he wants me. But does he want to destroy me?

“I didn’t think you did.” He smiles and leans over. I smell his wonderful cologne. It’s dark and rich, and sensual. I find myself closing my eyes when his fingers touch my chin lightly, beckoning me forward. I obey his commands. I let him do what he wants. Then, his lips kiss my cheek. I know he can feel how warm I am, but he can’t feel how wet I’m getting. This is bad. No, this is absolutely horrific.

He pulls back and smiles, breathing in heavy and slow, like he’s taking all of me in. For a second, I wonder if he’s hard right now and if he is, how hard? Is he thick? Is his shaft hot to the touch? Fuck…

“You’re the kind of girl who kills silently. You don’t play games. Not like these other women, anyway,” he says. He unlocks the doors with one click of a button and I feel a huge weight lifted from my chest.

“I’m a nice girl,” I lie. I want to be. I wish I could be a nice girl. I’ve always tried to be, but I just wasn’t allowed the chance. My parents made sure I’d never be nice, or normal, or anything like the other girls. I’d always be a weed, growing out of the cracks of this scorched earth.

“But you’re right about something,” I continue, stepping out of the car. “I don’t play games.”

“Good girl,” he says.

We’re both outside, walking toward the entrance. I have no idea how this is going to end, but I’m actually quite proud of myself. I’ve played this one very nicely. There’s no way he has any idea, nor will he ever. There’s nothing that could go wrong now.

Yes, I have no idea how this will go. But I’ve got a million images in my mind. Like my body arching across his carpet, mouth wide open, as he pounds me ‘til I scream in absolute ecstasy.

Marshall

“Bring us another drink, darling. And make ‘em extra strong.” I smile at the waitress.

“Sure thing, Marshall,” she says, eyeing my beautiful lady, Virginia. She’s jealous, no doubt. But, that’s just life sometimes. You win some and you lose some. Right now, I’m fucking winning.

“So you said you grew up around here?” I ask her. She nods carefully. I take it we’ve had similar upbringings by the way she looks at me. There’s sadness in her eyes. “Don’t worry. I won’t pry. Just wondering is all. Can’t trust a girl from outside of the city, right?”

“That’s what they say around here, anyway,” she smiles out of courtesy. This woman is hot and cold. It’s going to take a lot for me to get inside that dress tonight, but I’m going to try my damn hardest. I need it more than she knows.

The waitress comes back with two drinks and a large check. I slam down a couple hundred dollar bills and smile. “Keep the change,” I wink, trying to act nice, despite the fact that I don’t think she deserves any tip.

“But I think it’s sort of the opposite,” she says. “You can’t really trust anyone in this city.”

I laugh hard at that one. She’s right about that. “Well, I’m going to have to agree with you there.” I smack my knee. “I’ve met just about everyone in this town and they’re all hiding something. Question is, what’re you hiding?”

She smiles wide. “More than you know, Marshall.”

God damn, that turns me on. What is she hiding? All I can say is that whatever it is, I want to know. I’m guessing it’s in between those legs. Those sexy legs, the legs that should be wrapped around my face. The pleasure I could give to this woman… She has no fucking idea.

“We should get out of here. I’ll take you home,” I tell her. She nods and I feel the urge to grab the thick of her ass. Instead, I grab her hand and feel each ridge of her fingers against mine.

Outside, the hot wind wraps around our faces. I feel drunk, but I feel good and present. I want to take this woman to her house. I want to feel in between her legs. And I want her to invite me up. Anyway, that’s the way it’s playing out in my head. Who knows if it’ll work?

I pull her close to me when we get to the car. “You’re impatient,” she says, but she’s smiling.

“I know what I like,” I say. “I know what I want.”

“Oh yeah? You sure about that?” she asks, daring me to do something, to act.

We move close to one another as if we’re pulled by the earth’s gravitational force. Slow. Slower. Even slower. Our eyes close and then I feel it. Our lips crash together, heavy and deep. She falls back, ass against the door of the car. Some cowboy whistles at us and I have half a mind to pummel the bastard, but I can’t even focus on that right now. I have this woman and she’s giving into my every desire.

“Fuck,” she moans as I drag my lips to her neck. I kiss the curve down to her chest bone. I kiss along every ridge, stopping at the most tender spots. She tastes sweet, like sugar. This woman is dangerous. This woman is going to be my end. I know it. But I have to keep discovering her.

Our breaths are hushed and the world around us has turned into a dark haze. Her legs spread on their own. My knee rises up to her pussy. I can feel the warmth radiating from her. I reach down. I feel the edges of that classy black dress. She’s so fucking fine. I’m aching. She’s moaning. We’re both ripping at our clothes. Right when I touch the soft skin of her thigh, she pulls back and says, “I can’t. Fuck. I can’t.”

She’s panting for air and avoiding all eye contact with me now. “What? What’s wrong?” I ask, but I know it’s already too late. Something inside her has set her off. I’m not sure what it is, but this is a losing game. I’m a gentleman. I know when it’s time to back off.

“I just can’t, okay?” she sighs. “Fuck.” Her eyes have turned to fire.

“Okay, no problem.” I lay my hands off her and back up. I unlock the car and watch as she walks hurriedly to the other side.

“Just drop me off at the corner of 31st and Garfield,” she says, staring out the window. She’s tense and sitting fully upright, as if she’s ready to fucking strike. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what I’ve done to piss her off this much. None of it is making any sense to me.

“I can take you home. It’s a hell of a lot safer that way,” I tell her truthfully. 31st and Garfield is not the best area. It goes against my morals to drop a young, striking woman off by herself around that area.

She won’t have it. “No. Not my house. Just do what I ask, okay?”

“Fine. Sure thing. Sorry, honey,” I say, taking a deep breath.

My cock is still hard, pushing the top of my jeans up slightly. I adjust myself and turn the car on. I take off. As we drive, she rests her head against the window of the car. She stares out at the passing lights, idly. I have no idea what’s on her mind. Normally, I wouldn’t give a shit. Tonight’s different. Tonight, I’m aching to know. I’m aching to make things right.

Virginia

I run my hands through my hair. It feels abrasive, instead of silky, thin instead of its normal thickness. I look in the mirror and notice the dark rings under my eyes. “God, I’m disgusting. In every way,” I tell myself. This whole thing… it’s weighing on me bad. I hate knowing how this is all going to end. I loathe thinking about it, but I can’t stop myself. I’m panicking. I’m going to go to prison. I’m going to lose everything, including the chance to get away and live the life of my dreams.

How could this be? Why are Craig and Elroy fucking everything up? I should have never trusted two men to come up with a steady plan. Of course there would be some shakiness to all of it. All I can think is, “This is fucking bullshit.”

I almost fucked that man. I almost let him grapple with his innermost desires. Worst thing is, I think I actually wanted it. I think I wanted his hands to touch me, to grab me, to pull me in deeper. It’s that look in his eyes that does me in. He looks at me like I’m a treasure, like I’m a cut above the rest. I’ve never really felt that before, but now I have the chance to pursue it in the most fucked up way ever.

I shouldn’t do it. I mean, I couldn’t even go through with it. How could I? But I deeply wanted to. God, I’m so fucked up. I’m not a girl that plays games? Fuck, I play the best games and it always starts with myself. My own battles… it’s just not right. I’m not right.

Craig calls the new burner phone that I bought earlier this morning. “What’s the word?” he asks me.

“Nothing,” I sigh. “What do you want? Do you have a plan?”

“We have something cooking up,” he says. He mumbles something to Elroy in the background and then says, “45 minutes outside of town. There’s a small local place. No CTV.”

“Security? Police?” I say, turning my head in paranoia to see if anybody could be listening or watching me. I’m in my house. I don’t know how it would be possible, but I don’t want to take any chances.

“Of course, some security. Nothing we can’t handle,” he says. “Police will get there fast, no doubt. We’ll have to get a vehicle.”

“Why can’t we go at night like last time?” I stupidly ask. Of course, we can’t. We have no materials left since the first hit.

“You know why we can’t. That took months of planning, months of buying the right stuff,” he says. “No. This time, we do it the old school way. In and out. 90 seconds or less. Hopefully less.”

“I don’t have a good feeling about this,” I say. “Not at all. It makes me sick to think about.”

“We’ll be fine,” he assures me in a calm voice. “You’ll do great. Just grab what you need to grab, while I do the yelling. In and out. Remember.”

“We need to meet,” I say. “At least, go over things better.”

“Sure thing,” he says. “Hey, listen. I saw you with that Marshall guy.”

When he says that, I take a seat, quickly. I don’t know how he’s going to react. He’s already expressed to Elroy in the past that he thinks I’m too wild, too crazy. What’s he going to think now?

“Yeah?” I try and keep cool. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Then what are you doing? Are you sabotaging us? There’s people I’ll let know. I’ll bring you down with us,” he says.

“Keep your enemies closer,” I say. “Anyway, it’s not like anything crazy has happened. He thinks I’m just another cute girl at the bar.”

He sighs loudly and talks to Elroy again. Finally, I hear the phone switch over. “Craig wants you done.” It’s Elroy’s voice.

“Yeah, well. What do you want?” I ask him. Elroy’s had a crush on me since, well, forever. But he’s not like Craig. He’s a standup guy. I just don’t like him in that way. Elroy will have my back on this. I know he will.

“I want you to come to your senses, girl,” he says. “This isn’t a game. It’s life or death.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s that extreme,” I argue.

“No? I think it’s worse. We could go away for a very long time, V,” he says. “You really want to get out and see that the world’s changed, that you could have had kids but missed the chance, and that you could have lived a real life if you just chilled out?”

“I didn’t have a fucking choice, okay? He came at me at the bar,” I tell him. “What was I going to do? Tell him to fuck off? I was scared. I was scared for my goddamn life.”

“You should have kept your mouth shut and kept walking. He’s just another horn dog who wants to fuck you. Big deal. There’s no need to talk to the man,” he says. “What did he want anyway?”

“Exactly what you just said. He wants me,” I say, shielding my eyes. The whole thing is just so stupid. I can’t believe I’ve gotten myself into this mess.

“Now he’s going to do everything in his power to keep his eye on you. You really think he doesn’t know you’re involved in the hit? Really?” he presses me.

“Just let me deal with this. Your secret’s safe with me. You have nothing to worry about,” I plead. I place my head against the table. “Look, just leave me alone. And don’t call me on this number again. Goodbye.”

“V! Wait, I—” I hang up the phone.

Do I really like this... this… cop? No. I don’t like him. But now I’ve done myself in. I’ve given into the idea of the unthinkable and now I have to keep him close, especially after this next job. I need to make sure he has no idea what’s going to happen next. I think I’m about to make the worst mistake of my life.

Marshall

I’ve waited for her to call me for days. Fucking days. I don’t get this woman. First, she acts like she wants to straddle my cock, then she acts colder than cold toward me. What’s her angle? Is she game or is she going to keep stringing me along? Better yet, what’s she hiding in that brain of hers? Must be some kind of trauma. Maybe I want to back off.

Of course, just as I decide to, I feel my pocket vibrate. “Sorry about the other night,” she says. “I overreacted.”

“It’s not a problem,” I type. “It’s your choice. If you don’t want to hang with me, you don’t have to.”

“No. I do,” she says. “I really do.”

“What about tomorrow night?” I ask her.

“Sounds good,” she says.

Sounds good? Great. I think I was wrong about this woman. She lives for the game. She lives to play tricks on guys like me.

“What’s wrong with you?” Adam says. We’re sitting at his house, whiskey bottle on the table, but we’re barely even drinking. I’ve tuned out again. I shouldn’t be focusing on what my cock wants. I should be in the game, trying to catch these bastards.

“Nothing,” I wipe a bead of sweat from my forehead. “I’m listening. Go on.”

“Look, I’ve found three possible sites that could point to where they’re going to hit next,” he says. “Here, here, and here.”

His fingers point at this last bank, one a little far away, but it’s a damn good guess. “It’s big enough. It would be hard to rob though. How much security do they got over there?”

“Not as much as you think,” he says. “Two. Sometimes three if they’ve hired on too many people for the year.”

“Hm,” I sigh. I can’t concentrate as much as I want to. My head isn’t in the game. I keep thinking of her. Her waist. Her ass. Those perfect, supple breasts. God dammit.

“I don’t know,” I tell him. “It seems too convenient.”

“I’ve got a hunch that these guys are about justice, or at least they think they are. Of course, in the grand scheme of things, they’re nothing but money stealing criminals,” he tells me, looking confident with himself. “It’s a big bank. It’s not a conglomerate, so they could get away with it. They do a lot of shady loans over there. Very poor area. The people wouldn’t give a damn if it were hit. In fact, they’d probably celebrate it.”

“Just like they did over here,” I nod. “Sure. You’re probably right about that. But what about this one right here?” I move his finger over to the left, maybe twenty miles south.

“Too small,” he shakes his head. “I don’t know, Marshall. I just don’t see them hitting that one. It’d be easy, but there’s not a lot of money in it.”

“That’s exactly my point,” I say. “They already did their big hit and it made national news. They’re not that cocky. They can’t be.”

“Don’t underestimate the stupidity of a criminal,” he says.

“Don’t underestimate the brains of a criminal,” I correct him. After a few seconds of thinking this through, I tell him, “Fine. We’ll go your way on this one. You deserve to call the shots every now and then. You’re a big boy.”

“Shut up, man,” he folds up the map and takes a swig from the bottle. “I won’t let you down, sir.”

“I know you won’t,” I mutter. But deep down, I know they’re going to get away with this one too. They almost always do, if they’re smart enough. And these guys sure are smart enough. It takes three or four to really take a motherfucker down, and when it happens, I’m going to be the man who does it.

Virginia

“You still haven’t shown me your place,” he says, with a sly smile on his face. He calmly looks into my eyes as he takes another shot. I’m still sipping on my first, heart beating quick and irregular. My temperature has gone up and I know I’m glistening in the yellowish light of the bar.

“You don’t want to see it,” I tell him. “Trust me. It’s a shithole.” It’s not really a lie. It is pretty bad. Clothes are strewn everywhere, I haven’t vacuumed in months, and dust lines the tops of my cabinets. I thought I’d be out of the country in a few days. I didn’t expect to be in this insane predicament. Still, even if my apartment was spotless, I wouldn’t offer to show him. He’s already gotten too close to me. He expects to get much closer.

He puts his hand on my kneecap and I nearly spill my drink from jumping. “You okay?” he asks me, slightly angry, I think.

“Yeah. Sorry I keep doing this. I’m just not used to—” He laughs, cutting my sentence short.

“Used to cops? I get it,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“No,” I laugh a little sarcastically. “I don’t think you do.”

“Sure I do, darling,” he says, pointing at a bottle of something. The bartender knows exactly what he wants and he pours him another one. “Everybody hates the police nowadays. They think we’re bad men. It’s a shame, really. I pride myself on being good. In multiple ways.”

I get the idea. But he’s downright annoying. He’s got this heather-grey undershirt on that tucks in right at that V-formation that forms underneath his perfect abs. The shirt hugs tight against each and every curve of his muscles, and for a split second I wonder what it would be like to feel between those lines, to kiss each ripple of flesh.

I gulp my drink down and feel my thighs start to grow warm. I’m doomed, so doomed. “Well, that’s great. You’re the one good cop that’s out there. A real small town hero, right?” It comes out bitchy and I know it, but I can’t help it. I can’t hear this guy brag about how righteous he is when he knows that deep down, we’re all prone to being bad every now and then.

“Now you’re getting rude,” he says.

“Sorry. Again. But what makes you think you’re such a great guy?” I ask him. His eyebrows arch upward as if he’s never pondered the question before in his life. “I mean, what gives you the right to take another man’s freedom away from him?”

“You’ve been watching too much of the local news, haven’t you?” he laughs. Then, he heaves a sigh and relaxes a bit. “But I get it. Don’t you worry. I really understand. There’s something to what you’re saying. But it’s like I told you a few days ago. I grew up watching really bad people get away with flexing their power. There were no checks and balances. Now, I’ve dedicated my life to stopping those people.”

I nod, even though I’m sure he doesn’t get what I’m saying. If he did, he wouldn’t be pursuing this line. “Let’s just hope you don’t turn into one of those people, yourself. It’s a real fine line.”

This date is already off to a rough start. Why are we talking about this crap? Why do I always have to interject with my brazen opinion? Normally, it doesn’t get me anywhere, and I’m sure it won’t take me anywhere nice with Marshall. I want his attention focused on me, not my criminality.

“Let’s talk about nicer things,” I let up with a smile.

“Better yet, let’s dance,” he says, twitching his brows up and down. He kicks the stool back and holds his hands out in front of him, bending slightly to the old country music. I turn to look at the empty dance floor and laugh.

“There’s nobody dancing, Marshall. It’s embarrassing,” I say.

“Aw, come on. Live a little. You’re always so damn tense,” he says, spinning me around. I awkwardly turn and waddle my feet.

“I can’t,” I tell him, feeling so embarrassed already. The old bartender starts clapping to the music and he hollers a “Yeah!” in my direction.

“You know you want to,” he hums. “Be my girl tonight.”

Be my girl. Be my baby. Be my woman. The thought of that feels good. To be somebody’s anything makes me smile, and I actually start laughing as he pulls me toward the dancefloor.

“There we go!” he says. Warmth floods my body like sunshine, like those good days I can remember, from back when I was a child. I step back and find a small groove, and I follow his lead.

“Dammit,” I say. “I can’t believe I’m dancing. I haven’t danced in over a decade.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” he says. “Well, now’s your chance to be free again.”

The thought is funny to me. That dancing with him could somehow be freeing in anyway is almost an oxymoron. He’s my enemy. He’s the man that wants to lock me up forever. Only, he has no idea. He’s ignorant to the whole damn thing.

He pulls me close to him as the lights dim around us. Soon, others are dancing by us. The music has slowed down to something romantic, and slightly cheesy. I can feel his heart beating against mine, the pounding of the rhythm of his body. The bass moves too, causing us to drift closer to each other. “You’re beautiful. You know that?” he whispers, lips against my cheek.

“You’re only saying that because you want something from me,” I say, honestly. My eyes soon close, though. My argument doesn’t matter much anymore. The truth is that we all want something from someone. We all want good things out of this life. I used to fault some people for this, but now it just seems like human nature. We’re all just searching for a little bit of the magic. Whatever of that is left, at least.

“Not true,” he lies. “I’m telling you because I want to. That’s the only thing I’m getting out of this. I know I’m not taking you home tonight, and that’s fine with me.”

My cheek falls to his shoulder. It’s strong and bold, and so is the arm that hugs around my back, the hand that is now running down my hair. It feels so good, and so pure. A bit of excitement runs through my body and I smile again. I suddenly want to give him something real. I want him to have something special.

“Let’s go back to your place,” I say. “We’ll have some coffee and talk.”

“You sure about that?” He pulls me away slightly so I’m forced to look at him in the face. “We don’t have to.” He’s courteous, but of course deep down he’s thinking, “Please, lord. Let me bang the shit out of this woman.” I know, because it’s how all men think. At least he’s kind on the outside, although you almost have to worry more about guys like that.

“I want to, idiot.” I turn away from him and slide my hand down the front of his shirt. I feel his muscles finally and they’re impeccable. He’s built to last, that’s for sure. I let my fingers brush the top of his zipper, and I swear I can feel him grow a little for me. I walk toward the front door and he’s forced to follow me like a dog begging for food at the table.

Outside, I can hear the crunch beneath his soles. He’s not wearing the cowboy boots anymore. Instead, he’s got a pair of nice working man’s boots, a little used from being on the job most likely. He’s got his gun around his waist, which never scares a girl like me. Instead, I sort of like it. Maybe I’m not supposed to, but I grew up around men like that. I’ve never had a problem.

* * *

His house is cold with A/C and oddly enough, it’s much cleaner than I imagined. He turns around with a bag of coffee in his hand, smiling. “I got that coffee if you—” I stop him with a hurried kiss, and I pull back only to see his hungry-eyed expression.

Before I can even take another breath in, he quickly picks me up by my thighs, flipping me around until I feel myself fall against his kitchen counter. Everything is rushed and sloppy, in the best way possible. We’ve both been building this up for days, but tonight is the breaking point. We must give into our lust and all the primal passions we have to offer.

He rips off both of our shirts as I fumble for his belt. I pull it off and throw it around his waist, making sure he moves even closer. I unzip his jeans and I can already feel how hard he is as my hands graze over him.

“Yes,” he moans, a simple gesture.

His right hand moves across my tits, and he feels me gently, becoming freer every second as a man. I let him have his way with me. His left hand moves firm around my thighs, slowly falling toward my core. I’m wet, so fucking wet, and the excitement is throughout my very being. He cups my pussy, spreading me apart. Two fingers push inside me and I unleash a high-pitched moan of desire. He feels so fucking good.

He falls to his knees and kisses the inside of my thighs. “Finally,” he says, as if he’s been starving for me. “Finally, I can have you.”

Marshall’s tongue moves across my already wet lips with a confident assuredness I rarely ever get the chance to feel. His fingers arch up inside of me as if to say, “Come closer to me,” but we’re already as close as we can get. No, there’s a different type of closeness we wish to get to, a level of feeling that’s far too real. This man is much different than I am. We’re practically on the other ends of life’s spectrum. Yet, that’s what makes this feel like it needs to happen. It’s so wrong, of course life shoves us together.

He finally tastes me, kissing forward and licking in the opposite direction. He lets out a hungered groan. All his muscles flex for a second, tightening up. I wrap my legs around him and fall back against the cupboards above. “Fuck V,” he moans, unknowing that that’s the nickname my partners call me, how I’m known to all the bad seeds he so desperately wants to destroy.

When Marshall pushes over my clit, the feeling is unbearable. I grab the thick mass of his hair and pull, holding on and pressing him further. I push and I push, and he devours me, moving him back down over my lips. For a second, he pulls back and smiles, and I’m left shocked. I laugh a little, surprised by his little show. I thought he would be different. I had an image in my head that he only gave a shit about himself.

I bring him up, holding his hair and he’s still grinning wildly. We’re both drunk as hell, eager to taste one another, and now I’m obsessed with the thought of doing the wrong thing. “Come here,” I whisper. He comes forward and kisses me. I can taste myself now, mixed with his saliva and smooth tongue. His lips cup over mine, exaggerated and full. He grabs my ass and lifts me down, directing me toward his room.

Between the kissing and the touching, there’s the soothing feeling of complete satisfaction. He bends me over on his bed, practically worshipping me. It’s true: I love it. Who wouldn’t? He runs his hand from my lips, up to where the curve of my ass extends.

He smacks my cheek and smooths out the skin, examining me. “More,” I say. I’m not a prude. I love a good spanking. He smacks again and again. I turn my body and gently place my mouth around his cock. I push down deep and release, taking a huge air of breath. “More!” I say, a bit louder this time.

“You’re one dirty girl,” he says, eyes fixed on me. I smile, feeling good about myself. I love pleasing people more than I love getting pleased myself. Maybe that’s my biggest fault.

I slide my tongue over his head, down to his shaft, feeling his hard cock against the sides of my cheeks. I can taste him. He’s ready for me. I push away from him and fall against the bed, against my back. I spread my legs for him, slowly, but keep my hands against my pussy. He hovers over me and kisses my neck, and I remove each finger like a petal from a flower.

“Fuck me good,” I whisper.

“By the time I’m done with you, you won’t be able to see straight,” he says. “I’m going to make you have the most mind shattering orgasm you’ve ever had.”

I feel him press against my lips. Using my hands, I guide him inside me. We both feel the intense pressure, driven by sensual desire. He pushes me apart, sliding deep inside, and we both quickly unlock a door of darkness & light, just where we’ve always dreamed of being. He pushes his forehead against mine and our lips meet once more. His tongue moves against mine and we both share the hot air within our lungs.

“Fuck me, baby,” I moan, allowing him to do whatever he pleases. “Give it to me.”

I open my eyes and he presses up against my legs. He lifts my thighs up in the air, controlling my every move. Desperate for more, he pins me with my limbs. He contorts my body, shoving my thighs against my tits. He holds me down and he fucks the life out of me.

“You like it rough?” he asks me, smiling. His eyes are dark and they hold old truths, buried for decades. He wants me more than I know, I realize. He wants to be within every crevice, examine every curve, and worship every mode of pleasure.

“Yes!” I scream.

The air outside has turned a few degrees cooler, but inside, the air is hot and filled with steam. He rolls me onto my side and holds me right where my thigh meets my ass. He grips me like he means it. He holds me like there’s no tomorrow.

He groans and pulls his body back, thrusting himself inside of me. He reaches with his free hand and grabs my lower lips, where they curl around his cock. He presses them together and moves his hand up and down while he thrusts slow and deep.

“Jesus Christ,” I moan and close my eyes. He kisses my cheek and moves forward, closer now.

The pleasure is immense. While massaging my clit, he fucks powerfully. His shaft massages against my g-spot and I know that I’m about to let myself go. I don’t know what comes over me, but when I watch him, I imagine him naked. The only thing he’s wearing is his gun holster. I look at him and reach up, feeling his abs pulse as he pushes forward.

“I’m going to come,” I moan. “I’m going to—” But I can’t make out the words. Everything starts to shake and it’s almost like a bubble of electricity has burst inside of me. My whole body starts to quake. I fall on top of him, writhing against his body. He holds me still and whispers, “There we go, darling. There we go.”

I can’t stop. It comes in waves of shaking fits. Of course, this seems to get him going even more. He kisses my lips, hanging from my quivering mouth and whispers, “A beautiful angel… how did I get so damn lucky?”

I smile and I know he’s about to shoot his load. I push myself on top of him and press my hands against his chest. “Stay there,” I tell him. “Don’t move.” I begin moving my hips up and down. I twist my ass and feel him go deep inside of me.

“Oh, fuuuuck,” he draws the words out, like everything is about to come crashing down. “Keep… going…” His head falls back and I feel him cum deep inside of me.

But I don’t stop. He sighs because it feels too fucking good. He moans and shakes, twists and spasms. I’m too much of a woman for him and he knows it. Finally, I push my pussy down one more time and we kiss for at least a minute.

He takes multiple deep breaths when I climb off of him. “Who are you again?” he asks.

“I may play games,” I tell him, taking a swig of alcohol from the kitchen. “But I’m the best there is.”

Marshall

This is the worst thing that could happen to me. I meet the hottest woman on the planet and I’m knee deep in a huge case that seems like it may never end. Not to mention, I can’t stop feeling so damn good around her. It’s never been like that before for me. I’ve never really cared all that much. Still, part of me wonders if this can last forever. I’m bound to stop caring, right? But when she falls asleep next to me, I feel perfect, on top of the fucking world.

I wake up the next morning and roll over, expecting to feel her warm body next to mine. I take a deep breath in and smell her perfume. “You awake already?” I mumble, turning over.

She’s not there. She’s nowhere in fucking sight. “Shit,” I mumble. I check my phone. Nothing. No text. I climb out of bed, feeling my hangover creep up on me, and I look for a note. Of course, there’s none of that. That’s not how Virginia operates. If I’m being honest with myself, she’s selfish. End of fucking story. Hell, it’s not like I can really blame her. I can relate.

I stumble over to my coffee maker and pour a big serving into the top. I dump an unknown amount of water inside and press the button. “God,” I groan. “My fucking head.” I walk over to my massive bottle of ibuprofen and take about four. I can’t deal with the thought of going into work today, but we need to set up shop. In the next week, something big could happen and we need to be ready.

I hear Adam’s tires roll over the gravel outside, so I peek my head out the window and flip him off. He does the same and smiles. I’m not smiling. “Cheeky bastard,” I mumble. I walk outside, butt ass naked, like I always do. He shields his eyes, the pussy.

“God dammit! Put on some fucking clothes!” he yells.

“Go fuck yourself, Adam. I had a long night,” I tell him.

“What else is new?” he asks, carefully walking toward the house. I grab a dirty pair of jeans, an old undershirt, and my boots. I put everything on and rub my eyes awake. “You okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine,” I laugh. “Actually, I had the time of my life last night.”

“I figured as much,” he says. “That woman you’ve been seeing? You finally seal the deal?”

“I did more than seal the deal,” I say, remembering her hands dragging across my body, remembering how damn good she tasted.

“Well, I studied the bank’s layout last night, so when they hit it, you can thank me for knowing it front to back,” he says, sounding a little pretentious.

“Mhm,” I mumble. We walk to his car and he drives, blasting some terrible new country song.

“Turn it off,” I finally tell him. I only like that old stuff. The twang is what gets the heart moving. But it doesn’t matter. We’re already at the place.

“This is it,” he says, putting on his sunglasses. It’s a big bank, no doubt. We walk across the street, trying not to look too suspicious. Our car is unmarked and we’re not wearing any badges. That’s about as good as we can do around here. They’re bound to know exactly what we look like, so we take shelter in the bar across the street.

“What’re you having?” the waitress asks us, as if we’re some tourists she wants out as fast as she can.

“I’ll take a burger,” Adam says. “He’ll have the same.”

I nod and say, “And a whiskey coke, darling. If you please.”

Adam glances at me like I’m crazy to be drinking on the job, which annoys the hell out of me. “We’re going to be here for over 16 hours,” I say. “I really can’t have one drink?”

“Do whatever you want, officer,” he says.

I groan and keep my eyes steady on the bank. Of course, there’s nothing in sight. This whole town is fucking dead. In fact, it’s much emptier than I expected. It makes me start to think that maybe Adam has a real plan on this one. Maybe he’s going to put the case to rest.

“There’s no one in sight,” I say. “They’d have to be fools not to take advantage of this.”

Adam smiles big, like he’s won something. “See!” he nearly shouts. “I told you. Just wait. In the next couple of days, you’re going to have a couple thieves in your jail and we’ll both get promoted.”

The waitress brings Adam water, and sets the whiskey coke down on the table. “I can give a cheers to that,” I say, smiling. I’ve been eyeing that promotion since forever. It would be nice to finally get recognized for all that I’ve done. Maybe they’ll transfer me to a bigger city. I’ve always wanted to go down to Austin, or even Dallas.

In the back of my mind, however, is Virginia. I was trying not to call her or get her attention first. I figured, if she really wants to see me, she will. Though, after more than six hours pass, I grab my phone from my pocket and text her, feeling a little neglected.

“Round 2?” I type out. Round 2? Sounds like a fucking boxing fight. I delete it quickly. “How’s your morning?” I type out. Fuck. That sounds too desperate. I never have this problem with anyone. Most people act like I’m the man in this town, but not her. She acts like I’m just like anybody else.

It’s unreal how stupid a man can get when he comes in contact with one of the most gorgeous women he’s ever seen. In fact, when I think about it some more, I have to tell myself to calm down. This is stressing me out a bit too much.

So, I keep it simple. I type, “Hey Gorgeous. How’re you holding up?”

Adam sighs, glancing over at me. “What’s your problem?” I ask him.

“Nothing. It’s boring staking out. I thought it would be more action than this,” he says.

“Welcome to being a police officer,” I say.

I laugh a little and put my phone away. I glance in the binoculars, although the bank is close enough. Nothing. He’s right, this is boring as hell. I wonder if we’re getting anywhere at all with this. Part of me also wonders if I should just up and leave. I don’t want to give the wrong impression. I love this state. I love the town I protect. And of course, I love the people, as wild as they can be. I’m just like them. But, if I’m being honest with myself, it would be nice to get out of town for a while.

For a second there, I think about what it would be like. I don’t know, ending up in South America, or somewhere in Thailand… maybe it would be nice to just disappear with some woman by my side. There wouldn’t be any responsibilities. I wouldn’t have to answer to nobody. I wouldn’t have to do shit, except live a life. Hell, I could open a small business somewhere and make a fortune. ‘Course, I’m only dreaming. This is the only life that’s out there for me.

My phone vibrates and it shakes me out of my nice dream for a moment. I read the text message and it’s short and to the point. “I’m doing well. Let’s meet up tomorrow night. Your place again?”

Damn. This woman is already wanting more of this. Well, I’m going to have to give her what she wants.

“Tomorrow night it is,” I type. I laugh a little out loud. Shit, I’m excited. A man’s allowed to be excited. Adam, however, isn’t laughing. He’s just shaking his damn head.

“Quit lookin’ at me,” I say.

“I envy you, you bastard,” he says.

Virginia

“Vi-” I hear my name being called. “Vi!”

A rock hits my window. I look down and it’s the guys, Craig and Elroy. “Fucking idiots,” I hiss, jumping out of bed. Why are they here? Are they complete morons?

I run down and open the bottom gate, looking to the left and right. I make sure no one sees them, but you can never be too certain. I hurry them in, regardless, and lock the gate up. We walk upstairs and I slam the door shut, locking that too.

“What the fucking fuck!” I half-scream at them. “Are you insane?!”

Craig rolls his eyes. “We’re good. No one saw us. It’s still dark out,” he says.

“Barely,” I say. “Besides, that’s not the fucking point and you know it. We have to be extra careful now.”

“Why? Because you’re in bed with that cop?” Craig says, sitting down on my couch. For some reason, the sight of him doing that drives me crazy. I want him out and I want him to apologize now. Of course, he just smiles at me, looking all too smug.

“He’s our inside source,” I tell him. “I’ll find out some shit. You’ll see.”

“You better,” Elroy joins in, glancing at Craig. “I mean, the whole thing has been making us feel sick as hell. We don’t want to hit this bank if he’s going to be there waiting, guns ready.”

“He won’t,” I close my eyes and feel despair creep up into my body. How have I complicated things so much? I’ve let myself do the unthinkable. “I’m going to get him to tell me his plans. We’ll go from there.”

“We don’t have much time,” Craig reminds me. “So I thought we should go over this job. Most likely, we’re going to have to hit this one place regardless. If we have to switch it up last second, we’ll do it old school style. Fast.”

“Sounds good,” I nod.

My heart starts to race as he pulls out a blueprint. He points his fingers at each important spot, but it all moves in slow motion for me. I can’t think. I can barely even focus on my breathing. I just want out. That was the plan, to get the hell out of here. But here I am. Stuck. Nothing is ever as easy as it seems.

There’s always a catch and I’m stuck in the net.

“Got it,” I say, as he finishes up his speech. Elroy glances at me with a worried look.

“You sure? You’re good, Vi?” Elroy asks. Vi… It just reminds me of Marshall, the man I shouldn’t ever have talked to.

“I’m sure,” I say. “In and out, fast. We’ll hit it and take the back routes. The car sounds good. I think we’ll be fine.”

But I have no idea if we’ll be fine or not. In fact, I’ve got a feeling we’ll all end up in Marshall’s control, and not in the way I had hoped.

We hug goodbye and Elroy whispers, “I hope you still have some fight in you. We’re doing this because bankers rob the world every single day. They deserve it.”

“Yeah,” I mutter. “I know.”

I don’t care about that anymore. I shut the door and fall face first on the couch. Justice, right? It would be one thing if we were giving the money back to the people. That, I might understand. But we’re not doing anything like that. We’re taking it for our own gain. Somehow, that seems a bit selfish. It seems like we’re doing exactly what the banks do themselves. So, in turn, we’ve become the enemy we’ve always hated.

Great.

* * *

I somehow fell asleep for hours, even though I had a full night of sleep. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me. Probably stress. It’s Marshall’s call that wakes me up, actually. I answer, voice groggy and completely unsexy. “Marshall?” I say.

“Where you been?” he asks.

“What do you mean?” I ask. “What time is it?”

“It’s close to nine. I’ve only been calling you for the past two hours,” he says. He doesn’t sound angry though, so that’s good.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” I sigh. “I got up earlier, but I guess I ended up falling asleep. Give me 20 minutes and I’ll meet you at your place.”

“Sounds nice. I wish I could sleep through the day,” he says. “20 minutes is fine. Take your time. I’ll be here.”

“See you.” I hang up the phone and get ready quick.

I head out the front door, wearing some plain jeans and a t-shirt that cuts off around the stomach. I wanted to wear something a bit sexier, maybe classier, but I don’t have the time. Hopefully this outfit can get something out of him still.

I take a cab to his house, and when I’m about to pay, he comes jogging outside, shirtless, with some money in his hand. “Here ya go,” he says to the driver.

“Marshall, you don’t have to do that,” I weakly protest. Of course, he insists and I don’t really put up that much of a fight.

“Come on in,” he says, kissing my cheek. “Shit, I’m so excited. I’ve had the most boring two days of my life.”

It’s cute how excited he really is. I guess cops don’t really have the most exciting jobs in the world and part of me is starting to realize that maybe I misunderstood him a little. Maybe, deep down at least, he’s a really good guy. I mean, am I at all better than him? Probably not. I know Craig and Elroy aren’t.

“Tell me about your boring day,” I smile. “I want to hear all about it.”

“Really?” he laughs.

“Really!” I say, stepping inside his house. “I’m sure it’s more exciting than my last few days.”

Inside his house, it’s nicely put together, much nicer than my last visit. He’s really put in some effort, all for me, and I’m just using him for his information. I feel like a total asshole. Well, it’s not only about that for me. If he only wasn’t a cop, I could bring him with me. We could leave this stupid place together…

He sits down on his couch and smooths out a spot for me. “What do you do anyway?” he asks me. “You’ve got all this free time. You’re lucky.”

I look away for a brief moment and he catches me. I didn’t even think about preparing myself for a question like this. Shit. “I, uh…” I stutter. “I kind of did some questionable work for a while.” I look down, awkwardly. Sex work? Drugs? What kind of work am I even implying? It’s a bad lie.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he eyes me, curiously.

“Advertisement,” I laugh. A quick recovery. “It’s the most evil profession a person can get into. You’re wasting your time on the street criminals. You should be locking people like me up.”

He cracks up and jumps up from the couch, over to the bar area. “You got me there for a second!” he says. “My heart was racing.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” I say. My heart is racing. He points to the big selection of bottles. “Get me a vodka tonic?”

“Coming right up,” he says.

He pours the drinks and sits back down. “So you want to hear about my day?” he asks.

“I do.” I don’t even have to act interested. I am interested.

He leans back, looking pleased with himself. He puts his arm around me and pulls out his phone. He shows me a picture. It’s a picture of a bank, but not the bank we’re hitting. Already, I’m happy. “What is this? A bank? Did another one get robbed?” I ask him, playing dumb.

He laughs. “No, no. I wish another one would happen. I know it’s wrong, but we’re getting pretty stumped out there. I hate admitting that. But that’s how these things go.”

“So what’re you going to do? You’re staking this place out or something?” I ask him. He’s already given me too much. If he’s staying in one area, we’re good. We’re golden.

“Yes, ma’am. Until they hit some place else. Then, I guess it’s back to the drawing board. These things usually happen in threes,” he says, eyeing me to see if I’m impressed by the big task he’s got. I’m assuming he thinks he’ll win this battle and draw me in further. He’s wrong though. Very wrong. Before he knows it, I’ll be gone. I’ll be on the coast of Europe, drinking a glass of red wine, happy as can be. I can’t wait.

“Well, you have to catch the guys,” I say.

He gives me a long, hard, and serious stare. “Who said they were guys?” he asks me. I start to freak out, but he bursts out laughing. “Just kidding. Of course they’re guys. And we’ll catch them. We always do.”

I laugh alongside with him, but things aren’t sitting right for me. At least he thinks there’s going to be more jobs in the future. This is the only one though. None will come after. He’ll be sitting, waiting and twirling his thumbs.

“Hey, want to do something fun?” he asks me.

“I love a little fun,” I smile, biting my lower lip.

“Well come on, then. I figure we could use some excitement,” he says, taking me by the hand. He pulls me into his garage and turns on the light. Inside is an old motorcycle. “Want to ride?”

My eyes light up. “Whoa, I haven’t ridden one of these in years!” I exclaim. I haven’t since I was a kid. It’s kind of a coincidence, really. The other day I was thinking a motorcycle might make a perfect getaway vehicle.

“Hop on,” he says, getting on himself. He pushes the garage door open with a button. “And don’t forget to hold on tight, honey.”

My hands grip tightly around his pecs, slowly moving downwards. I feel his tight abs and close my eyes, pressing my face against his shoulder. Before I know it, we’re flying out of the garage, going at least 80 on some neighborhood streets. He’s speeding around some turns and definitely breaking the law, and he’s scaring me to death.

But I like seeing him like this. He screams against the wind, something cheesy like “yee-haw,” and I find myself doing it right after him, because in this moment we’re nothing that we’ve built ourselves up to be. We’re just living. We’re free. In the end, this is what we should be, I think to myself. Again, I fall against his shoulder and feel the solid heartbeat of this man who could end my freedom any second. And even though this is the sad truth of things, I feel okay about it. Anyway, I’m not as hung up about it in the moment.

We turn off onto a dusty trail and it gets a little rough, so I’m forced to hold on tighter. “Almost there,” he says. I can’t stop fucking smiling. This is it. The highest I’ll feel until I’m where I need to be. I know it. The trail starts to climb and we’re face to face with a steep edge of a mountain. We keep going until we turn around at the very top.

“Here, at last,” he smiles, a little out of breath. He turns the bike off and gets off.

“That drive was a little unexpected,” I laugh, fixing my hair.

He completely ignores me in the most charming way, that it almost makes me sick. “You’re so damn beautiful,” he says, reclaiming the air in his lungs. He looks confident, and a little bit somber, which hits me hard. Of course, I fall. I fall harder than he does. When he runs his hands above my ear and through my hair, I glance away for a second, only to feel my chest sink with emotions.

“You’re just saying that,” I tell him. I don’t know what else to say. It can’t be. We can’t be “a thing.” It’s just not in our cards.

“Only, I’m not. This is real. This isn’t a dream. You’re here in front of me and we can do anything our hearts desire,” he says, full of hope and wonder. It’s inspiring. It’s uplifting. It’s everything every girl in the world dreams about. But what am I going to do about it?

“I wish that was true,” I say.

He gets down on his knees, covering himself in dirt. “What do you want me to do to get you to react like a human being?” he asks. If he wasn’t right in his assessment of me, I would be offended. “Just be here with me. For one night, at least.”

“Okay,” I say, tears filling my eyes. I hold them open so they don’t splash out onto my face. I don’t want him to know how pained I am. I don’t ever want him to know the decision I’m going to have to make. It’s not fair, but it is my fault. And sometimes you have to live with the choices you make.

“Tonight is our night,” I smile, feeling the tears disappear. I can smile again, even if it comes from a different place. Tonight, I’ll have to play the part. Tonight, we’ll be lovers as if this night were forever.

He kisses my jeans and I do him a favor and unbutton the top button. He looks at me, not smiling anymore, and unbuttons the rest of them with his teeth. I feel my lower body grow warm. All of the blood in my body floods downwards. “Yes,” I moan. “Oh, God, yes.”

I feel so… invested in this. All of my emotions are just there. Right now, I’m his, and it’s not just some drunken hookup. He’s not just some guy at the bar. I know it’s so soon, but we have an unshakeable bond together, and I don’t care how wrong that is or how short-lived it might be. This night will live on in my memories.

He pulls my jeans down as I throw my heels to the dirt. Soon enough, all my clothes are off and he leans me against a boulder. I feel the slight heat from the day still radiating from the rock as it pushes against my ass and back. I spread my legs aside as he slides his tongue against me. This time, he’s not trying to please me. He’s not “going with the motions.” He’s just enjoying me.

When I look down at him, it truly looks like he was born to do this. His tongue falls flat and wide and covers every single part of me. Every fold gets engulfed as he swipes up and down. Then, when I feel a slight tinge of electricity start to build inside of me, he goes further.

Not only does he fit three fingers firmly inside, pushing them in and out in the most sensual manner, he also begins sucking away. He sucks and pulls back like a suction cup. Every now and then, he lets go and looks up at me with those deep, masculine eyes, whispering, “This is what you want. Isn’t it? You want more of this, don’t you?”

There’s no question about it. I do. I just nod and let my head fall back. Up in the sky, the stars are shining bright. The air is much cooler up here, but my body is heating up by the second. All around us are the sounds of desert life, humming their song. And when he curls his fingers against that soft spot of mine, I howl like a fucking coyote.

“OHHHH!” I scream. “Yeeeesssss!”

I convulse and he just picks up speed. My mind is racing and I’m dizzy with pleasure. He picks me up off that rock with all his strength and power, and sets me down onto his lap. His cock goes right inside of me.

He starts pounding me, back against the rock, as my body continues to spasm. I look at his eyes and he kisses me. “Keep looking at me,” he whispers. “Just like that. Don’t look away.”

He grabs my face and I smile, so fucking turned on by him. He’s revealing everything he likes. He’s deep. He’s nothing like I thought he was. “Oh, Marshall,” I whisper back. “You fuck me so good.”

He nearly dies. He lets out of a deep sound, almost like a lion roar, and holds me close to him. “Don’t you dare let me go,” I say. “Keep cumming for me, baby.”

I can feel his cock expanding and contracting inside of me. Slowly, it inches its way back to its normal self. He presses his cheek against mine and we’re both gasping for air. At the bottom of the trail, we can hear hikers, which makes us both laugh.

“Fuck, you’re hot,” I say. “Where’d you learn to fuck like that, Mister? Surely, not the Police Academy.”

We both grab our clothing quickly and get back on the bike. He’s laughing and feeling good about himself. I’m doing exactly the same. “Hell no. Most of those guys are fools with women. I guess they don’t get paid enough to care about eating pussy, right?” He laughs some more. “I just found a woman whose taste, looks, and wild personality I can’t get out of my mind. It’s bad, woman.”

I place my head against his shoulder again and close my eyes. God dammit. Why does the heart have to be so complicated? I guess other girls don’t have this problem because they make normal choices, or maybe they just had some better chances in this life.

Either way, I can’t reflect on it too much because I’ve already decided on something. Tonight, I’m going to spend the night.

Marshall

I’m used to the blurry alcoholic nights. The ones where you stumble and puke, and fuck and fight, until you find yourself laying down face first in a ditch. Yeah, I’m used to that kind of shit. I actually thought that kind of thing was fun for a while. That is, until I met my Virginia.

She’s sweeter than sugar, softer than vanilla ice cream, and spicier than panaeng curry. Of course, I’m feeling pretty blessed right now. In fact, I couldn’t even get to sleep last night because I was too exhilarated from the night before. There’s so much shit I want to do with this girl now. I have this weird feeling like I need to tell her all my wildest dreams. She makes me want to live. I ain’t ever had that kind of a feeling before.

It’s scary as hell, but sometimes you have to jump right now. If she ends up hurting me, so be it. Everything that happens in life, happens for a reason. There’s nothing different about this.

When I wake up, I expect her to be gone. I expect that the warm body that I feel underneath my arms is nothing more than a pillow that she switched from under me. But I press my body forward and I feel her ass against my cock, and it’s confirmed: she’s still here. I kiss her back and smell her again, like a breath of fresh air.

“Mm, I could get used to this,” I say. I kiss her cheek and crawl on top of her, opening my eyes. She presses her ass up against me some more.

“Then get used to it, big boy. Show me what you’ve got,” she says, sleepy, but clearly horny.

I push myself inside and immediately feel her warmth. I grab her tits and hold them firm in my hands. I push in and out, in and out, until finally, I cum.

“That was quick,” she laughs, jumping out of bed. I slap her ass before she can get away.

“I gotta go to work, dammit. Last day on the stakeout,” I tell her. I shouldn’t be telling her any of this shit. But she’s so far away from this case that I doubt it even matters. Though, if Adam knew I was telling any woman our information, he’d have me fired in an instant. The bastard. Of course he’d do me in.

I hear the sink running and finally she comes out. “That’s fine,” she says, smiling big. She pounces on me like a cat and kisses my lips, covering me in her hair. “I have to visit some friends, anyway.”

“Friends?” I ask her. “When are you going to invite me out with them?”

“I don’t know if you’d get along,” she says, jumping back off and grabbing her clothes.

“Why, ‘cause I’m a cop?” I start to get a little annoyed and a little hurt.

“Exactly,” she laughs.

“What the hell is everyone’s problem with us?” I bark. “It’s like the world’s turned on all of us now. I don’t get it.”

“You ruin people’s fun.” She shrugs, cold as ice. “Not you. Calm down, Marshall. You’re different, of course. I’m just saying. If there’s something exciting happening in this country, there’s usually some police there bringing people down a notch.”

I groan, but don’t actually say anything. She’s probably right, anyway. When’s the last time I went to a party? She’s younger than me. She knows what it’s like. I’m so outside of the spectrum, it’s crazy. But why can’t people just wait to go to a good bar, and relax?

“Last night was perfect,” she says, with honest eyes. She still looks stunning. “Let’s do it again soon. Please.”

“Just call me when you’re free,” I say. She kisses me again and then messes up my hair.

“Bye, Marshall.”

“Bye.” The door closes. “Baby...”

* * *

Back in Adam’s car, back to this stakeout business, I feel my boredom start to kick in again. “You think this is it?” I ask him, eyeing him carefully. “Is this the big day?”

He smiles, looking cocky. He pulls off to the side and parks near the old bar we’ve been racking up a bill in. “This is our big day,” he says. “I can feel it.”

“Good,” I say. “It’s good to feel things every now and then.”

“You don’t think I’m right do you?” he asks. “You think I’m going to fuck this up. I may be newer than you, but I know a thing or two about criminals. I studied them in college.”

He makes me laugh. Every time he speaks, he reveals a whole new part of himself that I’ve never heard before. “College?” I look at him.

“Yes, sir. Four years at the University down here,” he says, proud of his achievements. I suppose he should be in a way. “Criminal Psychology. It was difficult, but I came out with a real understanding of the criminal mind.”

“Oh, come on, Adam. You came out with your head in your ass, from too much partying. Don’t try to talk to me about college. You don’t fully understand the criminal mind until you’ve lived with criminals. Not until you’ve been subject to their bullshit, day in and day out, do you understand what kind of people they are,” I say. I motion for the lady to come over so we can order some steaks and a drink. “Besides, these are bank robbers. This ain’t some Silence of the Lambs type of shit.”

“How you doing, sweeties?” the waitress asks us.

Adam groans. I take the liberty to respond nicely. “Well, we’re doing pretty good over here, only my friend and I have a bet we’d like you to settle,” I say.

“A bet?” her eyebrows begin to rise. She’s intrigued. “What kind of a bet?”

“Well, my partner here said he thought you were around 40,” I begin to say. Adam looks mortified. I love playing games with him. He’s so sensitive. I continue, “But I was saying you must be only about 29. Which one us is right?”

“Oh you!” she slaps my arm with the menu and I laugh friendly with her. “I’m 57. You’re both wrong. You owe me a drink!”

“Ha!” I slap the table. “A drink it is, honey.”

“What’re you having?” she asks.

“Two steaks. Medium rare. Two beers. Uncooked please,” I wink.

“Coming right up,” she smiles.

“You always gotta drink, don’t you?” he shakes his head.

Just before I can shrug, my damn radio goes off and it’s not sounding good. “God damn!” one officer yells. “They got it guys, pursuit in process.”

I grab the radio and call in. “Don’t let them out of your sights, dammit!”

“Female in pursuit. I repeat, female in pursuit!” the radio beckons. A female? Well, I’ll be…

“Sorry honey, we gotta get out of here. Here’s some cash for you. Thank you, kindly,” I say, running out of the bar. I turn to Adam who looks completely shocked and say, “You owe me two steaks and two beers, dumbass.”

Virginia

“Pull over!” a rickety, old police car yells on the megaphone behind me. I’ve got this feeling of absolute uncertainty right now. I opted for the motorcycle. I found one that worked at the junk yard, one that could do the job and could be destroyed right after.

But now, I realize it’s only put a target on me, and not my partners, who opted for a faster car. Figures. But there are some tight alleyways up ahead. I know them like the back of my hand. I just have to make it over there in time.

“No cops in sight,” Craig announced as we arrived on the scene. He didn’t think they’d respond as fast as they did. I kept screaming at him, “In and out, in and out!” But it didn’t matter. Things were going wrong. People weren’t getting down fast enough. The bank tellers weren’t playing by the rules. This usually doesn’t happen, but in Texas, you never know how people are going to react. There are a lot of heroes in this state.

“Pull over! You’re under arrest!” the car says again, completely robotic. It makes me hate the state more. But then I think of Marshall. Is he on his way to find me? What will he do if he sees my ass on this motorcycle? Will he know it’s me? Will he protect me? He sure as hell wouldn’t. It would break his damn heart.

Sirens sound in the distance. I can hear them coming closer. I flip off the car behind me and rev my engine faster, nearly sliding my bike on the ground to make a 90 degree turn into that familiar alley way. I used to play in this alley and now I’m running from the cops in it. Up ahead, there’s another set of alleys, and another after that. It’s endless over here, and us poor people know it fucking well.

I make a series of turns and finally, I stop. I get off the bike and head out on foot. I climb a fence and jump over, falling on the dirt. I pick myself back up and look around. I’m near my place now, but I can hear the helicopters coming. I reach my gate and slide the key in. I run up the long set of stairs, but I don’t go inside. I look out from the bars of the balcony. The cops’ lights are moving in the opposite direction now. They haven’t got a clue. I’m safe for now.

When the sirens finally shut off and the lights disappear, I slam my fist against the wall of my apartment and scream. “Fuck!” That’s the closest I’ve ever been being locked up before. I mean, before this, I wasn’t an angel. No “poor” kid is, they say, but that’s only because you want certain things like food, or a nice blanket, or jacket to keep you warm when it turns winter. I mean, my parents probably could have afforded those things, but asking them meant screaming. It meant they wouldn’t be allowed to buy their lottery ticket or third cigarette pack for the day.

I pace around the room and I don’t know what to do. Are the guys okay? I mean, are we going to get away with all of this? There’s no way to get ahold of them now. I’ll just have to play the waiting game. I don’t even have a TV, so I turn on the radio in my bedroom and listen.

“There may be a possible suspect in police custody as we speak, Jen…” A news reporter says this one sentence and I immediately run to the bathroom to vomit. I deserve it, of course. We robbed a fucking bank. Two fucking banks! How did I not think this would happen?

Part of me thought it would happen, but the other half thought we could win this one. My only concern is with who they’ve taken in. If it’s actually Craig or Elroy, I think the game is over. Shit, if it’s Craig, I’ll feel a little better. He’s got a tight lid on his mouth. As for Elroy, well, I think he’s got a good heart. He definitely likes me enough not to say my name, but he’s also weak. It wouldn’t be long before they convinced him he’d get a better deal if he got all of us in there with him.

Fuck.

I glance at my phone. It’s sitting next to my unloaded gun and bag of money. There was never any intention of using that gun. It’s just for show. I couldn’t stomach killing anyone, nor would I want to. I’m not that kind of bad.

There hasn’t been any activity on my phone, which I guess could be considered good or bad. Stupid or not, I pick up the phone and dial Marshall’s number, using my app that encrypts my number, as always. “Can’t talk right now. Pretty fucking busy,” he says, voice gruff and angered.

“Sorry. I just heard about the robbery. Did you get the guys? I’ve been rooting for you,” I say, trying to get some answers out of the guy.

“I told you, I can’t talk right now,” he says.

“Oh, I’m sor—” I start to apologize.

“See you,” he says, hanging up the phone.

My heart is fucking racing, but most of all, I’m thrown into a deep despair. Everything is going to be ruined. My chances of getting out of here, my freedom, and I’ll never be able to see Marshall again.

Everything is done for and I’m a wreck.

Marshall

I was pretty mean to Vi on the phone just now, I guess. I’m going to have to make it up to her, but if she only knew the kind of shit we just went through, she’d surely understand.

The stakes were high, so I made Adam get in the passenger’s seat. There was no way I was going to let him fuck anything else up. I knew they weren’t going to hit that bank. It was too obvious of a pick. I knew exactly which way to head.

At first, we had an officer that was chasing a young female on a motorcycle, young, fairly fit, maybe 5’ 6”. I’m surprised by the news because women aren’t usually the type of people who rob banks. No offense to women, of course. It just rarely happens. But I wasn’t interested in grabbing her just yet. I figure, if we get the other guys, she’ll come without putting up a fight.

So, we went after them. Only, we couldn’t fucking find them. Turns out, the guy was too slow in getting into the escape vehicle. When he dropped some cash and went back to grab it, his friend left him. Now, we have our key.

“Fucking hell, boys! We did it! We’ve gotten one step closer to solving this thing!” I burst into the front room of the police station with a giant Champagne bottle in my hand. I open it and out comes giant spurts of wine. Everyone holds their glasses below it, hollering away.

“Yeah, well, if you didn’t trust in me, this whole thing would have been solved today. I fucked it all up,” Adam scowls.

“Nonsense,” I laugh. “It doesn’t matter. We got one. We’ll get them all soon enough. Remember what I said when this whole thing first went down?”

“Sure do, sir. It takes a couple to understand the pattern,” he says. I nod.

“It sounds better how you said it, but that’s exactly the point,” I smile. “They’re fucking done. And soon enough, that girl and the other guy will be thrown in jail for a long ass time.”

“Damn right.” Gary, a cop of 12 years nods his head in solid agreement.

“Now, let’s finish our drinks and interrogate the poor bastard. He seems a bit frightened,” I laugh loudly and chug my cup of champagne. When I’m finished with it, I sigh and throw it against the wall. It falls right in the trash.

“Game faces,” I say, walking toward the interrogation room.

I knock on the door and open it. Adam and I walk in and sit down. “Elroy, how you doing?” Adam says, sounding very calm, like he’s going to be the one who helps him out on this.

“I need a lawyer,” he says.

“Well, I hear you, but there’s no lawyers around at this moment. It’s getting too late in the day and everyone has gone home,” he says. Tears stream down Elroy’s face. “But come tomorrow, we’ll get you that lawyer. Don’t you worry.”

“Alright,” he nods. “I understand.”

“Right now, we just need to ask you a few questions. It’s standard protocol, really. You don’t need to be worried, but mind your answers because they could be used in court,” he says.

The kid gulps down. “In court? Shouldn’t I—”

This is where I come in. I get out of my chair and place my foot on top, leaning forward. “Look, I already know what you’re going to ask because we hear it on a daily basis, kid. If you get a lawyer, all deals go out the window. That’s just how it’s gotta be. Right now is your chance,” I tell him. “If you don’t tell us some things fast, the years are going to start adding up for you.”

The kid nods and closes his eyes for a few seconds, taking it all in. It’s as if he’s dizzy. I’ve heard that that happens sometimes. You immediately become confused and wonder, “how the hell did I get here? What did I do?” when you know deep in your heart exactly what you did.

“You made a conscious effort to rob two banks,” I say. “You realize that?”

“I do,” he says.

“You committed two federal crimes. That’s as huge as you can go, big boy,” I say, taking my foot off the table. I pace around the room until I’m behind him now. “Two. That’s a prison sentence you can’t undo. A jury is going to put you behind bars for nearly your whole life. When you get out, you’ll have nothing. No job. No wife. No kids. Hell, your parents won’t even be alive. You’ll be all alone. Then what? Did you even think about that?”

“I did not,” he says, starting to shake. I hate doing this interrogation business. I hate making them feel like shit. I know how dismal it all feels. I know how it makes me feel at night. The guilt. The shame. But I know it needs to be done. There’s the law and people need to follow it.

“Do you wish you could take it all back?” Adam asks, calm and gentle-like.

“Yes, sirs. I do. There’s nothing I wish for more right now,” he says, crying. He hangs his head and sobs as the tears start flowing.

“Shit, I just want to lock you up right now. I want you to pay for what you’ve done,” I say, playing the bad cop part up pretty damn high.

Now is Adam’s turn to soften the blow of all this. I need him to offer the plea deal that’ll get this guy’s friends out of hiding. I already know it’s going to work because of how he’s reacting.

“Stop it, Marshall. Can’t you see you’re scaring the boy?” Adam asks, standing up and facing me, like he’s angry with me. Elroy looks up and analyzes this odd exchange and his tears suddenly stop. Yes, there’s someone to his defense.

“Well, he committed a federal crime, Adam. What do you want me to do? Let him go?” I ask him. It’s almost as if Elroy is waiting for him to answer me “yes.” “You want me to just tell the boy that everything is alright now?”

“I want you to lighten up,” he says. “He’s not a criminal. Any sane person can see that. He’s a nice, young man. Hard working, probably. You can tell he just got mixed up into some shit. Hell, I did at his age too. I got into some real bad trouble. I just didn’t get caught.”

I back off and put my hands up. “Fine. You handle this shit. I can’t do it,” I say. I walk out of the room, allowing all of the tension to leave there with me.

The cops outside lightly clap and laugh a little when I’m outside of the room. They’ve been watching the little show on the monitors this whole time. I laugh with them and join them at the monitors, pouring myself another glass of that champagne.

“Watch as the guy folds all his cards. We’ve got this, boys,” I whisper. “We’ve got this.”

Adam sighs and sits back down. He throws a set of keys on the table so that Elroy can give his wrists some rest. “Here,” he says. “You don’t deserved to be all chained up, man. I’m sorry about him. He’s a little bit of a loose cannon some times.”

“A lot of cops are like that,” he says.

Adam laughs and lights up a cigarette. He doesn’t even smoke, but he’s giving the kid the illusion that they’re friends or something. “Want one?” he asks, tossing the pack his way.

“Sure.” He lights up and leans back. After a few quick and shaky drags, he asks, “So am I done for? Am I going to go away for life?”

“You could,” Adam admits. “Or you can play ball. It’s really your choice. You kind of remind me of myself. I don’t want to see you go down the wrong path. You’ve got a lot to live for. There’s so much more to be done, isn’t there?”

“I’d like to do so much more,” he says.

“Like what? Tell me?” Adam asks.

“Like, go to Europe. Like meet someone beautiful. Start a family. I’d like to live my life. Right now that sounds pretty good,” he says. “The only reason I even helped them rob that stupid bank was because it was enough money to pay my debt and leave this country. I thought I had found a way out. Now, I’m fucked.”

“You ain’t fucked,” Adam says, hitting the ash onto the table, like it’s normal. “You have options. Take our deal.”

“What’s the deal?” he asks.

“I’ll be right back,” Adam smiles.

Virginia

I wake up from a horrible nightmare. Nothing is right. Everything feels dreamlike in the worst way. It’s like I’m floating in space, but there’s no tether to keep me grounded. It’s just endless floating, endless blackness. Endless death. I look for my space suit, but there’s nothing on my body. That’s when I realize that I can’t breathe.

I wake up, choking on air. I grasp at my throat. “No!” I scream, sucking in air, but it feels like it’s not going in my body. Finally, I’m fully awake and I can breathe, although it’s panicked. “Whoa, whoa!” a deep voice says. I turn and there’s Marshall. “You okay?”

“What the fuck!” I scream. “Where am I? Am I at home?”

“You’re at my place,” he says, running his hands down my back to calm me down. He holds me close and I can feel his steady heartbeat. It is calming…

“How did I get here?” I ask, grasping at straws. I’m so fucking confused.

“You came over last night. You said you couldn’t sleep. Don’t you remember?” he asks, looking very concerned at me.

“Oh.” I finally remember now. All of last night’s memories trickle in. That’s right. He called me after the interrogation process. I asked to come over so I could learn more, but I must have fallen asleep pretty damn fast.

“I remember,” I say, nodding. “Sorry, I just had a nightmare or something. Jesus.”

“What happened?” he asks me. “You feeling okay?”

“Yeah, it was just like… I couldn’t breathe. Not sure what that was about,” I say, closing my eyes again and falling back on the bed. It’s light outside. My guess is that we slept in a bit.

“Vi, I’m sorry. You need anything, a Xanax or something?” he smiles a little.

“You just carry Xanax with you?” I ask him.

“You never know when you might need one,” he shrugs.

“Bad cop. Bad,” I mumble.

“It’s harmless,” he says. “Here, I’ll just get you some water. Sound good?”

“Sounds great,” I say, pushing myself out of bed as well.

“I think we’re getting somewhere with this guy,” he says to me. He hands me a glass of ice-cold water and it feels good as it hits the back of my throat. Still, there’s no taste in my mouth. I feel so numb.

“What do you mean? You think you’re getting closer to getting the other two?” I ask.

“We gave him 48 hours to sign the deal. If he signs, he’ll get 5-10 years maximum,” he says, smiling.

“And if he doesn’t?” I ask, knowing that Elroy is weak. He’ll probably take the fucking deal. I need to come up with a better plan. I need to keep aware.

“Ha, if he doesn’t… well, he’ll be locked away for a long time. Nearly his whole damn life. They all took a hell of a lot of money,” he says. “It’s a federal crime. You don’t fuck with the government, especially not in the state of Texas.”

“He’ll take the deal,” I suddenly say.

“What makes you so sure?” he asks me, looking at me carefully.

“Why wouldn’t he?” I ask him. “Wouldn’t you?”

“Depends on how much money I had,” he laughs. “If I had a rich family, I’d tell them to get me a good lawyer. I’m not a snitch. I couldn’t give a partner’s life up that easy.”

“Hm,” I shuffle and sit back down. “Well, it’s kind of exciting isn’t it?”

“It is,” he smiles again. “But it’s almost over.”

“What’ll happen to the rest of them?” I ask, feeling the pain in my stomach start to grow. I’m fucked. I’m done for. And after Marshall’s heart breaks into a million pieces, he’ll ask for the harshest sentence on me.

“No deal for them. We’ve asked them to come forward plenty of times on the news. They had their chance. They’ll go away until they’re old and wrinkly,” he says.

“Seems kind of… harsh,” I admit.

“The law is pretty harsh sometimes,” he agrees. “That’s why you don’t break it.”

He makes me sick. “Let me lose myself in you,” he says, not too long after, as he looks into my eyes. I blush, but I don’t feel that way about him right now. Every fucking time I look at him, I feel disgusted. I feel hopeless. How could I let him touch me now?

“I don’t feel that good,” I tell him. “I’m fine to stay, but I’m having some issues.”

“Period?” he asks, the dumbass.

“Yeah,” I frown. “Takes a lot out of me.”

“I don’t mind it,” he says, putting his hand on my leg. I close my eyes with annoyance.

“Well, I do.” I move his hand away. “Sorry, I’m just really not in the mood.”

“What the hell did I do?” he asks, pacing around the room, showing his true cop behavior. “Do I deserve this? All I’ve done is be nice to you.”

Yes, you do deserve this, asshole. You’ve ruined everything. All my plans are now fucked because of you. “That doesn’t mean you get to do anything you want, you know,” I say, standing up.

He groans loudly. “Cool,” he says. “I see how it is. So you’re just going to be in one your moods again. Fucking great.”

“You know what? You’re a real asshole sometimes, Marshall. I think I’m going to take off. For good,” I say, feeling light headed. I need to be by myself. I need to get the fuck away from him for a while.

“Great! I hope you leave. I hope we never even speak again,” he says.

“Okay then,” I find myself reaching for his door handle. He walks after me and touches my arm. “Don’t you touch me,” I say, instinctually. “I need to leave. Now.”

“Fine,” he relaxes his hands. He wasn’t going to hurt me. I know that. But I need to leave and he needs to let me. “Sorry,” he says.

“Bye, Marshall,” I mutter, closing the door gently. Now begins the road to the end of life as I know it.

Marshall

“It’s the end of the world as we know it…” The radio wakes me up, blaring in my ears. “What the fuck?” I mutter, hitting it three times, until it finally shuts off.

I slowly open my eyes and then every shitty fucking memory starts to flood back into my brain. All the things we said to each other last night. Vi… My Vi. Gone for good.

I know I fucked up, but I don’t understand why she turns off all of the time. It’s like one second she’s into me, and the next, she hates my guts. I really don’t get it. But still, I shouldn’t have pressured her into anything. If she didn’t want to be close to me, I should understand. Women generally have their reasons. I’ve lived long enough to know that.

Anyway, it’s probably for the best. This whole week is going to be huge for the department and I’m going to need to keep my head straight. I can’t keep letting women fuck with my thought process. I’ll end up losing my job.

I glance over at the dresser in my closet. On the top is the woman’s pantyhose from the first crime scene. We know now that there’s a women involved and she’s one of the bank robbers. Who knows, maybe she’s the top girl in all of this. I laugh to myself as I walk up to the piece of fabric.

It would be funny, I start to think wildly, if the girl involved was Vi. Virginia, the bank robber. That would be good. I mean, she’s tough enough. Still, I can’t imagine her holding a pistol, while telling everyone to get on the ground. I shake off the thought because it’s too imaginary. The woman who did this is hiding away, no doubt.

She’s not stupid. Hence, the reason why she split up from the men. She knew there was something weird going on between them. The one constant in all of this is the lack of loyalty. Well, that’s how criminals tend to behave. It’s a selfish sport, really. And when the going gets tough, we see friends selling each other out all of the time. It’s pathetic.

I get to the station in a hurry. I want this plea deal done and signed. He’s got 24 hours left on it, but I want him to know the consequences. This is a big fucking decision, alright.

“He’s still mulling everything over,” Adam says, looking concerned. “He keeps saying he needs a lawyer. It never ends with this guy.”

“A lawyer? Is he completely ignorant? The man robbed two banks and got caught red handed, with the cash in his hands. There’s no way a lawyer is going to get him less time,” I tell him.

“He says his family’s got money. Says they have a family lawyer ready,” he tells me.

“Shit,” I sigh, eying the coffee in the corner of the room. I walk over and pour myself a cup and think for a second. I need to wake up before I make any decisions. “Well, does his story check out? Who’s his family?”

Adam frowns. “You know the Olington’s?” he asks me.

“The tire people? Olington fucking tires?” I nearly spit out my coffee.

“They do everything auto-related now,” Adam informs me.

“Yeah, big fucking deal. They’ve got a small franchise,” I say. “So what?”

“His direct family owns the company,” he says. “They’ve got a pretty damn good defense team over there.”

“And they’re used to handling cases like these?” I ask. “Give me a fucking break.”

He shrugs. “They’re used to the court circuit. They’ve got a lot of friends in this town. You know how far a couple of friends can get you in this city,” he says. “I wouldn’t shrug any of this off. It’s not sounding too good.”

“A bank robber!” I scream, slamming my coffee mug against the wall. It shatters and coffee splatters across the paint. Everyone is staring at me. “A fucking bank robber! This is ludicrous. This is…”

“Calm down, sir,” Adam says. Then, he lowers his voice and brings me over to the opposite corner of the room, waving at everyone to let everybody know that everything is okay. “Between you and me, the department is getting worried about you. They’re starting to say things.”

“What kind of things? I’ve been with this department before you even knew you wanted to be a cop. How could they turn their backs on me?” I ask, with malice.

“I didn’t say I was saying anything,” he says. “I just wanted to let you know because I am on your side. I want you to handle this case, but you can’t be having anymore outbursts like that or people are going to say some shit.”

“Alright. Point taken,” I calm myself down. “What do you think we should do?”

“We keep pressuring him. We start to ask deeper questions,” he says.

“Alright. Well, I’m going in,” I tell him, walking ahead. I open the door and Adam follows me in, sighing loudly.

“Good morning, Elroy,” I say. “How’s our favorite guy at the station doing today?”

“I’m not talking to you.” He’s defiant already. I nearly turn red.

“I hear you, man. I heard you had a change of heart,” I say. “But I need to ask you. Why?”

“Because I’m no fool. I know who I am. I know what I’m worth. And that’s the biggest weapon I have right now. Knowing that I can get out without ratting out my friends can at least help me sleep at night,” he says.

“That’s admirable. Real admirable,” I laugh. “It doesn’t change the fact that we have you on tape admitting guilt to a federal crime. You can’t escape that, brother. I’m sorry. You’re going to prison.”

“I’ll take my chances,” he says, crossing his arms.

He’s called our bluff, which is highly unusual. Usually, a criminal plays his role well. He knows he’s been caught and he takes the damn deal. But this guy has a small amount of power in this town, and in small towns, that means a lot. I need to start asking more poignant questions. I need to get the rest of the people involved. Once they’re all here, they’ll surely turn on each other.

“Where’s the girl?” I ask him, straight up with no games attached. “Where is she?”

“Who said there was a girl? No girl can rob a bank, man,” he says.

“We chased down a female on a motorcycle,” Adam says. “We know that there’s one male and one female. Don’t bullshit us on that, Elroy.”

“Alright, there’s a woman. Fine. I won’t say anything about that, except for the fact that she’s smart. She’s already outsmarted all of you fools,” he says.

This hits me. I don’t know why, but it does. It means that she’s up to something big. I’m just not sure what that big thing is yet. “Outsmarted us? How?” I ask him.

“I ain’t saying shit, man,” he smiles.

“What the fuck are you saying, Elroy?” I ask again. “How is she outsmarting us? Where did she go? What is she up to?”

“Fuck you.” He spits with full force at my face.

Of course, I fucking lose it. I dive across the table, in an attempt to choke him out. Adam has to come in and defend me, while also defending that criminal. It’s all fucking messy and at the end of it, the whole squadron rushes in to break up the fight.

The captain walks in, no sooner than two seconds after, and screams, “Marshall! You’re off the case. Get the hell out of this interrogation room and collect your things.”

“Sir, he attacked me,” I say. “He spit directly at me. You saw him.”

“Suspension. Three days. Get your things, Marshall. Did you fucking hear me?” he says, all in front of the criminal.

“Get your things, Marshall,” Elroy laughs.

I make one last struggle to get the guy, but it’s no use. They’ve got me held fucking down.

“Alright,” I say. “Let me go. I’m getting my shit and going home.”

The whole thing makes me sick.

Marshall

Ever since I met that woman, my life has gone to shit. It’s like she’s put a curse on me and is enjoying watching me fall. I’m hopeless, but this bottle of whiskey helps me deal with all of the bullshit that’s been flung in my direction. Fuck it all, I keep thinking.

And then my phone rings. I glance down and I see her name. “Virginia.” Vi. God dammit. I answer the phone and mutter, “What do you want?” I’m bitter. I’m an asshole and the world should hate me. I’m going to make them hate me.

“I’m just calling to check in on you,” she says. Her voice is soft and sweet. She sounds… nice.

“Why you doing that?” I ask. “I thought you hated me.”

“Marshall, I don’t hate you at all,” she says. “I just needed some space the other day.”

“Fine,” I groan.

“Anyway, I heard on the radio the other day that you got suspended,” she says. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” I mumble. “I guess we don’t have as much on the suspect as I thought.”

“Uh, didn’t you catch him in the act of fleeing? Isn’t that enough?” she asks. I smile. My girl.

“You’d think,” I laugh. “But turns out his family has some clout in this town. Wealthy. They most likely donated to the mayor’s campaign too. Anyway, he won’t take the deal. He won’t reveal anything about anyone. He’s lawyering up.”

“Do you need anything?” she asks.

Yeah. I need you. I need you to be here with me. I need to wrap my hands around that waist of yours and I need to kiss your sweet lips. I need to feel myself slip inside of you. I need to hear your heavy breathing as we move in oceanic rhythm. I need you now.

“Want to come over? I could use some company,” I say.

“I’ll be over in a half hour,” she says. “Stay put.” My Vi.

She arrives at my doorstep in less than fifteen minutes and, boy, am I drunk. I open the door and she looks at me for a good 15 seconds before saying anything. Then, she bursts out laughing. “Are you joking, Marshall?”

“Does it look like I’m joking?” I ask her, smiling a little. “Come on in, darling.”

“Oh God, I could smell the whiskey from a mile away,” she says, walking inside. “Well, if you’re going to open your door this drunk, at least offer me a glass.”

“No glasses here. Only bottles,” I say. “Tonight, we drink as if our sorrows depend upon it.”

“But it’s just 4pm,” she smiles.

“It’ll be night soon enough, my dear.” I grab the bottle and hand it to her. We both mechanically make our way to the couch and I sprawl myself out. To my surprise and delight, she lays across my lap and wraps her arms around me.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I know you’re going through a lot.”

“Eh, it’s fine,” I say. “I know I can be a little hard to handle sometimes. I’m kind of a prick.”

“You’re learning,” she laughs.

“The thing I don’t understand is what he said to me,” I tell her. “He told us the woman involved has already begun manipulating us. I just don’t get it.”

“He said that?” her eyes widen. “I wonder what he meant by that.”

“I can’t get it out of my damn head,” I say. “It’s driving me crazy.”

“Well, try and calm down. Here, let me help you,” she says. She runs her hands across my shoulders and squeezes gently. “You’re working too damn hard, Marshall. You need to take breaks every now and then.”

She’s right. I am working too hard. I always have overworked myself and now it’s starting to wear on me. This job is too much with too little pay. What’s going to happen if I take those bandits down anyway? Nothing. Nothing at all. Will I get a bonus? Fuck no. Maybe a promotion. Maybe. I’ve done better in my years and they barely gave me a thank you. No, in this business they give you a standing ovation and a pat on the back. Then they tell you to get back out there and keep at it. It’s all fine and dandy until you realize you’re older with nothing to show for it.

I exhale all my problems and close my eyes. She runs her hands across my abs and I start to relax. Still, I can’t get what’s been bugging me out of my mind. I just can’t wrap my head around things. “Who is this woman?” I ask her as if she has all the answers. Of course, she has no idea. She’s more clueless on this thing than I am. “What is she up to?”

Her hands get tense. “I wish I could help you,” she kisses my cheek and holds her lips there, breathing lightly. I feel my cock start to rise. I need her. Fuck, I need her.

“You can help me,” I say.

“How?” she asks, even if she already knows the answer. “What can I do for you?”

“Help me open up,” I say, opening my eyes again. “I want to feel close to you again.”

She climbs over me slowly until her ass is directly over me. She’s wearing a short silky dress and the view I have is perfect. Suddenly, I forget all of my troubles. They all wash the hell away. “There’s my girl,” I kiss her thigh and run my hand up her dress.

She gives a hushed moan and bites her lip. She grabs my cock lightly and I feel her saliva fall across the tip. “Fuck,” I whisper. “I’ve missed your touch.”

“Yeah, baby? Did you miss this?” she asks, swirling her tongue around the base like it’s a lollipop.

“Yes, ma’am.” My eyes widen and my breath quickens. I kiss the curve of her thigh. I keep kissing until I can’t hold back any longer. When I feel her mouth open around my shaft, I suck on the edges of her lips. I lick up, meeting her clit, and I feel as she starts to let go.

“You’re all I need,” I whisper, pushing myself deeper inside her. I feel the back of her throat grow wetter as she holds it open. “My dirty, filthy woman.”

“I like it when you call me that,” she whispers, pushing her body off of mine. She walks over to my wall and puts two hands firmly across the center. “Now, show this dirty girl how you fuck.”

I quickly take the rest of my clothing. It only takes one small movement on her part to be fully naked in front of me. She’s a goddess. Thick, beautiful, with enough curves to leave me satisfied. I reach out and grab a fistful of her ass. My cock won’t stop growing. She reaches behind her and takes it in her hand.

“My God,” she says, excited and surprised.

“Miss it?” I ask her.

“I dream about this dick, Marshall,” she says. She knows exactly what I want to hear.

She puts the tip against her lips. I wrap my leather belt around her waist and close it in tight. I hold the end of the belt and push myself in deep. “Ohhhh shit,” she moans. Her cheek hits the wall and she gulps in a giant breath of satisfied air. I pull back on the belt and manage to push in deeper.

I feel the wall of her pussy close in around me. I’m soon enclosed by the purest feeling known to man. People go to war over this shit. People die over pussy like this. Somehow, I have her. Somehow, she’s mine. The craziest part about this is that I might not be able to let her go. I might need to make her mine forever.

I pull out and press my cheek against hers. I whisper, “Beg for it. Beg for this cock.”

“Please, Marshall,” she pleads. “Give me that cock. You know how much I need it.”

I keep a firm hold around the belt and tighten it further. “You’re not going anywhere until I cum. Got it?” She nods immediately. I slide myself back in and notice that she’s much wetter than before. In fact, she’s fucking dripping all over me. I reach down and move two wet fingers over her clit. I begin to pound her, holding on to the belt with my free hand.

“Yes!” she screams. “Harder!”

I love a girl who can take the heat. A man like me needs a wild woman and Virginia is the definition of wild. I keep holding on tight and, as I fuck her harder, I feel her push her ass back in time with each of my thrusts. I can barely hold back. She’s going to make me fucking cum.

I immediately pull out and let go of the belt. “Get on the bed,” I say, motioning behind me.

She falls flat on her back. “Now, play with yourself,” I tell her, stroking my cock. “I want to watch you.”

I spit on her pussy and watch as she slides two fingers inside, spreading her lips apart. I’m obsessed with her body. I’m perverted to the core because of her, and I don’t give a damn. I lust after her, but more than that, I’m obsessed with her. She’s all I can think about at the station. Even when I’m interrogating Elroy, I can’t get my mind off her. I don’t care if this all somehow ends in flames. I know that I needed to meet this woman because she’s already changed who I am. Now, my life is profoundly different.

“I’m cumming,” she whispers. “Marshall, fuck me. I’m cumming.” She begins to shake. She looks at me right in the eyes and my heart breaks into a million fucking pieces. God damn, she’s beautiful, more beautiful than I’ve ever noticed before. In this vulnerable state, I just want to give her everything, as odd as that sounds.

So I do. I give her all that I’ve got. I slide my body over hers and wrap my arms around her back. I kiss every curve on her collarbone and mount her like there’s no tomorrow. I thrust forward and already feel myself letting go.

“I love you,” I say. I don’t plan to say it. It just comes out on its own. The way her skin is glistening against the light of my bedroom, and the way her eyes widen with passion, it just confirms it for me. I might in fact love this woman and maybe it’s time I admit it to myself. “Fuck.”

I lose it. Everything starts to vibrate inside of me and suddenly, the pleasure intensifies. I can’t get away from it. I start to cum and she pulls me in close. “I love you too, Marshall,” she whispers. Everything starts to look so clear. And when we’re both away from the orgasm, everything starts to make more sense.

Our lips crash together and we roll across the bed, laughing together. “What’re we doing?” she asks.

“We’re living,” I say. “Finally, I’m living.”

Virginia

I can’t believe myself. I said it. I said the three doomed words. Ugh. Then again, it’s not that hard to believe I did another stupid thing, digging the knife in deeper. The question keeps lingering in the back of my mind: do I love him? I mean, really, do I?

I don’t think I’ve ever been in love before. At least, not how it should be. The last time I said that was back in high school. I told my boyfriend that I loved him, but really, I just wanted someone to be there for me. For once, I wanted someone to protect me.

He did protect me, actually. He was always there for me. But emotions always quickly reveal themselves and we drifted apart not too long after. Now, I’m an adult and you’d think that I would have learned from all my experiences. The thing they don’t tell you about is that you’re always learning, always trying to figure out how to make the right move.

Do you ever fuck up? Constantly. That’s just life. But they don’t tell you that when you’re younger. They make it seem like you’ll have figured everything out by the age of 30. I guess I still have some time to go on that front, right?

The truth is, I’m happy with Marshall. The harsh side of that is knowing it won’t last. If he doesn’t bring me down, I’ll have to drift away, this time on a boat to the other side of the big blue sea. I’ll take on a new name, learn a new language, start my own business, and I’ll never see him again.

I’ve thought it all out. When I’m in my 40’s, I can write to him again. I can tell him who I really was and why I couldn’t let him into my life. I wonder if he’d understand? Now that he’s in love with me, would he stay by my side if he knew who I really was? What does it take for someone to truly understand something like this?

“Don’t go into work today,” I tell him. “Let’s just have the day together. We can get breakfast and coffee. Oh! We could ride your motorcycle to a movie theater and see something. I haven’t seen a movie in so long.”

He smiles and runs his hands in my hair. He’s got this look in his eyes, as if he’s been doing drugs or something. “God, you’re gorgeous,” he says, with a sly smile. “Just so fucking beautiful.”

“Come on, Marshall!” My heart is full. It feels good to be looked at like this. He actually likes me. He’s not just using me for something. “Let’s do something, dammit!”

“Anything you want, babe,” he says. “I’m suspended, remember? Today’s my vacation from the department.”

“So you’re going to take me to a movie? And breakfast? We’re going to have a day together? A real day together?” I ask him, biting my lip with excitement. He grabs my waist and tickles me, and I scream loud, laughing. “Stop! Stop!” I yell, falling against him.

He stops and we’re both laughing. Soon, he’s holding me tight, like he never is going to let go. We both feel so free now that we’ve told each other how we feel. It’s like we’ve both had all this emotion pent up for decades and we’ve finally been allowed to let it all go.

“Yes,” he says. “Breakfast. Coffee. A movie. Anything. You name it, honestly. I just feel blessed I get to be next to you right now,” he says. “I’m really not worthy.”

“Trust me,” I say, glancing down at the mattress. “I’m the one who’s not worthy.”

I gulp down and he can see that I’m a little sad. He kisses the top of my head and breathes in. “Why do you keep saying stuff like that?” he finally asks. “You haven’t done anything to warrant that kind of outlook.”

“I don’t know,” I lie. “I guess I just feel that way sometimes, like I’m not good enough, you know?”

“I understand,” he says, but he really doesn’t. He has no idea. He’s made some pretty good choices, overall. All of my life choices have been utter shit.

“Shit, who am I kidding,” he chuckles. “I don’t understand at all. You’re the most beautiful, complex, and eye-opening human being I’ve ever met. Usually people as great as you get down a lot. It’s like part of being a genius I guess.”

“A genius?” I stare at him. A small smile is forcing its way across my face. Dammit, he’s making me feel good again, like he always does. “I think you got the wrong girl, partner.”

“Nah, you’re a genius, alright. You can see them from a mile away,” he says. “I’m just lucky to be dumb enough to bump into you at a bar.”

“I think you’re a genius too,” I say. “How else are you so good at catching criminals?”

He starts laughing. I feel his fingers trail across my body until they stop, enclosing around mine. “I’m the equivalent of a fisherman. That’s all, really,” he says. “I wait. I throw some bait out in the water. And I hope to God that I get a nibble. Anyone could do it. You just have to be able to handle getting shot every now and then.”

“You’ve gotten shot?” I say with surprise.

“Ha, yeah. Nothing special,” he says, beginning to stand up. “Take a close look at my ass and my thigh.”

“Oh my God,” I can’t help but laugh. I look at his butt and there it is, a big old scar on his right cheek. There’s one a bit lower as well. “You got shot in the ass?!”

“An unlucky shot,” he says.

“Or lucky. At least it wasn’t in the gut,” I say.

“Yeah, but then I’d have something to brag about at least,” he winks. “Nah, I’m pretty lucky. You’re right.”

“Well, even if you’re not Einstein, you’re still my hero,” I blush.

I quickly kiss his cheek and smile. I’m feeling so many things for this man that it’s starting to scare me now. I just want to dive into it. For once, I don’t want to have to think. So, for now, I won’t allow myself to. I’ll just go with it. And if it all explodes, taking me down, so be it. That’s the life I’ve chosen.

* * *

“Man, I loved it,” he says, still eating from the popcorn bag. “I just can’t believe that ending.”

“You were crying, Marshall. I saw it,” I laugh. “Don’t try to deny it.”

“I didn’t cry,” he blushes. “I got butter in my damn eye. I swear.”

“You cried! There were tears rolling down those cheeks,” I say. I have my arms around him as we walk. The smell of his cologne is so tantalizing. It smells like, well, love. Everything I imagined love to be, anyway. Movies, cologne, popcorn, the feeling of excitement that resonates from the pit of my stomach. It all feels so perfect right now. Like, maybe I wouldn’t have to go to Europe to start a new life. Maybe I could start a new life right here, with him.

There’s a sense of nostalgia attached to this. I haven’t been to the mall in forever, let alone seen a movie. I could never really afford it. However, when I was younger, it was like a ritual for my friends and I. I thought I’d never get to experience things like this again. I always just figured that it was for one time in my life only. But that’s what love does I guess. It brings you back to the basics, while opening you up to even newer memories. It’s the best feeling I’ve ever felt, and that’s what scares me the most.

“Alright, dammit. I cried!” he laughs. “I cried so damn hard.”

“I knew it!” I scream with laughter. “I caught you.”

He kisses me. “Why did Derrick have to leave Jessica!? It was so stupid and selfish,” he says.

“But they fixed things,” I giggle.

“Oh man, that hit hard. When he stood under her window for three days, soaking wet from the winter rain… that killed me, man,” he says. “There’s not a love more pure.”

“You’re such a softie,” I say. I feel like a regular girl right now. I feel normal. All my life, I’ve stood on the outside. But right now, everything is perfect. With Marshall, I’m on top of the world.

“I guess I am,” he admits. But the truth always has a way of rearing its ugly head back in. “God, I don’t want to have to go into the station tomorrow. The kid’s not talking and the whole thing just makes me go crazy.”

We get on the bike and he starts the engine. “Please don’t bring that up, right now,” I beg him. “It’s just us tonight, remember?”

“Sorry,” he says, but it’s in this absent way that lets me know he’s still thinking about it. Deep down, he’s not a softie. He’s a cop. He will always be a cop. What do cops do? They put their wives through hell because the job is their life.

We take off back to his house, but I’m already planning on going home. I can’t take another night of suspense, or of feeling like he might suddenly come to the conclusion that I’m the girl he’s looking for. It’s just too much on my mind and body.

Oddly enough, when we get back and I tell him I have to go, he doesn’t put up a fight. Instead, he just says, “Okay, darlin’,” as if he already assumed I would leave in the first place. No, it’s like he wants me gone. He wants to mull over this damn case so badly, that it actually makes me want to stay. No doubt, he’s going to be scouring the internet for anything related to a woman bank robber in this county. I don’t know how great his detective skills are, but if he throws the right bait, I’m fucked.

Tonight was the best night of my life. Sometimes, you just have to leave it at that and move on.

Marshall

“No celebrations, everyone,” I say, as I walk through the door. Still, my buddies at the station are all clapping. Odd, since they were the ones who were “worried about” me. I’ll keep in mind how fickle my relationships are down here. “I’m here to do my job. Adam, update me.”

“He’s not talking,” he says. “He says he wants to talk to you.”

“To me?” I laugh. “Why would he want to talk to me. He spit in my face, remember?”

“Hell if I know,” he shakes his head. “But he wants to talk to you. His lawyer is here. He keeps advising him against it. Our first court hearing is tomorrow. We better act fast before he gets bail.”

“He won’t get bail. I’ll make sure of it,” I say. “Alright, I’m going to go talk to the kid. Wish me luck.”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he says. I ignore him. This whole thing has been stupid.

I walk through the door and sit down, facing him. He smiles. “You wanted to talk to me?” I ask him.

“I figured you’d want to talk to me. You know, after everything went down the other day,” he says. His lawyer next to him is an unkempt man, but he’s well known around here as Lenny Krunnman. He’s a damn good lawyer.

“I have nothing to say. At this point, I’ve come to terms with the fact that I won’t be getting any more answers out of you,” I admit. “So be it. That’s the way things gotta be sometimes.”

“And the girl involved? You don’t want to know anything about her?” he asks. His lawyer advises him against it, whispering in his ear, but he ignores him. I’m starting to feel like I might get something from him and that pleases me.

“I don’t care,” I lie. “Look, I told you. We’re going to prosecute and accept the judge’s decision.”

“I loved her, you know,” he ignores me. “That’s why I did this. I thought we’d run away together. To Europe. Thought we’d start a family. I guess that’s all finished now.”

“I guess so,” I say.

“That’s all you have to say? You know, she’s beautiful. She could blend in real well in this town. No one would suspect her,” he says.

I nod. “But you, they’d suspect,” I say. “You’re an obvious choice.”

“Hell yeah, I am. You look at me and you know what class they’ve put me in,” he says. “But you look at her, and you have no idea. She could have gone to fucking Harvard. That’s how captivating she is.”

His lawyer turns red and looks completely stressed out. “I would advise you to—”

“Shut up,” he says. “I’m saying something.”

“Go on,” I urge him. “You’re not saying much.”

“I’m saying more than you know,” he smiles. “If anyone will win this, it’ll be her. If she met you, you’d never know. She’d make sure of that. But Craig. You’ll have to search for Craig.”

It’s like he’s rung the fucking bell. “Craig?” I lean forward. “Who’s Craig? The other guy?”

“Craig Richardson. The motherfucker who left without me.” He just goes on and on, giving me a pile of gold. “He would have left her too, but she’s too smart. She took the third option, a safer route.”

“We’ll have to end this conversation now,” Lenny Krunnman says, completely outraged by his client.

I smile and give an arrogant wink, enough to piss off the guy. “Yes. I believe we do.”

I leave the room and everyone in the station is dumbstruck. I smile to myself and soon, I’m wondering where the damn champagne is. Still, there’s more to be done. We have to find the guy before any celebrating can happen.

I look at the team and throw my hands up in the air. “Well, get to work, guys. Let’s find him,” I tell them. They hurriedly get into their positions. Some leave the station to patrol and scour the streets, while others get on the computers and look through databases. Adam, however, is standing in front of me with his arms crossed, looking sour.

“You win again,” he says.

I shrug. “I’m just lucky. You know the guy who’s never played roulette before, but wins on his first try? That’s me,” I say.

“Whatever,” he huffs. “Look, man. We have to talk about what just happened in there.”

“What about it? Seems to me we just got ourselves a second suspect,” I laugh. We really won. Or, at least, we’re winning more than we were. This will be breaking news, once we find the guy. There shouldn’t be any doubts about that.

“Right. Well, he dropped a big bombshell in there, don’t you think?” he asks me. I’m not catching his drift.

“What about the girl?” he asks. “He said she’s smart. He said she would’ve outsmarted you right from the get go. What the hell does any of that mean?”

“Son, I’ve been asking myself the same fucking question for at least three days now. I don’t know,” I admit. “I wish I did.”

“That girl,” he says. “The one who was at your place on the night it happened…”

“What are you getting at?” I ask him. He’s crazy. Her? No fucking way.

“You don’t think she could have been involved in any way?” he asks. “I’m thinking we need to bring her in. Shit, we should bring in any woman you’ve been with in the past month or two.”

“You’re out of your damn mind,” I say. “The line would be out the door and around the block.”

“I’m not crazy,” he says. “I’m observant. Sometimes I’m wrong, I’ll admit. But this time, I feel pretty certain about it.”

“That’s what you said about the bank job,” I groan. “Look, man. Why don’t you stay in your area of expertise? Let’s find this guy and question him. Then, we’ll worry about which woman I’ve been with and when. Cool?”

“Whatever you say, boss,” is his passive response. He’s not happy, of course, but I’m not about to go and violate these women’s privacy. Plus, no one knows about my Vi. No one needs to. As far as I’m concerned, she’s not a suspect.

Virginia? A bank robber? Hell no. She’s quickly becoming the love of my life. There’s no way I’m going to let anyone ruin that. I’ll die protecting her if I have to.

Virginia

I wake up the next day to my radio, blaring by my bed. Normally, I hit the snooze button, but this time I’m forced to listen as I hear a female reporter say the words, “New suspect confirmed. Craig Richardson, a 27-year-old man from Texas, is now confirmed as the second of three bank robbers. Known for their cunning…”

I jump out of bed and turn the radio up. “Holy shit,” I mumble. No. This can’t be. It can’t be true!

“Yesterday, Elroy Rodriguez dropped a bombshell on detectives at the local precinct. He has now been confirmed to have given the name to Officer Warren Marshall, known for his sharp interrogation skills and nearly perfect record,” the reporter says. “When questioned outside of the station, Marshall denied such statements, only saying, ‘I don’t know where you heard this rumor, but they are only rumors. Whatever has been said in that room is for our ears only right now. We are trying to build a case. It is currently in the public’s interest to stay out of it.’ You’ve heard it here first, only on 583 AM…”

I turn it off and stare blankly at my wall. Suddenly, it feels like my apartment is paper-thin. It feels like it’s closing in on me. I don’t know what to do. Do I flee to Europe on my own? Maybe I can find a cargo ship that I can sneak onto at night. But in Texas? In the middle of the fucking desert? No, that’s not going to happen.

I wrack my brain, trying to find out what the right move is. I have no answers. I only have questions. What exactly did Elroy say? What do they know? The reporter received this information by a local officer, no doubt. That’s how they find out about these things. They were tipped off.

I’m in shock. Total shock. I don’t understand how or why Elroy betrayed us. My guess is that the situation is weighing on him. That, or he wants to be some sort of hero. He realized that he’s caught. The media is going to vilify him for what he’s done. Maybe this was his way of fixing his image.

Not too long after, I get a call on my new burner phone. The number isn’t listed. After four rings, I answer it, completely terrified. I don’t speak when I press the green button. I just listen.

“Hey, it’s me,” Craig’s voice says into the receiver.

I exhale slowly. I feel so fucking dizzy and confused. I just want to be with Marshall. I want to be in his arms. I want to feel as good as I felt the other night. How did life get so out of hand?

“Hey,” I whisper. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “As okay as I can be. You heard the news, I’m guessing. Things are fucked right now. I don’t know what to do.”

That’s a first for Craig. Usually, he’s got all of the answers. He’s normally so confident in his abilities, but now he’s lost that edge to his voice. He sounds really scared.

“Yeah, I just heard on the radio. I can’t believe he did it,” I say, still in total disbelief. Maybe I’m dreaming. I can pinch myself and I’ll wake up. Of course, this is no dream. This is the harsh reality we chose. We fucked up.

“I can. I knew he’d do it. That’s why I am where I am right now. They can’t find me over here,” he says. “Anyway, it’s my fault. I freaked out during the last hit.”

“I know,” I say. “I saw you. You panicked. Everything was going so smoothly. Why’d you do it?”

“We were taking too long. I had to leave you guys. I had to. Ten more seconds yelling at the damn woman at the front and we’d have all been fucked,” he defends himself. “I thought I could create a diversion. I was wrong.”

“Bullshit,” I hiss. “You were always in this for the wrong reasons. You were being selfish and you know it. Admit it.”

“Selfish? You mean like you meeting with Marshall? What the fuck was that all about?” he asks. But he doesn’t let me answer. He just continues his long-winded rant. “Can you really blame me for leaving you two? I was freaked out, man. I thought you had set up a trap for us. Why else would you be talking with a cop?”

“I was getting answers for us, you idiot!” I scream, losing my cool. I can’t take this anymore. I can’t take being in a conspiracy with these guys. I just want to be alone. No, I want to be with Marshall. Fuck, I hate this so much. I’m blaming myself every second of every day. I’m the idiot.

“You were too busy sucking his dick,” he says with all the spite he has left.

“Fuck you,” I say. “You don’t know my motives. He was way off base. We were going to get away with it. They had no idea what our plan was and he was giving me all the information he could give. It was the perfect crime and you ruined it. Fuck, Elroy ruined it too. He didn’t have to talk. Marshall said the state had a shit case on him. That all just went out the fucking window.”

“We all ruined it,” he says, calming down. “We were all so naïve. Like little children. We shouldn’t have done this, but we were dreamers, right? We thought we could escape a rigged system. We thought we could make a better life, somewhere far away from this hellhole.”

“Yeah… well, now what do we do? Is there any way out of this? Let’s find a cargo boat on our own. We’ll hire a driver to the sea. It’s not that far to Louisiana. We can do it,” I say. I’m practically begging at this point. There are no more options, other than to run out the clock and get caught. We’re done for.

“My face is plastered on every single TV screen in America. The feds are after us now. There’s no doubt about that. You know it’s true too. Soon enough, they’ll contact the department down here and take over the case. Your Marshall will have no idea what’s going on anymore and you’ll be in the dark,” he says. “And then, when you least suspect it, your image will be on that television screen. They’ll bring you in for questioning and you’ll be over and done with. We’re in this together. We have been since day one.”

“Don’t say that. Please don’t say that,” I cry. I feel the tears falling down my face. They hit the carpet below me, making a dull tapping noise. My throat starts to close and I just break down. I weep.

Craig starts to cry too. He’s never cried in front of me. He’s too “manly” for that. But now I see that this has really affected him, maybe more than me. It all seems so hopeless now.

“I’m sorry,” he cries. “But you know it’s the fucking truth. We never stood a chance out there. They never gave us a fair shot, so we had to fight back. We had to!”

“Don’t give up now, Craig. You can’t give up now. Stay where you are. Stay in hiding. Get food and water when you have to, but stay in hiding, God dammit. I beg of you,” I say.

“There’s nothing else I can do,” he says, now calm. “My time is up.”

He hangs up the phone, but I’m screaming, “Craig! Craig, no! Please!”

There’s no response on the other line. He’s giving up. I feel broken. I’m shattered to pieces.

Marshall

I glance at the piece of fabric on my dresser. I can’t get it out of my mind. Was that piece of pantyhose left there as a distraction for me? If it was, it’s confusing, to say the least. If not, it’s the smoking gun. It’s my answer to finding this woman.

I pick it up and stretch the fabric out, looking at it in the light. It, of course, doesn’t give me any concrete answers. It’s just a piece of fucking fabric. Worst of all, I should have turned it in when I found it. But I don’t play by the rules. That’s how I win. I work the cases in my own way. Up until now, I’ve never had any trouble doing so.

Now, I’m fucked because there’s probably DNA evidence all over this small piece of pantyhose. It holds the key to the whole damn thing. I sigh and put it back down. All of this makes me exhausted. I even think back to what Adam said, even though it’s bat-shit crazy.

All of those women I fooled around with… is one of them responsible for this? Shit, is Virginia responsible for this? What if she is and I’ve just been in the dark this whole time? It would break my fucking heart. I’d go completely insane. The only woman that I’ve ever bared my soul to is the woman I’ve been hunting down recently?

No fucking way. I can’t believe it. I won’t believe it. Yet, the fucking thought persists in my stupid head. Why? There’s not a shred of evidence that she’s involved. In this line of work, we need evidence. We need truth. This can’t be true. I’ll lay down my badge before I believe it.

I hear a knock at my door, which is curious. No one comes over here, except for Adam. And I know he’s back at home, thinking about the case. I open the door and I see Virginia, staring at me. She’s holding flowers and a bottle of Singleton whiskey. “Happy birthday, officer,” she says, smiling.

“Birthday?” I laugh, letting her inside. “It ain’t my birthday, sweetheart.”

She just shrugs and kisses me. “So what? I thought we could celebrate. You’re about to finish this case,” she says confidently. No, she couldn’t be involved in this. She wouldn’t be this chipper about things. “You’re going to get promoted, right?”

“Shit,” I sigh. “So you heard the news, I guess? That wasn’t supposed to get out.”

“What does it matter if it does?” she asks. “I never understood why cops get pissed when things like that leak out. You got the guy. He’s done for. Congratulations.”

“It pisses us off.” I open the whiskey and smell the flowers. “Because we haven’t actually caught the fool yet. Now he knows we’re onto him. It makes it that much harder to catch him.”

“You’ll find him.” She ignores me. “There’s no way he’s hiding out forever. A guy gets hungry. He gets thirsty and wants a drink. He’ll wander from his hole and someone will recognize him. And then you can get your promotion.”

“Well, you’re probably right about the first thing. But there won’t be any promotions for me. The department hasn’t got shit for money. It’ll be another 20 years until a guy like me is promoted,” I say. It’s the cold, hard truth.

“Anyway,” I continue. “You came at the wrong time. The media is having a frenzy on this case right now, but they have no idea about the real story. The fucking FBI wants in the case now. They claim we’ve done a poor job on it. Now, they’re coming to investigate our claims. I’m fucked, Vi. I shouldn’t have taken any of this on. I should’ve given all the responsibility to my partner.”

She just hugs me, as pure as she is. “Everything will work out for you,” she says. “Trust me like I trust you.”

But I can’t. I have no trust anymore. All of that has been stolen from me and it’s no fault but my own. I’ve put myself in an awkward position by not reporting everything I know. Now, I’m pretty certain I’m going in the trash. I’ll lose my job by the end of the year if the federal agents have anything to do about it.

“Okay,” I say out of courtesy. “Sure. We can get through this.”

She kisses my chest and rests her cheek against me. Suddenly, none of this matters, I’m transported into reality. Sometimes you forget what really matters in this life, and then it hits you right in the face. This is one of those moments. I tend to have a lot of those lately.

“You know, I’m still thinking about that woman,” I admit. “Not like obsessively, so don’t worry. Adam’s just got me all freaked out.”

“How?” she says, absentmindedly.

“I don’t know,” I sigh. “He told me I should really look into all of the women I’ve been with in the past few months. Kind of takes the fun away from it all, you know? I mean, it’s a violation of their privacy. Not all of the encounters ended on good terms either.

I keep looking at her, wondering if it’s true. Is she the woman I’m looking for? I glance at my dresser and see the pantyhose just lying there. I look back at her legs. They’re covered by pantyhose tonight, but they’re a different type of pattern. Stop it, Marshall. You’re going fucking crazy over this. She’s not the one.

“That Adam guy doesn’t seem to lead you anywhere productive,” she laughs.

“He’s got a good heart,” I say. “But you’re right. He doesn’t have an amazing track record. Not yet, anyway.”

Her hand falls on my chest and she kisses me, taking off my shirt. “You’ll find her,” she says. “You’re strong. You’re powerful. You have the world in your hands and you don’t even know it.”

She gets me fucking hard. So hard that I flip her over and bend her over on that couch. She screams with laughter that turns into a deep moaning. “Marshall,” she whispers. “You don’t seem so worried anymore.”

“I want to block it out with that ass of yours, baby,” I say, completely enthralled with her. If she is the one, I’ll have to throw the damn case out. I’ll have to…

I don’t finish the thought. Fuck even thinking about that stuff right now. It’s not worth my time. I unzip my jeans and my cock comes springing out on its own. There’s no time to take my clothes off. I simply push her little dress over her butt and pull her panties down, enough for me to slide myself in.

She’s already moaning for me. When I reach my hand under her lips, I feel her wetness spread across my palm. “I’m going to fuck you hard,” I tell her. I’ve got a powerful feeling in my chest and I need her to lift up my spirits.

I aim my cock at her and slide myself in between her warm lips. I’m enveloped by the best goddamn feeling in the world. And then there’s a heavy knock on my door. “Noooo,” I groan. “Who the hell is that?”

“Don’t stop,” she moans, grabbing my thighs and pushing me forward. “Ignore it.”

But I can’t, despite how good she feels. I pull myself back and slick my hair back, putting my cock away. My balls are aching like heavy weights. “I swear to God, if it’s Adam, I’m going to kill him. I’m straight up going to take my pistol and shoot him.”

“Marshall…” she sighs. “Stop. It’s fine.”

“It ain’t fine. It’s bullshit,” I say, swinging opening the door.

Standing in front of me is Adam, of course. Only, he’s surrounded by a bunch of suited-up motherfuckers, and they look like they mean trouble. “Warren Marshall, I presume,” one of them says to me.

I glance over at Virginia, who quickly sits up straight and adjusts her dress. “Who’s asking?” I question him.

“I’m sorry to disturb you sir,” he continues. “The name is Freddie Macker. FBI. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Pleasure? In what fucking way? So now I’ve got a clear understanding on this. The feds have finally decided to move in on our case. What else is new? I look over at Adam who just has a simpleton buggy-eyed look. I want to sock him in the face. Dammit, why does he always piss me off? The bastard never puts up any sort of fight.

“Can’t say I’ve been waiting to meet you folks,” I admit “What do you want with me and my case?”

“The case has now been combined with ours. We’re looking for Craig Richardson as well. We have some a good tip that he could be involved in a murder that happened over six years ago,” he says. “I’m sorry we have to move in on you like this. I used to be a cop myself. I hate to put another officer in this type of position. Forgive me.”

“You’re forgiven,” I mutter. Sellout cop bastard. Now I want to sock him in the face too. In fact, just let me sock everyone in front of me right now. “Just give me a second and I’ll meet you at the station in fifteen. Cool?”

“Actually, sir. We’ve got firm rules on this sort of thing. You’ll have to come with us. Safety reasons, of course,” he says.

Dammit. Looks like I’m going to have blue balls all night. “Sure. Got it,” I say. “Well at least give me five minutes to explain the situation to my girlfriend here.”

“Girlfriend?” Adam blurts out. What an idiot.

“No need,” she says, getting up. Her whole face is red with embarrassment. I feel fucking terrible.

“Vi, I—”

“You don’t need to explain anything. I get it. Your job. It’s important.” She’s feisty as hell right now. I don’t blame her. “See you tomorrow, maybe. That is, unless you’re too busy at the station. Bye.”

She walks out, pushing past the FBI agents. Freddie lowers his sunglasses and smiles at me. “She’s one hell of a catch,” he says. Adam laughs too.

“Yeah,” I scratch my head. “She’s worth it, alright.”

“Let’s hope,” Adam says. That’s when I do it. I sock him right in the face. Down he goes.

Virginia

“Argh!” I scream into my pillow. “Murder? Murder!” Huge gasping breaths go into my lungs and my body is shaking so badly that I think I might have a stroke. The FBI is involved in this. Craig was right. He knew all along. Now, things are going to get insane. Did he really murder someone? Why didn’t any of us know? I guess that was before we met him…

It takes over twelve hours before I hear anything from anyone. The phone rings and it’s an unidentified line. Craig. I answer. “What do you want?” I ask him. “I guess you didn’t take your life, did you?”

“How’d you know it was me?” he asks.

“Are you really shocked?” I say, trying not to scream. “Who else calls me?”

“Your daddy, Marshall,” he laughs.

“Go fuck yourself. I know where you’re hiding. I’m about to head right over to the feds and tell them,” I lie. “You deserve to get caught. You deserve the harshest sentence possible. You lied to us. You convinced us that life would be easier after this. You’re just another con man.”

“Back the fuck up,” he says. “The feds? They’re involved now? I knew it.”

“Yeah, congratulations. You guessed right. I guess you knew because of the murder you committed six years ago, right?” I ask. “I guess you really had to get out of the country. You had to convince a couple of innocent people like us that you wanted to help, that you were a justice warrior.”

“Who told you that? Marshall? Are you with them now?” he asks.

“Maybe I am. If so, you’re done for,” I say, out of breath and ready for a fight. “It’s all so clear now. You used both of us so you could find safe harbor elsewhere.”

“I guess you have me all found out,” he chuckles. “Frankly, I figured you would have figured it out a long time ago. I was kind of freaking out when you first talked to Marshall. I thought you pegged me right then and there. Turns out, you’re not as smart as I thought.”

“Spare the mad-genius speech.” I roll my eyes. “I know where you are.”

“Where am I?” he laughs. “You don’t know shit.”

“I’m not an idiot. Remember that time we got shit-faced at your place? Remember?” I ask him.

“I remember falling asleep. That’s about it,” he says. “What does that have to do with anything.”

“You showed me that picture. You told me about the hole,” I say. “The ditch out by the swamps. I saw the small cabin you built. You promised to take me there, right before you tried to kiss me and I denied your ass.”

“Stop talking,” he says. “Don’t say anything more. They could be listening.”

“Yeah they could,” I laugh. “Where was it again? By which freeway? Near Louisiana, right?”

“Shut the hell up!” he screams. I’ve cut a nerve. Of course he went there. It’s just so obvious. Even if they haven’t found him yet, they will soon enough. It’s not hidden enough. Cars drive by there all the time and the locals over there know every nook and cranny.

“I’m going fucking crazy,” he says, after breathing heavy. “I don’t know what to do. But whatever it is, I know these are my last days being free.”

“You’ll get out eventually,” I tell him. “You won’t be in there for life.”

“I killed someone, dammit. I killed him,” he starts to break down again, just like yesterday.

“Who?” I ask him. “Tell me.”

“I was young. Just really young and angry. I don’t know why I did it. I was drunk,” he says. “I was coming home from a party and so was this kid who had been talking to my girlfriend all night. I was wasted, Virginia. I wasn’t in control. He looked at me and smiled when we stopped at the same light. I didn’t smile back. I felt like he was taunting me.”

“Was he?” I ask him.

“I don’t know. All I know is that when he did it again, something went off in me. It was like a quick switch. Everything went hot black. I grabbed my pistol and pointed it at him. My window was down. I could feel the cold breeze reaching in the car, begging me to do it. I pressed the trigger down. His face… I saw his face turn, like he was going to vomit. It was like he was looking at the devil himself,” he says, crying. “You’d be surprised how easy it is to pull a trigger. I had shot a gun once and it seemed much harder. But that night, it was really easy. It went off and the gun fell on my lap, hot and smoking. I glanced up and he still had that same look on his face. Only this time, he was slumped over. I sped off and no one said anything about it to me. No one. Not until… you.”

A chill runs up my spine. For the first time, I feel really scared of the guy. I’ve never cared much for morality, but there’s a huge line you can cross. Anyone can tell you there are circumstances that surround any situation. Craig, however, has something dark in him. It’s a shade of dark I never want to cross.

“So you’re going to talk?” he asks me. I choke. “I figured you would.”

“I don’t know,” I admit. “I just don’t want to be involved in this. I want my time back, the time before I agreed to any of this.”

“I never meant to use you,” he says. “But I needed to escape this hellhole and you were my ticket out of here. Anyway, it’s almost over now. Soon, we’ll all have a little closure.”

He hangs up the phone before I can even respond. “Fuck!” I hiss, stomping my heel against the ground.

I have to turn him in. I’m not the same person I used to be. I can’t just sit by and let him leave the country. He could hurt others. He killed someone out of sheer anger. I’ve never met anybody who’s done anything like that before. Marshall, a cop, hasn’t even killed a man.

Today is a day of thought. When Marshall calls, I don’t answer. Everything is hanging on a thin line and I have no idea what they’re planning over there, or what the FBI knows. Everything I do or say can be used in a court of law, right? The best bet for me right now is to watch my tongue and form a plan. I’m going to turn Craig in. After that, I might have to turn myself in.

Virginia

I know exactly where Craig is. The one catch is that turning him in could implicate me. At this point, it’s pretty clear that Craig is losing it. He’s been holed away for too many days out there. Out in the swamps, there’s nothing that you can do. You just have to wait.

That’s why he built the damn place. He wanted somewhere safe. Now, after he told me all the details of the murder, it makes sense. He built it after everything went down. He knew how fragile he was. He knew this case wouldn’t just go away. They never do. No one like him gets away with murder. Eventually, it all catches up to you. So he built the cabin. He found a way to hide.

Only, he told the girl he was going to use. He got sloppy drunk and spilled it all to me. I’m the wrench in his plans and if I don’t turn him in now, he’s going after me. At least, that’s how I’m feeling. Paranoid much? Probably. But I can’t take any chances now.

I take out my laptop, sliding my black leather gloves on. The same gloves I used in our heists. They’ve been cleaned and carefully put into my bag. Now, I’m using them one last time.

I take out my laptop and glance at the blank screen. I begin typing: I never wanted to be typing these words. I never thought I’d be in this position, stuck in the middle of two crimes. The first crime was a bit foolish, I’ll concede. We needed money and we studied hard. It wasn’t the crime of the century, but it was well thought-out. You see, I was leaving this place behind. We all were. We were going to Europe to disappear forever and start our new lives, separate from each other. Texas has represented a lot of things to a lot of people, but to us, it represented our hell. I won’t apologize for the crime all three of us committed, but I will say this. We weren’t trying to hurt anyone. You have to realize, our backs were against the wall. We had no choice, but to survive.

I’m the girl you’ve been looking for and I can tell you that Elroy and I had no idea Craig murdered someone. I spoke with him recently and he explained the whole thing. Now, I feel sick to my stomach. I can’t think about anything else. He used us as a means to escape. But now that this is ending, I know I can’t let him leave. I have to tell you where he is.

I want some semblance of normality in my life again. Falling in love with Marshall has given me something real to fall into. At first, I thought I could manage my emotions. I thought I’d keep him close, while having fun too. It was dumb, I’ll admit, but I thought I’d be in Europe by now, surrounded by Cliffside views.

I take a break from writing. Marshall. This is going to Marshall. The man who changed my life forever. My eyes start to water, but I hold back from crying. I miss him so much and it’s only been a day. I grab my phone and look at his number. I text him, “I love you, my handsome man.”

He texts me, “Missing you like crazy.” And then, only seconds later, he says, “I’ve been thinking. After this whole thing is over and done with, let’s do something special. Let’s go to Mexico and get away. Let’s get lost down there for a week. I want to get to know you better so bad, Vi. I’m sorry I’ve been so consumed with work. It’s not fair to you and I’m working on a way of getting out.”

Getting out? My heart sinks while reading. He’s so good to me. He’s done so much and worked so hard to make this work right and all I’ve done is lie to him. And now, he’s talking about throwing his career away, all so he can have more time with me, the liar.

My hands are shaking. I can barely breathe. I hold my phone and type the words: “All I want is you. I hope I’m good to you. Mexico sounds wonderful. I would love to explore the world with you.”

Huge dreams. I’m diving into the unrealistic, thinking about all we could do together. We could go to South America and hike the mountains of Peru. We could boat across Venice, while eating big globs of pasta. We could head to the streets of Bangkok and backpack across the lush terrain of Thailand. Then, we could take a road trip across America. I could see it all, while being with the one I love.

They’re just pipe dreams. It’s never going to happen like that. When he finds out who I really am, he’ll cuff me, throw me in my jail cell, and never talk to me again. I’ll have to become a different person in prison. I’ll have a new life, one defined by small quarters and bars that extend all around. Small windows and decaying food. I’ll lose all semblance of life, while Warren carries a broken heart throughout his career as a cop.

I set my phone back down and look at the laptop. There’s more to be said, so I continue to write. “The directions will be listed below. You’ll find him there. I’m sending you this, at the risk of losing everything. The truth is, I haven’t spent the money yet. It was supposed to be for a home and a new job. But now, I’m thinking of giving it back. Funny, right? I know it doesn’t make a difference, what I do now. I committed the crime. Your job is to seek justice. My job is to thwart justice. Who will win? My guess is that, in the end, no one will come out ahead. It’ll just be the age-old cat and mouse chase. I have no doubts in my mind that you’ll lock me up. But it won’t change anything in the end. Anyway, I hope this helps your prior investigation on the murder. That’s something I can’t stand behind. Goodbye and good luck finding me.”

I print it out and carefully grab the paper, holding it away from me. I don’t want to get any of my hair on it, any of my saliva, or anything. I quickly fold it and throw it in an envelope. I drive 40 miles out and drop it in a box, near a few shacks, in a poor neighborhood. There are no cameras around here, so I should be safe.

When I head home, I’m exhausted. Come tomorrow, Craig will be in their custody. As for me, I’ll be holding my breath and hoping for better days.

Marshall

“Who is she, anyway?” Adam asks me, in a room full of FBI Agents. I glance at him with a hurried look of disgust and anger.

“Don’t question me about my business,” I tell him. “She’s a woman I’m saying. Let’s leave it at that.”

He has no business asking me who she is. Frankly, I’ve been nice to him up until a certain point. Him envying me and thinking I’m some sort of badass has now turned into him thinking I’m some sort of hedonist. Maybe I used to be. Maybe I used to sleep around with any woman I saw as a catch. That was then. Now, I’m devoted to one woman and I’m not letting the department get involved in my love affairs.

“Come on, man. Just tell me about her,” he says. I know where he’s going with this.

“What is this new obsession with my love life?” I ask him. “It’s getting weird.”

The way he looks at me now is so different. It’s like he’s questioning my motives, every second of the day. It started at the first stake out. Once I proved he was wrong, he felt thwarted. Now, he’s got it in his head that my girl is a bank robber. The whole thing sounds fucking ridiculous, even when I say it in my head.

“I just want to be closer with you, man. We’re partners, after all,” he says, in a friendly tone. Still, his eyes reveal everything. “I don’t know. Maybe we can go on a double date sometime, or something. I’m seeing someone too now, actually.”

“Oh yeah?” I laugh because I know he’s bullshitting me. He’s spent his nights hunched over at his desk, researching the case. There hasn’t been any time for him to find somebody. “Who is she?”

“Some girl I went to college with. I called her up the other day. I thought we could catch up and she ended up having dinner with me two nights ago,” he says.

I’m staring directly in your eyes, man. How could you lie to me like that? Partners? Fuck that. We’re so far removed from each other.

“That’s sweet, but I don’t really do the double dating thing. It gets… awkward.” I chuckle and drink the bitter coffee. It’s lukewarm at this point. The styrofoam cup in my hand feels out of place. I want to get the fuck out of this room. I’ve never liked working with the feds. No cop does. But Adam? Hell, he’s loving every second of this. He feels like a fucking superstar.

Policing used to be an honorable profession. I suppose it still is in some places. Down here, in this county, it’s nothing but an ego-game. It’s just a department full of guys trying to climb their way to the top. Ever since the new team came in, it’s been worse. It’s like they’ll do anything to get ahead. They’ll even chat it up with the feds.

“Suit yourself,” he says, looking over at Freddie Macker, the fed who showed up at my door, violating my privacy. Freddie smiles. They’re buddies, after all. Soon, they’ll all go out for beers, like all men working for the government do after a long day. Adam will make the suggestion to look into my affairs. Adam, my partner. My friend.

I haven’t been clean all of these years, but I sure as hell have done my job well. There’s paperwork I’ve fucked up on, there’s evidence I’ve withheld. Back when I first started, we were taught different procedures. We were told to go with our gut. Turns out, my gut was good. I put a lot of bad men behind bars. But how is that going to look to a federal agent, who’s trying to take over this case?

They’ll clean up shop. They’ll try to get me on some bullshit, but we all know they’ll just fire me. There won’t be any going to any other departments. My career will be over. The life I’ve made will fall to pieces.

“What do we know about the guy?” I find myself asking. I might as well be proactive on this. “Craig Richardson. Where was he last seen?”

Freddie glances at the bulletin board posted in the office. It has all of Elroy and Craig’s history up there, but it’s not clear how they met or what woman is involved.

“After the murder, he went off the grid for a while. Word on the street is he took a number of odd jobs. He was a dishwasher for three months, before screaming at his manager and breaking a rack full of dishes. He worked on a farm out in Louisiana for a bit, but that didn’t last too long. Someone told us he sold marijuana to some friends of his, but at this point, we can’t confirm the validity of that,” he says. “All in all, we don’t have much. The guy doesn’t use a smartphone or anything. He hasn’t had internet for years, or even a registered place.”

“Any bills? Anything we can trace to him?” I ask him. Adam won’t keep his eyes off me. The jealousy is palpable.

“There’s no paper trail. The man must’ve paid with cash,” he says. “We’ve found a number of bills related to his mother, as she was the sole provider for the family. But even then, nothing points to him. We’ve sent our guys out to different properties and each time we’ve come back empty-handed.”

“Fuck,” I whisper. “A real mastermind, huh.”

“Maybe,” he nods. “He definitely thought this through. I think he knew we were going to hear his name sooner or later.”

“Sir,” a man walks through the door, holding an envelope in hand. He’s looking at me. “This came in for you today. Just wanted to send it your way and make sure you got it.”

“Who the hell would be sending you something at the station?” Adam asks.

“No idea, but we’ll find out soon,” I say, ripping open the envelope.

I start to read the words aloud: “I never wanted to be typing these words. I never thought I’d be in this position, stuck in the middle of two crimes…”

I look up at the guys in the room and it’s pretty fucking clear to everyone that I’m holding something big. Everyone is waiting for me to continue. This is good news, whatever is revealed. Only, Adam is looking at me in a different way, as if I’m the one behind this somehow. Still, I tune him out and read the letter.

“…anyway, I hope this helps your prior investigation on the murder…” I finish the letter and set it down, slumping back in my seat.

“Jesus Christ,” Freddie whispers.

I smile and nod. “Jesus Christ is right. We just witnessed a miracle,” I say. “We got him, right?”

“Don’t be too sure. Could be a trap. Could be nothing,” Freddie says. “Either way, we have to send our men in now.”

“No,” I tell him. “This was our case from the get-go. It’s our boys in there or nothing.”

Freddie groans. “Are we really going to play this game?” he asks me.

I stand up and face him. “I’ve worked my whole life for these guys. Hell yeah, we’re going to play that game,” I say.

He sighs. “Fine. Your guys can go in. But it’s their lives that are on the line,” he says. “We’re going in behind you though. Our government orders it.”

“Deal.” I shake his hand. “Adam, you coming with me?”

“Yes, sir,” he says. I nod. “Gear up, boys! We’re about to have ourselves a little fun!”

* * *

Louisiana is hot, muggy, and full of dark mystery. It takes hours to get there, which means hours of silence with Adam. Finally, when we’re close, he turns and asks me a revealing question.

“Who wrote that letter?” he asks.

“Excuse me?” I laugh at the absurdity of the question.

“I just mean, it’s pretty good timing right?” he asks.

“What are you insinuating?” I ask him, turning grim. We turn off our lights when we get close and start driving a little slower. We park the car a block away and prepare to head out on foot.

“Nothing at all,” he says. “Forget I said anything.”

There are noises everywhere. Crickets, winged bugs, croaking gators… Louisiana always gave me the creeps, but it’s these parts that especially freak me out. As we walk up to the sheltered cabin, I hold my breath.

We get to the front door and move into position. I motion with my hands, keeping my pistol out. My heart is beating wildly. I motion. “1-2-3-” And we bust the door open, moving in.

We’ve got men with high-powered rifles, dressed in the nicest swat outfits our taxpayers can buy. “Craig Richardson!” I scream, holding my gun out. I look through the night vision goggles and see movement in one of the rooms. The door is open. “Down on the ground!” I scream.

He aims his pistol at me and I fire twice. One bullet clearly hits his abdomen, while the other hits his chest. He hits the ground fast and our men move in to arrest the bastard. It all happens so fast and I’m left, leaning against the wall, catching my breath. I’m dizzy with fear. I almost just lost my life. Worst of all, I almost lost the chance to have another day with Virginia.

“We need a medic,” I say.

“They’re on their way,” an officer says. I close my eyes and somehow, I know Adam is staring at me. I may have just killed our suspect and that doesn’t look too good.

Virginia

I’m sitting at my favorite coffee shop, the one I went to the day after the crime. It’s been a long time since I’ve let myself go out like this, but I need more information on what happened last night. The radio let me know that Craig was caught, but when I got here, all of the news networks were saying that he’s dead.

“…shot down by Warren Marshall…” were the first words that I heard. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I can’t believe it. Craig is dead? Why? But I already know why. He was already on his last leg. No doubt, he came out firing.

Now, however, I’m learning that he’s still alive. He’s in critical condition. I call Marshall, but he doesn’t answer. Instead, another guy does. “This is Adam, Marshall’s partner. Who’s calling?” he asks.

“I’m, uh, his girlfriend,” I say. “Where’s Marshall. Is he alright? I just the saw news.”

“Oh, his girlfriend. We haven’t met yet, though I’m curious. How can a woman fall for a guy like him?” he asks.

“Excuse me?” I blurt out. Already, it’s obvious this guy is not someone I want to be talking to, but I keep myself on the line because I need Marshall. I need to know that he’s okay.

“It’s a joke. Er, sorry,” he says. “He’s pretty busy right now, but if you’d like to come in, you’re more than welcome to.”

“I’ll be there in less than an hour,” I find myself saying.

“Good, good. We’ll talk then. Thanks, uh…”

“It’s Virginia,” I say. “Goodbye.”

I hang up the phone and run out the door. I get to the station in fifteen minutes. I shouldn’t be anywhere near here, but there’s so much I need to find out. What happened in there? Is Craig really alive? I have to admit, I don’t want him to die. Even if he does hold the power to give me up, I don’t have it in me to wish someone to die.

At that station, all eyes are on me. It’s quiet in there, somber even. “Wait over here,” the FBI guy says to me. “Marshall’s busy right now, but he’ll be out soon enough.”

Another man, younger than everybody, walks over to me and sits down. “Virginia, right?” he smiles and extends his hand toward me. “Adam. I’m Marshall’s sidekick.”

“Sidekick?” I laugh. “Is that the official term?”

“It sounds better than saying partner,” he laughs a little with me. I nod and there’s a long silence where we both stare at the wall in front of us. “Pretty crazy stuff, right? Shootouts, bank robberies, and now the feds are involved. I sure didn’t expect any of this when I applied to work for the department.”

“Must be exciting.” I wonder if he’s on to me. After hearing what Marshall said about the exes, I think it’s safe to say he has a hunch. But how? Because of what Elroy said during his interrogation?

“It’s a little exciting. I’m not going to lie. But I’m praying that kid doesn’t die in there,” he says. “He did some pretty bad stuff, but no one deserves to die like that.”

“Yeah, but Marshall was just defending himself, right?” I ask, wondering what he’s getting at.

“Yeah, of course,” he smiles. “Even if he didn’t, I think we all are prone to making mistakes in the heat of the moment. It can be pretty terrifying out there.”

I just nod and keep to myself. Whatever he wants can’t benefit me. “Right before all of this, we got a mysterious letter from the woman who helped commit those robberies,” he finally says. Here it is…

“Yeah, I heard about that on the news,” I say.

“It’s odd. Why would they write to Marshall? Why make it so personal?” he asks.

“I’m not a detective,” I say. “I really don’t know. He is the leading guy on the case, right?”

“Yeah, I suppose that’s why,” he says, stopping himself. Of course, he can’t help but finish his thought. “Do you know anyone close to Marshall who might be involved in this? An ex-girlfriend or something?”

“Am I interrupting something?” The words come from a familiar voice. It’s that deep, gruff voice I’ve come to know and love.

“Marshall!” Adam jumps from his seat. “Your girlfriend came to see you.”

“Keeping her company?” he asks him.

Adam awkwardly stuffs his hands in his pockets and says, “Just introducing myself. Wasn’t I?” he looks at me.

“Something like that,” I say. “Can you talk? Outside.”

“I’ve got 30 minutes. Let’s get some food,” he smiles. I’ve missed that smile so fucking much.

Outside, we don’t even talk. He simply wraps his arms around me and stares longingly into my eyes. “I dream about you every night,” he says.

“I’ve missed your touch, Marshall. I’ve missed everything about you. When is this all going to end? I’m dreaming about Mexico,” I say.

He glances back at the station. “Soon, hopefully,” he says. “Hey, can I talk to you about something?”

My heart jumps, but I nod. “Anything,” I say. Somehow, I feel ready. If he asks me about the robberies, I’m going to come clean. I can’t live with this weight anymore.

“I’m thinking about quitting the department,” he says. “Now, before you say anything, I want to tell you that I’ve been thinking long and hard about this. I don’t see a bright future if I stay here. There was a time when being a police officer meant things for me. Now, it doesn’t give me much joy. I hate saying that aloud, but I want to live a simpler life. I want more time with you, Vi. I hope I’m not rushing things here by saying any of this.”

“Marshall,” I try to find the words. “I was so mixed up before I found you. You’ve given me purpose, real purpose in this life. I love you so much. I don’t care what job you have. Just do what you love and I’ll be happy.”

Our lips meet and the weight of our passion knocks me against the station’s walls. He brings me to the side and suddenly, my hands are under his shirt, feeling his strength. He grows hard against me and I have the biggest desire to fall to my knees right here, despite the fact that there are at least 20 cops inside.

“Not here,” he says. “Tonight. I’ll sneak away.”

“Won’t that Adam guy get mad? Aren’t you supposed to be here all night?” I ask him, out of breath. My lips taste like him. Every time I breathe, I can smell him. He smells like confidence.

“Fuck him,” he says. “He can stay and be their pawn. I’m done breaking my back for them.”

“Okay, tonight then. But where?” I ask him.

“At the bar we met,” he says. “They won’t think to look for me there.”

We kiss one last time. My body flutters with excitement. I feel electrified. But behind all my excitement is the knowing that this may be it. Whether Craig lives or dies is beside the point. My conscience won’t allow me to lie anymore. I have to tell him who I am. I have to let him know.

Marshall

It’s not hard to leave the place every now and then. It is hard to get Adam out of the way before I do it. Lucky for me, Freddie gives him the task of watching over Craig at the hospital, something that Adam is not happy about.

“Good luck,’ I say to him as he leaves the station.

“Yeah, yeah,” he replies back. “Laugh it up.”

Surprisingly, he’s been okay the rest of the day. Maybe his talk with Vi set the record straight a little bit. Maybe now he knows we’ve got absolutely nothing to do with this thing. Either way, I don’t dwell on it too much. I’m just excited to sneak out and see my girl.

When I get to the bar, I quickly change out of my old clothes and put on a nice suit. I don’t normally dress this nice, but I figure it’s a nice enough occasion. I see her walk in front of my car and I tap on the glass, smiling big. I jump out of the car, run, and pick her up into my arms.

“Marshall!” she squeals. “Put me down.”

She laughs as I set her down. “God, I’ve had the worst day!” I exclaim. “Been looking forward to this for hours now.”

“You look really good,” she says, biting her lip. “Like, really good. I didn’t know you wear suits.”

“I’m feeling pretty good,” I say. “Just knowing I’ll be out of the department at the end of the year is like a huge weight off my shoulder, you know? I just have to figure out what’s next.”

“Whatever it is, I support you,” she says. It’s the craziest thing. I somehow met the best woman in the world.

We both walk in the bar, our hands intertwined, and everyone inside is in good spirits. It’s like our emotions have rubbed off on the world. I order two drinks for us at the bar, and try to find a table once they’re poured. “I don’t want to talk about all the crap we’ve been dealing with,” I finally tell her. “Tonight, I just want to be close to you.”

We sit down at a booth in the back and she sits very close to me. Her thigh comes across mine as she says, “Then be close to me.”

She slides up on my lap and very quickly I understand what she’s getting at. She grinds her hips backward and my cock twitches until it’s fully hard. I watch as she reaches back and pulls her panties halfway down her ass, with just enough space for me.

“You didn’t get to cum the other night,” she whispers. “You must be aching.”

“I’m fucking dying,” I say, heart pumping strong and steady. I cup my palm around her ass and feel her soft skin. I squeeze and have to catch my breath. She’s smoking hot and I want her more than anything at this moment. How could I have ever doubted her? She’s a fucking angel.

I slide my fingers in between her legs, under her ass, and feel her pussy. “I’m so wet,” she smiles. “Sorry about your suit.”

“Fuck my suit,” I say, unzipping my pants hurriedly. I carefully pull my cock out. We’re sheltered enough back here and everyone’s got their attention on the football game on the television anyway. Just for the record: I don’t give a fuck if anyone’s watching right now.

She leans forward and grabs my cock in her hand. She moves her wrist up and down, up and down, until she slides her pussy over it. “There we go,” she moans.

“This is crazy,” I say, running my hand through her hair. I grab a fistful of it and start thrusting upward. The whole table starts to shake, but still, no one is looking our way.

“I want you so bad,” she says.

“My Virginia,” I whisper. “Vi…”

Thrusting, grasping, pumping, and searching for our lost selves, we find our completely unordinary lust. We tune out the bar. They’re ordinary and boring to us. They sit and let their lives dole out on a daily basis, while love like ours is all around them.

I’m not a poetic man, but Virginia makes me want to write a thousand books on the word love. Her hands fall to my thighs and she turns her cheek to the left, enough for our lips to meet. This woman is like a wildfire, turning hot only for me. I love that about her. Deep down, she’s a hesitant and methodical woman. Yet, with me, she’s willing to do anything.

“I would do anything for you,” I whisper.

It’s true. I would do anything at this point just to have her forever. Her lips, her legs, her beautiful ass… these are the things I want to end up with. Money, a career, the stress coming from those around me are things I want to do away with. I want to be free, for once in my life. She’s giving me that chance by opening up a door inside me I can’t close now.

This is bad, an inner voice says to me. Only, I don’t care how much this ruins me anymore. I’m not going to run away from this, from her.

“Anything?” she whispers.

I spin her around so that she’s facing me. Her legs are straddled around my waist, in the darkened booth. The back of the bar is empty save for us, and a loud pinball machine. She keeps kissing me, over and over again. Lips are sucking, tongues are sliding, and our hands can’t stop touching. Her body is a fucking temple that I never get sick of exploring.

“Anything,” I say. “I promise.”

Her breathing is hushed, yet strained. As the sound rises, so does our body temperature. Our eyes open as the warmth inside us grows. “I think I’m going to cum,” she whispers.

“Cum for me, darling,” I whisper back.

Her cheek falls against my face, as she struggles to hold on. Her skin smells like sweet candy, roses, and something innocent that I can’t quite put my finger on. I take her all in, kissing her neck, and tasting her skin. I want to consume her. I want to dive into her and never come back. I want to fall into her endlessly.

“Please,” she whispers. “Don’t ever leave me. Don’t ever let me go.”

“I won’t, Virginia. I could never be without you,” I say.

My hand runs down her back, falling across the back of her ass. I hold her close to me, feeling the dull thud of her heart beating against her chest.

“I mean it,” she says. “Whatever happens. Whatever we find out about each other. We can’t let it ruin what we have now. This is much too important to me now.”

My heart swells. I couldn’t leave her if I tried. Her warmth envelops me. Her pussy closes in on my cock, as I pound it over and over. I crush my lips to hers and I’m free. I’m fucking free. “Nothing can ruin this,” I whisper. “Nothing.”

“I’m… cumming…” she says with an absent smile. “I love you, Warren Marshall.”

We both let the world around us fade away. Endless waves of pure feeling and emotion flow throughout our bodies, as we both let everything go. Our hands tear at our clothes and our lips slide across each cheek. Her nose. My God, her perfect nose. I kiss it. I kiss everything I can see. Everything is so frantic, yet nothing is rushed.

When I open my eyes, she’s staring at me. Her cheeks are rosy red and she’s breathing heavy, smiling. Her eyes shine against the light, green as emeralds. “I’m sorry, Marshall,” she whispers.

“Never be sorry,” I said. “What could you possibly be sorry for?”

She kisses me one more time, lips forcefully glued to one another. A single tear falls from her eye and I’m stunned by her beauty. “I really fucked up,” she whispers. “Fuck.”

“Vi, what’s going on?” I ask. She stays on my lap, as more tears start to fall down her face. Something doesn’t feel right. Things are starting to feel very wrong. I don’t want this to end. “Are you breaking up with me?” I ask.

“No,” she admits.

“Then why does it feel like this is the end?” I ask her, grasping at straws. I’m trying to pick up the pieces of something I’m unsure is broken. Answers… I need answers.

“God, Marshall,” she says. “All I wanted was to be with you forever. What we have is so pure. It’s eternal.”

“Never let go of it,” I kiss her. “Please don’t.”

“I wanted to run away with you. I wanted to do so many things. But I can’t keep holding in this dark secret forever. You have to know who I really am,” she says. “If I keep you in the dark forever, I’ll hate myself.”

It’s at this point, I start to realize what she’s saying. This dark secret… I was wrong all along. Everything starts to slow down and I give a strangled, “No,” as the world around me morphs into something terrible and looming.

“I’m the one you’ve been looking for,” she says. “I was with Craig and Elroy.”

I feel sick. No, I feel angry. Sad. My brain ticks through the number of horrible emotions a man can go through, and eventually I’m left feeling absolutely numb. “You? How could you?” I whisper, unable to even look at her.

“Please, Marshall. Look at me. Don’t turn away from me now,” she pleads. “Please!” her voice sounds sharp and distant. It’s begging, like a hurt animal on the side of the road. Only, I’m the one who’s been blindsided by this whole thing, not her. And right now, I’m left bleeding out on the guardrail. All eyes fall on me. At least, that’s how it feels. Truth is, the world doesn’t care. It keeps going on and on, while I fade away.

“You,” I repeat, unable to form a coherent sentence. I look down at her legs. I imagine the pantyhose wrapped tightly against her skin. I can picture the indents from the pattern, how she ran in them, as she stole all that money. “Why’d you do this to me? You played me like a deck of cards.”

“No, Marshall. I didn’t know I’d fall in love with you,” she says.

“Everything is a lie,” I say, feeling the anger rush in. It’s like the door that she opened for me has now closed forever. A solid chain wraps around the entrance and no key can unlock it now.

“It’s not a lie!” she screams. Now, I’m certain people are staring at us. Adam was right. I can’t believe he was fucking right. “What we have is real.”

“I can’t see you again. I have to take you in,” I say, though the thought of that disgusts me.

“Leave with me,” she says, as if this was her grand plan all along. “Leave the country with me. We can go anywhere. Nobody has to know. I can turn the money in. I can start over, with you. Together. Please, Marshall.”

“There’s not going to be any starting over. We were building something strong, but there was no concrete holding everything together. Now, it’s crumbling. My world is fucking crumbling down,” I say. “Don’t ever talk to me again. Don’t ever look for me again. I want you out of this city in two days. I never want to hear your name again.”

“No!” she bawls. I wipe myself off, feeling tainted. The sex we just had went from hot to something I never want to think about again. To think, I was hoping to start a life with this woman. How could I be so blind? I leave the table and turn my head from her. All I can see is the exit as I walk forward. My vision is blurred with anger and despair.

“Goodbye, Vi,” I whisper to myself. “Goodbye, forever.”

Virginia

I fucked up my only chance at forever. With two hands against his chest, I felt his heart pumping with the rhythm of my own. And then, with the sound of my voice, I let the beat crash into a violent crescendo. I watched as the city of our love burned away. I blew out the last candle and he drifted from me as fast as our eyes met on that first night.

I can’t stop thinking about everything as I slowly pack my things. Leave this city… I have two days to get out of here, but I have nowhere to go. I can’t come up with those plans right now. Nothing really makes any sense. Why I told him, why I put myself in this situation… it’s all beyond me.

I couldn’t keep the lie at the center of our love. If I did, it tainted the whole thing. Honesty, truth, and being 100 percent real is what love is really about. So in that sense, I don’t regret a thing. Anyway, I knew this was going to be our fate. I knew from the very start.

When something like this happens, you just wish you could go back in time. The whole time you’re righting these wrongs, you see it with open and clear eyes. You keep asking yourself, “Why are you doing this?” But there is no response. You watch as you commit these wrongs, over and over again. The cycle of disappointment is never broken.

I guess this is just part of my story. Eternal unhappiness. The girl that loves to fuck it all up. Look at where I am and look at where everyone else is who once surrounded me. Craig is dying. Elroy is rotting in jail. Warren Marshall’s heart has been crushed to dust. But I’m left here, as I always am, a stone, waiting for the end to come.

I zip up my bags and sit in bed, crying to myself. The pain is never-ending. This time, I don’t think I’m coming back from it. I picture myself as an old spinster, rotting away in an apartment somewhere. I deserve it, anyway.

I can’t be with anyone else. I don’t want to. All I want is Marshall. I want to fix things that cannot be fixed. We had such big plans. We were going to go to Mexico together. We were going to travel and discover ourselves. We were supposed to grow old together, dammit.

I guess I need to stop thinking about it. It only makes things worse. Only, I can’t get the image of how this all started out of my head. Running from the bank, escaping, and ending up at that bar was like fate guiding us together. When I bumped into him, I couldn’t believe my eyes. The fear was so immense. And yet, something kept me there. Sure, I was scared, but I was also enamored almost immediately. His charisma and confidence was like nothing I had ever experienced before.

I knew I had to stay and talk with him. I couldn’t say no and walk away because then I’d never know what could’ve been. Well, I know now. What could’ve been was everything. And I let it crash to pieces.

Marshall

Have you ever felt your heart physically hurt inside your body? Before now, I had never felt that. Before Vi, things were always normal. It wasn’t the most exciting life, but there wasn’t any pain attached to it. I just did my job, went out with some women to pass the time, and went to sleep. That’s how it was before her. I led a simple life.

Now, everything has fallen apart. Picture this: a grown man as sexy as me, laying on his bathroom floor with a bottle of bourbon in hand. It ain’t a pretty picture, right? That’s what this woman has done to me. She makes my head spin, my stomach turn, and my eyes wince.

She knew what was going to happen. She did it anyway. Of course she did. Why wouldn’t she? Here’s a woman who’s hell bent on playing games. From the very first night we met, she wanted to destroy everything that I had become. To her, I was just the enemy, waiting to bring her down. Yet, I had no fucking clue.

Vi. A bank robber. A criminal. It’s unfathomable to me. This woman has put me in the worst position known to man.

Lying on my bathroom floor, I hear my phone vibrate. I glance at the screen, but I can’t make out the name. I’m too fucking drunk and heartbroken for this shit. I answer it anyway, hearing Adam’s stupid voice in the phone. I can’t let him know about Virginia. He’d rub it in my face, gladly.

“Where are you, man?” he asks. “You were supposed to be here over an hour ago.”

“I’m piss drunk,” I say. “Leave me the hell alone.”

“You’re what?!” he screams. I can hear him scurrying out of the station. Outside, I can hear the cars whizz by. It’s about 9 AM and my head is throbbing. The thought of going out into the real world right now completely disturbs me. How could anyone do that at a time like this?

“Man, you have to be here. Craig just woke up from his coma. We’re hoping to get some information out of him later today,” he says.

“Fuck,” I groan. “The bastard woke up already? You’re not going to get any answers today. It’s too soon.” My words are slurred, but I’m capable of forming some coherent sentences at least.

“You need to be here. Freddie’s going to flip,” he says.

“Tell him I’ve got a fever. I’m puking my brains out. Tell him anything. I don’t give a damn. I can’t drive a car, let alone walk into work like this,” I tell him.

“Dammit, Marshall,” he sighs. “I’m coming over. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Like hell you are!” I scream, but he just hangs up the phone. “Bastard.”

It feels like only seconds have passed when he knocks on my door. “Come in!” I yell, unable to pick myself off the ground.

I hear his footsteps in the hallway. I look up and see him standing over me. “You weren’t lying,” he laughs. “You’re totally fucked up, aren’t you?”

“Shut the fuck up, Adam,” I say. “Don’t be like that, right now. I’m hurting.”

“Headache? You need some Advil?” he asks.

“It’s my heart, dammit,” I say. “She took my heart, squished it in her hands, threw it on the pavement, and stepped all over it. She broke it into a million pieces. Now, I’ve got nothing to live for. Nothing.”

“Jesus, man,” he leans over and hands me a water bottle. “I’ve never seen you like this before. I thought women were a dime a dozen to you.”

“You envy me, right? You envy this?” I laugh with malice. “Women used to mean nothing to me. And then I met her. Virginia!”

I’m an embarrassing piece of shit. At least, that’s how I feel. Melodramatic. A man isn’t supposed to hurt like this. He’s supposed to pick himself up, dust off his jeans, and get back into the ring. Instead, I’m laying on the floor, drunk as hell, and I’m on the verge of tears.

“What happened?” he asks me.

“Why’d you always blame her, man?” I skip over his question. “You always made her out to be a criminal.”

“I didn’t,” he says. “Elroy said that the woman—”

“Fuck Elroy!” I yell, sitting up. The room starts to spin, but I manage to stop it in my head. “We were partners. You’re supposed to stick by me, man. You can’t go around blaming people for shit they didn’t do.”

“I wasn’t blaming her. I was keeping the option open. This case is important to me,” he says. Anyway, he was right. He doesn’t know it, but he hit the nail right on the head.

“Well, you can fuck off with your assumptions,” I say. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter anymore. She’s gone. She left me for good.”

“I don’t understand. I thought you were in love,” he says. “I saw you two together yesterday. You looked happy enough.”

That was back when life was perfect. Funny how it wasn’t that long ago, but it feels like another life entirely. “Shit happened, okay? She’s gone. Let’s leave it at that,” I say. “And I’m not coming into work. Not today, anyway.”

“You don’t want to be the one to question Craig?” he asks. “You sure? It wouldn’t bring you any joy?”

“I’m done caring about justice.” I smile. “You hear me? Done. I’ll be there tomorrow. Talk to Craig. I don’t give a flying fuck what happens.”

He gets up from kneeling next to me and shakes his head. “Get some rest, man. You’re losing it. I miss the old Marshall,” he says. I feel an angered sadness waiting to burst inside of me. He misses the old Marshall? Well, shit. I wish I’d never been born in the first place. Then, Virginia couldn’t have broken my heart.

“See you tomorrow,” I whisper. Tomorrow. Sure.

Marshall

The next day, I wake up feeling shittier than ever. I’m too sober to run away from the pain. Now, nothing matters to me. I’m as blank as a man can be. In some odd way, this gives me defiant strength. I walk into the station, ready to bring this case to rest.

“Bring me to Craig,” I say. Adam glances up at me from his desk and smiles.

“You’re finally ready?” he asks me. “You look a hell of a lot better than yesterday.”

“I’m fine,” I say. “Just a bad day. You ever have one of those? Come on. You ready to get this over with?”

“I’ve been dying to,” he says, grabbing his keys. We storm out of the building so fast that even Freddie is bewildered.

“Freddie’s tried his tactics on him, but he’s not budging. The guy keeps claiming he can’t remember anything, like he’s got amnesia or something.”

“Bullshit,” I laugh. “He knows exactly where he is. The man doesn’t want to go to jail, but he’s going to end up there, regardless.”

“I figure you’re the one for the job, not Freddie. This is your area of expertise,” he says. “Let’s just hope he tells us who the third party is. That woman.”

Virginia. The woman who broke my soul. What am I going to do with her and the knowledge she gave me? The hard pill to swallow isn’t that she committed the crime. I can deal with that eventually. It just takes some time. No, the worst part is feeling how checked out I am. And it’s all because of her. After this case, I’ll surely quit the force. It’s my time. The woman I loved duped me. You can’t come back from something like that.

“Something tells me she’s long gone,” I say.

I think of her packing her things. I imagine her leaving town in a taxi. Maybe she’ll take a boat overseas somewhere. Maybe she’ll end up in Mexico by herself. Without me.

Fuck, we had so many plans. We were going to conquer the world. I really felt like we would. How can it all be over? The heavy blows come in waves of pain and misunderstanding. Confusion. It’s part of the grieving process. Sometimes I find myself denying that it ever happened. Other times, it’s just so fucking obvious. In the end, you don’t know what to believe. You just know that it’s not how it was anymore.

We pull into the hospital, walk through those blue doors, and come across Craig Richardson’s room. The doctor is standing in front of the door, blocking our access.

“Move aside, please,” Adam says. “We have a court order.”

“I won’t let you terrorize this man during the healing process,” the doctor says. “He deserves to get better.”

“Look,” I sigh. “I’ve had a really fucking hard couple of days. The least you can do is let us through.”

“Frankly, I don’t care about your last couple of days. I’m a doctor. I focus on health.”

I let him have his say. Sure. When he’s finished I say, “This man killed someone six years. He killed someone and then robbed two banks. He doesn’t get time to fucking heal. People like him don’t deserve time,” I say, fed up with all the bullshit.

“Excuse me?” he asks, confused.

“Move aside or you’re under arrest,” I say. When he doesn’t move, I push him aside.

“Calm down, Marshall,” Adam whispers.

“I don’t give a damn anymore, Adam,” I tell him honestly. Then, I face Craig. Can you believe it? The bastard actually has a smile on his face. Even with the tubes coming out of his nose, he’s smiling. “Craig Richardson. I’ve been waiting weeks to talk to you.”

“Marshall,” he whispers, out of breath. “We finally meet.”

“It’s a real pleasure,” I say.

“I want to speak to you alone,” he says. “I won’t talk if this man stays in the room with us. I don’t trust him.”

“He’s under strict orders to stay,” I say. Though, I wish he’d leave as well. “I’m sorry, but he’s gotta stay.”

“Then you get nothing from me,” he says. “I’m very weak. I think I’ll go to sleep for a while.”

“It’s fine,” Adam sighs. “I’ll wait outside. You got this?”

“Yeah,” I groan. “I got this.”

Adam exits the room and closes the door. “Make sure it’s shut,” Craig says. “We have some things to discuss, no doubt.”

The door is definitely shut and I doubt Adam can hear anything. I can see him sitting against an opposite wall outside. I get right to the point with this guy.

“Virginia,” I say.

He nods and smiles. “So, you already know?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I sigh. “I know too much.”

“You’re not going to turn her in, are you?” he asks with a concerned look on his face.

“Why do you want to protect her so badly?” I ask him. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t turn her in right now?”

“Well, for one, you withheld the information for quite a long time,” he says. “How’s that going to look to the feds in there?”

“I just found out. I’m not withholding shit,” I say.

“Oh, so your partner knows? That’s good. I was under the impression he was being kept in the dark,” he smiles.

“What’s your fucking point?” I ask, getting irritated.

“The point is, we’re all capable of making mistakes. Even you. Mister police man. Mister fucking hero,” he says.

“I’ve never killed anyone. I’ve never robbed a bank,” I say. “I don’t take from people. I try and do my best. That’s the difference between me and you.”

“And the difference between you and Virginia, I suppose?” he laughs, but it hurts him to strain his stomach.

“Me and Virginia are done,” I say. “For good.”

“Cute,” he says. “Anyway, it’s none of my business. I’m not out to turn her in. I know I’m going to prison for a very long time.”

“Yeah,” I mutter. “After this case, I’m done working for the force. You at least won on that front.”

“Justice, right?” he laughs. “I don’t really give a damn. It’s all so inconsequential.”

“What do you care about, Craig?” I ask.

“I cared about leaving this place. Now, I’m stuck here forever. Funny how that goes,” he says.

“You’ll admit to everything? The murder… everything?” I ask him.

“Why not? I have nothing to live for anymore. Might as well start living truthfully,” he says. When he can tell I’m not buying it, he adds, “Don’t worry. I’ll help your case, but I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for Virginia.”

“Vi?” I frown. “Why? You think she cares about you?”

“You’re wrong about her, Marshall. Deep down, she’s a really good woman who got conned into a false narrative,” he says.

“She used me,” I look away. “She used me to get information out of the case. I know she did, dammit.”

“You know, she kept your relationship somewhat of a secret to us,” he admits. “We had to pry it out of her. I don’t think you know her intentions as well as you think. Goodbye, Marshall.”

“See you in court,” I mutter, walking out the door. When I turn to look at him one last time, he’s got his eyes closed and he’s breathing heavy.

“What happened in there?” Adam asks me right away.

“He’s going to play ball in court, that’s what happened,” I say. “Can we go home now?”

“You did it? It was that easy?” he looks astonished.

“Yeah, well, I’ve stopped giving a fuck ever since… well, ever since Vi left me. I guess it’s helped me in the long run.” I give a short smile.

He nods and thinks to himself for a minute. “And the woman who helped them? Who was she?”

“You try asking him. They won’t budge on that bit,” he says. “My guess? She’s far away from here now, sailing near the coast of Mexico.”

I think about Virginia, all alone. She’s probably on some boat somewhere, looking back at Texas. She’s no doubt remembering what we had. I can’t forget it either. She’s starting a new life now. Only, it’s without me.

Virginia

I hop in the cab and drive toward the docks. It’s a couple of hours away. There’s nothing left for me here. Now that Marshall has sworn me off, I don’t know what to do. There’s no forgiveness in this world that’s large enough for me.

I always wanted a love like the one I had with Marshall. Sometimes that comes with unforeseen consequences. You can’t give the other person the full truth when you first meet them. That would be impossible. But I’ve learned now that if you swear off the truth for good, it’ll come back to haunt you, one way or another.

“It’s right over here,” I say, pointing toward the docks. “Go slow and I’ll find the boat.”

“What in the world is a woman like you doing in the cargo docks?” The cabbie shakes his head in disbelief.

“I’m catching a ride out of here,” I laugh, though it’s completely true.

He laughs it off like it’s a joke as well. No one takes a ride in a cargo boat. It’s a long and dangerous journey, but it’s really the only way out of here. My ride to Europe has been effectively compromised, as the money never got to our guy. I could try a bus to Mexico, but that means going through the border checkpoints. No, this is my best bet. A small space in a boat full of packages. Luckily, I’ve brought enough food and water to survive a week down there.

I get out of the cab and hand him some money. “Thank you,” I say. “For everything.”

“It’s just a ride, lady,” he says, getting back in the car. Before he slams the door, he says, “Hey, uh. Be careful. Whatever you’re doing doesn’t seem so straight. I’m not going to butt in your business, but make sure this is what you really want to do. Good luck, miss.”

I watch as the taxi drives away. I’m alone. All alone. I don’t know how to feel anymore. Sometimes I think about the future and it seems so wide open. So many possibilities, you know? Other times, like now, it feels so small and empty.

I want Marshall. I want him so fucking bad.

Before the cab, I did something stupid. I had a brief moral dilemma. I may be leaving the country because I have to. I can’t go to prison for half my life. Still, I wanted to make things right again. That’s why I grabbed my money and threw it into a big duffel bag. I made sure everything was clean. No fingerprints. No tracing the money to me. Anyway, it won’t matter once I’m out of the country.

I took my chunk of the money and I marched it down to the police department. I have to say, seeing all those police cars made me nervous. Still, I look like a normal girl. A cop walked by me, tilted his hat and said, “Ma’am.” I simply smiled and kept walking.

I left the bag in the front, right next to the door, note attached to the zipper. The note was short and to the point: “I regret taking this. Have it back. I don’t want to carry this weight any longer.” That was that. I walked away from the station and no one said a word to me.

Now, I’m on the docks and I have an hour to spare. I nestle my bag against a concrete pillar, near the water. I see a small vendor in the distance, where all the workers are eating their lunches. I walk up and the crowd starts whistling at me, but I ignore it. I don’t feel like my normal self anymore. If anything, I feel like a ghost.

“I’ll take a Coke, please,” I tell the vendor. He reaches in an ice cooler and pulls out a can of soda. I hand him two dollars and breathe a sigh of relief. I’m almost out of here. Just another hour of waiting and my boat will be here.

“Virginia?” I hear a voice call my name. I freeze, unable to bring myself to turn around. The voice is strangely familiar, yet distant from me. “It’s you! I thought it was you.”

I feel a hand fall against my shoulder and I shudder with fear. Who would know that I’m here? Nobody. Not even Marshall would know. I slowly turn around and see him. Oh, God. It’s Adam, and he’s got the cockiest smile plastered across his face. He knows he’s hit the jackpot. He’s won the game. Checkmate. It’s over.

“Adam?” I ask because I have nothing else to say.

“What’re you doing down here?” he asks me. “It’s so weird to be running into you here.”

My brain scrambles to make something up. Anything. I just need a good story. Fuck! “I’m, uh, visiting my dad down here. He works for the union here.”

“Works for the union, that’s great,” he says, still smiling. He knows he’s got me in a lie. I look past him to see if any other cops have followed. There’s a man on a bench, reading the newspaper. He glances up at me, smiles, and then looks back down at his paper. I can’t figure out who’s watching me, and who’s just an innocent bystander.

“Yeah, pretty great,” I bounce on the back of my heesl, ready to run out of here if I have to. I’ll jump in the fucking water. I’ll swim away. I’ll… I’m so screwed.

“Hey, listen,” he continues, “I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

“Sure,” I say. “I could help tomorrow. What do you have in mind?” Just leave. Please, just leave, Adam. Let me get on with my life. It’s all I want. I’ll never hurt anyone again. I’ll never break another damn law. I won’t even jaywalk.

“Well, I’d actually need your help now. That’s the problem. I’m in a hurry,” he says. “Craig Richardson. You know him?”

“I heard about him on the news,” I lie. “Isn’t he dying or something?”

“Actually, he woke up,” he smiles. “He’s going to play ball with the authorities. We’re pretty happy.”

“That’s really great, Adam,” I say. “Tell Marshall I say congratulations.”

“Well, that’s the thing. He’s all broken up about what happened between you two,” he says. “But I know that you two were like two peas in a pod. You were both so cute together.”

“Yeah, well,” I sigh. “Things happen, you know?”

“Yeah, but before you catch that boat out of here, I thought you could head down to the station with me and talk things over with him,” he says. My stomach completely drops. “You can grab your suitcase before we go. It’ll only be a couple of hours.”

“What?” I ask. “Adam… what’re you saying to me?”

“I’m just saying, before you leave on that cargo boat. You know, the one you paid $500 for?” he waits for me to respond, but I’m choking on my air.

I stutter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Adam. I—”

“Don’t play dumb with me.” He turns angry. “I know it was you. I know you kept Marshall close so you could try and get around the case, but I’m onto you. You just lost.”

“I didn’t do anything,” I say, looking behind me for an escape route. There’s no way out of this, however. I’m stuck.

“I know that Marshall knows too,” he goes on. “You can’t fool me. You’re caught. Virginia Greene, you’re under arrest for the crime of—”

“No,” I whisper, feeling faint. “No! You can’t do this. I didn’t do anything.”

“…for the crimes of armed robbery and obstruction of justice…” His words fade like fog rolling into the day. I can’t pay attention to anything he’s saying. All I know is that I’m caught. This is my worst fear come true. He starts reading my rights, but it just feels like a death sentence to me.

“I can’t,” I whisper. “I can’t go to jail.”

He keeps talking and his words are muffled. I feel a surge of adrenaline coursing through my body and, finally, I allow myself to take a chance. I flee the scene.

That’s right. I run as fast as I fucking can. Turns out, I’m pretty fast. I climb up a shipping container and begin running across the line of them. He darts around the side, trying to cut me off. At the end of the line, I jump off, and continue running. I look back and he’s behind me, but he’s got a good distance he needs to cover. What’s best? No one else is following me. The guy came after me alone, breaking protocol, no doubt.

“Come on Vi,” I whisper to myself. I turn a corner and see my suitcase. In front of me is the Cargo boat I needed to take, just pulling in. I won’t be able to take it this time. Another time, maybe. As for now, I keep running. I turn right and run straight until I’m face to face with a busy road.

There’s a cab parked on the side, so I jump in. “Take me out of here!” I scream.

“Where do you want to go?” he asks.

“Downtown! Oh, God. Just drive! Please,” I beg.

Outside my window, I can see Adam running my way. He’s got his gun in his hand and he’s getting closer by the second.

“I can’t go to Downtown right now. Too far. Sorry,” he says.

“Then go anywhere!” I yell.

“You need to settle down, lady. I don’t take orders from customers. Get out of my cab,” he says.

“No, no, no.” I start to cry. “I’m sorry. Please. I need a ride out of here.”

It all happens in slow motion. Adam’s elbow comes crashing into the taxi’s window. Glass shoots out everywhere. His hand grabs my shirt and he pulls me toward the door. I try and kick at him, but it only buys me a few more seconds of freedom.

I feel those handcuffs wrap around my wrists and everything turns black. My whole world falls apart. “You’re under arrest,” Adam says.

Marshall

I’m spinning with confusion. I thought I could go on living without her and continuing my old life, but it’s harder than I thought. I keep going back to the night I met that woman. That night changed my life forever. Despite her being a criminal and completely lying to me, I can’t dispute the fact that she opened my eyes to a different life.

Before her, I was content, but I wasn’t living my life in the way that I truly wanted to. I was just floating by and waiting for the day I’d get my pension. Now, it’s like I’ve let the sun in my life in a certain kind of way. Whatever happens in the next few days, I can hold my head up high because I’m not taking this shit any longer. When this case is over and done with, I’ll be gone, travelling the world.

But I can’t go by myself. I just can’t.

When I get to the station the next day, I see a large duffle bag and a note near the door. Freddie walks up next to me and puts his hands on his hips. “What do you think it is?” he asks me.

I shrug. “I don’t know, but there’s a note.” I read the note aloud and Freddie just laughs.

“Why on earth would you return the money? You’re still guilty in a court of law,” he says.

“Some people just can’t live with the guilt,” I say. “Too bad you can’t turn back time.”

I think of Virginia again. She could be anywhere by now. “Where’s Adam?” I ask one of the guys.

“He said he was going down by the docks. He thinks he found something with the case. Something big,” he says.

“And you didn’t think to call me? You know that’s against protocol, right?” I ask him, pissed. He just shrugs. “Dammit!”

I walk out the door and my heart is racing. I get into one of the patrol cars and take off, heading south. There are only a few ports out of here, but she’ll choose the closest one. Still, it’s far away, forcing me to keep my eyes open to every car going in the opposite direction.

I’m going about 110 in the left lane, and I’m not stopping. My foot is slammed against the pedal. It’s make or break time. Am I going to get her out of this mess? There’s no way I can do it without it getting messy. What do I do? Beg Adam? No. Of course not. I’m going to have to turn on my partner. I’m going to have to come up with a plan.

* * *

I slowly pull up to the docks and get out, making sure I keep a low profile. After searching for 15 minutes, I come across Adam’s car. It’s parked and completely empty. I have some time, but probably not that much. My hope is that he didn’t call for backup.

I keep walking, toward the workers at the docks. There’s a small vendor selling some food and drinks. Nearby, I see her. And there’s Adam, talking to her. She looks nervous. No, she looks worse than nervous. She looks hopeless and sad. A sense of guilt starts to creep in my body. My Virginia. The love of my life. Vi… How could I let her down like this?

Maybe it’s for the best. Adam was onto her from the get go, it seems. Now, he’s got her where he’s always wanted her. He’s won his little game. He’ll get his promotion. I’ll get fired, no doubt. There’ll be an investigation. I won’t get charged. Cops don’t get charged. We get torn apart by the media. The city will despise me. Hell, I probably deserve it.

I deserve it all for being so blind to everything. But I don’t give a fuck anymore. I’m not here to play by the rules. I’m here to break them. I’m here to shake things up. I won’t be a pawn in Adam’s twisted game. I’m my own person, who happens to be in love with a known criminal. Fuck it. Sometimes that’s just how life is.

She makes a run for it and a chase ensues. She’s a damn good escape artist, but it’s obvious where she’s trying to go. Within minutes, she gets inside a cab. I’m hoping she doesn’t take off. If she does, the whole squad will go after her and it won’t be long before that driver stops for them.

I watch as Adam smashes the taxi window. He throws on the cuffs and pulls her out. “Hey,” I mutter to myself. “Don’t you dare fucking hurt her.”

I’m getting close. My hand is on my weapon. This is not who I am. This is against everything the department stands for. But Adam is getting rough with her. He slams her down across the pavement and places his knee across her back. “Stand down!” I hear him yell. “Stop resisting!”

She’s not resisting. She’s fully compliant, except for the fact that she’s writhing against his knee. It’s a normal reaction.

I can’t take this anymore. Sometimes cops don’t deliver true justice. When that happens, someone needs to take a stand. My career over there is done. Even if it wasn’t, I’m checked out. You want to know the honest truth? I want Virginia back. I want that feeling she gave me back. I want to feel the thrill of starting a new life with the woman I love. I love Vi. She’s the only good thing left in my life.

“Adam! Stand down!” I scream, getting close to him. He turns his head and immediately points his gun at me.

“Stay back, Marshall!” he yells. “This isn’t about you. This is about Virginia Greene.”

“I’m not here to hurt you,” I say. “Just put the gun down. We’ll figure this out together. We’re partners, remember?”

“You knew all along, didn’t you?” he asks, hurt. “You hid this from me since day one. We were never partners. Admit it. You always thought I was stupid.”

“I didn’t know until a few days ago. That’s the God honest truth,” I admit. “Adam, put the gun down!”

Virginia is on the concrete, hands bound behind her back. She’s looking straight at me with those beautiful eyes. Only, they’re full of tears, hurt, and pain. I never want to see her like that. I want to protect her, always. I failed this time, but I won’t ever again.

“Marshall, just let me go,” she pleads. “It’s over. I can’t run forever.”

“Vi,” I say. “I love you. I’m sorry about everything. I don’t care about the past. I just want a future with you.”

“Stay the fuck back!” Adam screams, shaking with anger. “Warren Marshall, you’re under arrest.”

“Fuck off,” I spit. I start walking forward without any fear. “Face me like a man.”

“I’m warning you,” he says. “Stay back.”

“What?” I laugh. “You’re going to shoot a cop?”

The bang comes as a huge shock. At first, I stand there in disbelief. My ears are ringing and the smoke from the barrel is looming all around me. “No!” Virginia screams.

I fall to the ground and Adam drops his gun. What he doesn’t know is that I’m wearing a heavy-duty artillery vest, straight from the swat team’s supply room. Still, the bullet knocked the fucking wind out of me. I struggle not to move erratically and give myself away, taking small breaths in. I’m not going to lie. It hurts like fucking hell and I’m pretty sure one of my ribs is cracked.

“Marshall.” Adam runs over to check my pulse. My hand is still fixed around my pistol. “You ain’t dead, right? Come on, man. Hang in there.”

I don’t say a word. He just keeps going on, trying to lay the blame on me. “You shouldn’t have come at me,” he says. “I would have never pulled the trigger.”

Around us, a crowd has started to form. Quickly, Adam checks for my pulse. Now’s my time to act. I throw up a leg and kick him in the jaw. I kick his gun away and hold my pistol, pointing it at his heart.

“I’m okay, Vi,” I say. “I’m getting you out of this mess.”

She’s not saying a word and I don’t have time to look her way.

“No fucking way,” Adam says. “No! This is my case. You can’t ruin this for me.”

“I need you to get on the ground. Put your hands behind your back,” I say. “If you don’t, I’m going to lodge this bullet directly into your groin. Got it?”

He falls to the ground and puts his hands behind his back. I cuff him quickly and keep my gun at him. “Vi!” I yell. “Can you walk?”

She gets up and comes toward me. I uncuff her and hug her quickly. “There’s no time,” she says. “I have to leave. I’m… I’m sorry for everything.”

“I’m coming with you,” I tell her. “I shouldn’t have ever let you go.”

“Marshall, you can’t. You have a life here,” she says. “I don’t deserve you.”

Adam tries getting back up, but I kick him back down on the ground. He groans in pain. “Look, I broke too many rules. I’m done with policing. I want an out. I want to be with the woman I love. Do you love me still?” I ask her. “It was all real, right? The emotions? The things you said to me?”

“I’ve never fallen so deeply in love with anyone before,” she says. “I made so many terrible decisions. If you want to be with me, you have to know that life won’t be easy for us. We’ll have to get new identities. We won’t be normal. We’ll be outcasts forever.”

“I don’t give a fuck what we are. As long as I’m with you, my life is complete,” I say. “So give me your hand and lets get the hell out of this place.”

She looks at me with a slight hesitance. Tears fall down her cheeks and she makes no attempt to brush them away. She grabs my hand and I pull her close to me. “My Virginia Slim,” I smile. Our lips crash together and all the goodness in the world floods into my heart. Her scent, her taste, and her touch all comes back with a familiarity.

I’ve missed this woman so fucking much. It doesn’t matter that we come from opposite sides of the spectrum. We’ve found our middle ground. We’ve decided to live our lives dedicated to our love.

Our lips slide away from each other’s and we open our eyes. In the distance, sirens can be heard. I look over at Adam, who’s looking up at us, dumbfounded.

“Traitor,” he says, shaking his head.

“I’d rather be a traitor than work with the likes of you,” I say.

“There’s no time for this. Let’s go!” she yells, running toward the leaving cargo boat. It begins pulling away from the dock. There’s no time to spare. This is it.

We both hop on at the last second and watch as we float away from the pier. Adam keeps his eyes fixed on me. I stare back at him, knowing this is going to be the big sensation on every news channel for the next year. The sirens are ringing out. Police cars are getting closer, but we’re already far away.

I’m a wanted man now, but I have love. I have her. Maybe this makes me crazy, but I’ve never wanted anything more. Never.

Virginia

“Are you crazy?” I ask him. I’m not smiling. I’m just completely confused at this point. “What are you doing trying to rescue me? I should be going to jail.”

He just laughs and kisses me, bringing me closer to him than ever before. “The only place you should be right now is in my arms,” he says.

“This is insane,” I say, falling to the floor. I lay down and stare up at the sky. “Oh, God. We’re going to be on the run forever. You shouldn’t have come with me.”

“I’m in this too now and I’ve never felt better,” he says. “I’ve been on the run my whole life, only I didn’t know it before. Now, at least my life has some purpose. No more living under the confines of the department.”

I’m so confused, mad, and just about every emotion under the sun right now. Of course, I’m happy too. It’s just that, it’s not over yet. “They’ll be coming after us soon,” I say.

“Sure they will. And guess what? We’ll be in Mexico drinking margaritas at la playa,” he says, so sure of himself.

“No. No we won’t. We’ll be hiding out in some shack somewhere, until we can get further away from the border. There’s not going to be any beaches, Marshall. It’s going to be rough,” I say. He needs to know the stakes because right now, they’re really high. I’ve been on the run for weeks now. Things have only gotten crazier for me.

“Relax,” he laughs. “I get that. You forgot that rough is my middle name.”

He starts unbuttoning his shirt. It’s a hot day out and the sun is shining directly on us. Nearby, we can hear a helicopter scour the water. “We should hide,” he says, pulling me in a random direction. We get to an open shipping container and sit inside it, carefully.

I’m sitting nearly on top of him, when he takes off his shirt. “Come here,” he says.

“Okay,” I whisper.

“Don’t be scared. We’re going to get away with this. Yeah, it’s going to be hard, but good things come from hard work, right?” he asks. I nod carefully. “I don’t give a damn what happens as long as I’m with you. I’ve gone crazy, sure. But it’s how I feel. Truly.”

I rest my head against his chest. I’ve missed the way my body feels when he holds me like this. I’ve missed the way he smells. I’ve even missed his stupid arrogance. And, God, that smile of his… he’s so handsome it makes me sick.

We sit in silence as the helicopters fly over our boat. We hold our breaths and listen as it fans past us. We escaped it, but we’ll have to leave this boat soon enough. “When we get there,” he says, “just follow my lead. Last thing you want to do is get caught sneaking into Mexico.”

I nod, but I’m not thinking about that right now. Right now, I’m only paying attention to his body. There’s so much to worry about. Yet, it only excites me now. What the future holds is completely unknown to us, but that’s just it! There’s us again. There’s we. We’re together.

“I’ve missed this,” I whisper.

He looks down at me and smiles. His eyes bear the understanding of the situation, but they betray themselves when he looks elsewhere. My face is so close to his cock and he wants me to suck him dry. I want to please him again, to show him what he’s going to get for the rest of his life.

“Baby,” he whispers. “My sweet darling, Vi.”

“I’m wet,” I reveal. “Touch me.”

He slides two fingers underneath the top of my jean shorts. He pushes them under until he feels me. My breath is sharp and quick when he touches me, while his is deep and long lasting. We have a hunger for each other, a thirst that cannot be quenched.

We both unbutton our clothes, until we’re wrestling against each other. My hand is around his thick and very hard shaft, stroking him and ultimately, teasing myself. Our lips are crushing against one another’s, opening just for the bit of tongue that begs to taste.

I immediately begin riding him. I don’t want to waste any more time. I just want to feel him again. I press my pussy down and ride the hell out of him. In and out, he pumps short thrusts upward, as the tingling starts to grow in my spine. I moan loudly, holding onto him tight. His muscles soon wrap around my body and I’m forced to give into him fully.

“I’ve missed hearing you moan.” His hands fall to my waist. Gripping down around my skin, he holds on and pushes me up and down. I go with his rhythm, feeling the pleasure start to escape me. I look down at him and we kiss. His thrusting grows faster and faster, harder and deeper. He’s not letting go. My nails claw down his back. I hold onto him and I feel myself dissipating.

Wave upon wave of pleasure shoots throughout my body. It starts with my legs, moving up through my spine. “Oh, Marshall!” I scream. “Fuck me!” He doesn’t let up. He keeps pounding my sweet pussy, and I cum over and over again for him.

His balls draw up and he’s left speechless. I feel him shoot his warm cum inside me. “Let’s get married,” he says, suddenly, with a look of strain in his face. He finishes cumming and kisses each breast. He sucks on the ends of my nipples, cupping the bottom of my tits.

“I don’t have any ring to give you right now,” he says, out of breath. “But I’ll give you the world if you let me. Let’s get married. Tomorrow. We’ll find a priest. It doesn’t matter who does it as long as it’s done.”

“Marshall,” I laugh with excitement. “You don’t have to go on. Let’s do it. Let’s get married!”

“Could life get any better than this?” he throws his hands behind his head with air of relaxation.

“Probably.” I can’t help but laugh. “We’re stuck in a metal box, baby. These are situations people try and stay away from.”

“Well, they’re fools,” he says confidently. “Even in here, with you, I’m as free as I’ll ever be.”

It’s true. I should be more worried than I am, but I feel as if things will work out now. In the weirdest way, we got what we asked for. We’re almost there. We’re so close. I can feel it.

Marshall

Getting off the boat was the least of our worries. All we had to do was give some money to the guys at the docks. They weren’t going to say a word. We walk into town with nothing but her suitcase and the clothes on my back. We find a cheap motel and we begin our life together. This is the kind of life I used to stand against. Now, it’s my perfect reality.

There’s just one small thing I want to do before we find our stake over here.

“Priest,” I say to a man near a church, late at night. “El sacerdote?”

The man smiles, understanding what I’m looking for. “Sí, sí!” he exclaims. He brings us inside the small church and I give him some pesos for his help. The man shakes our hands and shows us where the priest sleeps inside the church.

We knock gently on the door. “Maybe we should come back in the morning,” she says. But I want to do this now. This is more important than anything else.

“And get caught by the federales? Hell no,” I say. “This is our chance.”

“But we have nowhere to go,” she laughs, uncertain of the whole situation. “I know a few people. A couple of gringos that run a few farms down here. We’ll work for them and open our own thing. We’ll live well down here. I promise you. I’m going to be the best damn husband in the world.”

I knock on the door again and a man finally opens it slowly, looking out of the crack of the door. “El sacerdote?” I ask him. “Priest?”

He nods. “Yes, I am a priest,” he says in slow English.

I laugh and hug Virginia. “Can you marry us?” I ask him. “Por favor. Ceremonia de boda. Tú?” My Spanish is shit and he knows it because he’s smiling.

“Sí. I can help you,” he says, glancing at the wallet in my hand. I give him a few bills and he nods, unlocking his door further. “Un momento,” he says. He turns around and grabs his priestly garb. I’m not a religious man myself, but it’s important to get the ceremony right. I want to remember this forever, even if it is under such extreme circumstances.

Back home, they’re searching for us. They know we’ve crossed the border, but chances are, Virginia and I aren’t on the government’s top priority list. I can picture Freddie Miles asking to send a team over here. Millions of tax payers’ dollars down the drain. They won’t allow it. Not for some half-assed robbery, in which the money was returned. No way.

We follow the priest out to the center of the church. He lights the candles around the altar and says a prayer. I never imagined I would get married, but since I am, this is the setting I want to do it in. Virginia seems to be in the same boat as me.

“It’s beautiful,” she says. The silence in the church is as deafening as it is humbling.

“I love you so much,” I whisper, my voice echoing throughout the long passageway.

The priest reads the ceremony by heart. His smile is big the whole time. “Because you come to me,” he says. “Your love will flourish forever.”

I do.

I do.

We kiss and it’s as if all the candles in the room grow for the minute our lips meet. “You are married!” he exclaims. “Be free!”

I pick her up in my arms. She’s got the same pair of jean shorts on as she did on the cargo boat. “Some wedding dress, huh?” she laughs.

“You don’t need a wedding dress. You’re beautiful in any outfit, darling,” I say. “But once things settle down, we’re going to have a huge ceremony. We’ll invite all our new friends. Everyone that we meet in this country. It’ll be incredible.”

That night, we stay close to one another. We cuddle up in our small room. The bed is practically made of one wooden plank, with a hardened army-style mattress plopped on top. It’s not comfy whatsoever, but we have each other. We laugh and turn on the television. We have no clue what’s being said, but it feels strangely liberating being without a language.

As we fall asleep, I can’t help but bask in the warmth of my happiness. “My wife,” I smile and kiss the back of her head. She smells so damn good, even without showering for the past day and a half. She’ll always be a breath of fresh air to me. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe I’m here with you.”

“Marshall?” she asks me, suddenly.

“Yes, baby?” I kiss her again.

“Let’s have a baby,” she says.

I don’t even need time to react. “I was hoping you’d say that.” I used to frown a lot. I used to get angry. Now, it’s like a smile has been glued to my face forever. “A baby now?” one might ask me. I’d respond to them with, “What better time?”

We make love. Her legs intertwine with mine as we kiss. The flickering lights of this cheap motel keep bouncing on and off. The television is blaring. Outside, someone can be heard laughing and telling stories. There’s life all around us.

Her sweet pussy lifts up in front of me, as she rests her arms and knees on the bed. “Take me,” she says.

I place my hands on the small of her back. I run my fingers down her spine. I’m forced to kiss every curve of her body before kissing those lips. I drop my body underneath her. My hands grope her huge tits. I suck on each nipple lightly and I come back down to her sweetness. She’s wet, of course, and I’m aching for her. My cock is practically bursting out of my boxers.

I lick her like it’s the first time. I enjoy her. She’s a taste of heaven, an angel fallen to this earth for me. The Morningstar of my dreams. We’ve had a hard time together, but that’s what makes us so fucking close. That’s what has kept us glued together. When I’m away from her, I dream of her body, her voice, and her mind.

My tongue slides across every crevice, slowing dipping into her hole. I suck her like a ripe fruit, making sure to savor every last drop. I worship her pussy like it’s God’s gift to the abysmal world. I’m on my knees, praying it’ll always be there for me, like this. She’s open and waiting for me.

Her legs move apart more as my tongue and lips close around her clit. I’m sucking, sucking, sucking on her and she’s getting closer to releasing for me. I can see her face in the motel mirror, staring at our reflection. Her cheeks have turned a rosy hue. Her back has arched considerably. Her knees are trembling from a sudden rising pressure.

I insert two fingers inside her and curl them against her spot. I groan loudly as my tongue starts sliding back and forth against her clit. I move faster. And faster. Faster than ever. She begins to moan with me. “Marshall!” she screams. She’s about to cum. I keep my mouth on her, intent on giving her the best damn orgasm she’s ever had. This is our wedding night. She deserves something special from me.

Finally, the front of her body falls against the hard bed. She starts shaking uncontrollably. Her face contorts with absolute pleasure. I insert a third finger inside her and start moving quickly, mouth still fixated on her clit. When it’s over, she’s pulsating slowly. Her breathing has released and, like a fever, she’s broke on through with a light sweat.

I waste no time when she says, “Give me a baby.” There’s nothing hotter to me now than keeping her by my side and giving her something so pure. I want to be the husband she dreamed about when she was a little girl. I want to be the father she and I never had. I want to protect them both, this being that I’m about to create.

I slide myself in slowly as she lay on her back, gazing wondrously into my eyes. She’s perfect, like apple pie on a hot, summer day. I dig in, pounding her relentlessly. When she reaches down and starts rubbing my balls, I can’t fucking contain myself. She smiles, knowing she’s driving me crazy. She whispers, “Cum, baby.”

Her smooth voice hits a spot inside my brain that lets out a beastly emotion. I moan loudly, looking at every part of her body. My left hand cups around her tit, feeling the heavy, smooth skin. My right hand moves over her soft stomach. I feel her skin and soak up every bit of her.

I’m going to cum. I can’t hold out any longer. I gaze into those hazel eyes and feel the pressure inside me burst. It starts between my legs, but moves up my spine. My mind opens up and I can see it all in front of me. The first night we met, the person I used to be, and everything else in between that led up to this moment. My cum comes bursting from me, shooting inside her like a loaded gun.

“Give it to me,” she whispers as if there’s even an option now.

I shudder lightly and kiss her stomach once more. I press my body down and kiss her sweet pussy. I rise back up and kiss her lips. Our tongues meet one more time before we’re too tired to stay awake. I give her a taste of herself and she gives a last moan of pleasure.

“A baby,” I smile. “I can’t believe we’re going to have a baby.”

“Marybell,” she says.

“What?” I ask.

“Her name should be Marybell,” she says. She already knows it’s a girl and I trust that she’s right.

I wipe the sweat off my forehead and run my hands through her hair. “Marybell,” I smile. “That’s the prettiest name I’ve ever heard.”

“She’s going to be so loved,” she says.

I hold her close. Our naked bodies are warm amongst the cold walls of the motel. “She’s going to a fucking princess,” I laugh. “I’m going to give her everything in the world. I want to be the best daddy known to man.”

“You will be,” she says. “And I know everything will work out for us. We’re too damn smart for it not to.”

That’s debatable on my end. But I let her have her say. Because right now, I’m on top of the fucking world.

Epilogue: Marshall

Years pass, but you always feel just about the same age. Sometimes, when you look back on things, they feel as if they just happened. Other times, it feels like a lifetime ago. I can’t believe I was a cop. In Texas, no less. I still have all the admiration in the world for the force. But now, things are different for me. It’s not like I followed any of their rules, anyway. I was bound to get out sooner or later.

Now, I’m the owner of my own produce company. We do business all the way into Arizona. I had to jump through a few hoops to get those jobs, but it can be done. Anything can be done with a little finesse and a little money. Luckily, we’ve managed to hit the gold mine out here, with a little help from our friends.

“Marybell, come on!” I yell. “I want to show you something.”

Today is Easter and it marks the 3rd year we’ve been a three-person family together. Like I said, I’m not a religious man, but I do think things hold a certain significance if you want them to. For us, this holiday is a good way of celebrating the birth of our family, for Marybell was born on April 2nd.

“Daddy!” She runs toward me. I pick her up in my arms and smile, even if she’s heavier than ever now. I’m just an old dad now, but I feel younger than ever. A kid can do that to you. “Look at that.” She points at a dried-up saguaro cactus on the side of the trail.

We’re always exploring the area together. Soon enough, we’ll be exploring the world, as a family. Once we get our passports approved, we’re taking a boat over to Europe. We’ve already saved enough money to do it.

“What is that?” I set her down near the cactus and examine it. All the sharp pricks have fallen off and now it looks like a hollow shell.

“An elephant trunk,” she says, proudly identifying it in her own way.

“An elephant trunk!” I laugh. “Well, I’ll be.”

Slowly, Vi walks up and kneels down with us. “Where are the other elephants?” she asks Marybell.

“Well, they must be close by,” I say.

“They’re at home, silly!” Marybell says, touching a part of the yellowing cactus. The world is so strange out here and she loves exploring. Soon, however, we’re moving to the city. We found a private school there that’s hailed as one of the best in the country. Parent shit. PTA meetings. Homework. Truth is, I’m actually excited.

Virginia

It’s not the life a lot of people envision for themselves. We’ve had to jump through a million hoops just to find normality. However, when I think back on my childhood, I would have killed to be in Marybell’s shoes. Truthfully, she has it made compared to both of us.

Our life is dedicated to our love and she is the perfect gift out of the shit storm we ran from. But it’s not like we have it perfect. We have the white-picket fence, the pool, the nicest house we could ask for, and a flourishing business, sure. But we’re still on the fringe of everything.

So when the lights seem dim and the cold worry from the world seems to burst in our doors, we bask in our warmth and huddle together. We tell stories and try to give Marybell as much as we can. We go out to restaurants, we take plenty of beach vacations in the west, and we start to build memories together.

When Marybell finally goes to sleep, we invest in ourselves. I can’t help but dive into the past, to think of all that we’ve escaped and done, all the wrongs I committed. My memory always drops into the fateful night we bumped into each other at the bar back home. I was so scared. So nervous about what he’d do to me. I didn’t know he’d become the center of my life. I didn’t understand how deep this would all get.

We’re getting older, but we grow closer every day. We build an empire with our love. We hold it down and cement it for future generations to wonder back on. This is the Marshall family, we say. Here’s our story. Look at all we’ve accomplished.

“Remember the candles?” he asks me, before bed. We’re close tonight, lost in the same dream together. His strong arms wrap around my cold body. He heats me up by sliding his hands over my ribs to my stomach.

“The candles?” I ask him.

“At our wedding,” he says. He kisses my cheek. I feel his cock rising against my pussy as he says the words. Some things never change.

“How could I forget?” I smile. I reach around and feel his shaft grow in my palm.

“Let’s do it again,” he says. “Let’s replay it all over.”

“I wish,” I say. “It’s been so…”

“Crazy,” he finishes my sentence. “So fucking wonderful. So fucking crazy.”

“It’s only going to get crazier. Once Marybell is all grown up, she’s going to start teaching us,” I laugh.

“I think we should have another one,” he says. “Let’s just keep going with this. Why the hell not?”

His hand is around my ass now. His fingers are moving toward my lips. He spreads me open and I moan quietly. “Come on,” he says. “You want this dick?”

Pompous bastard. And yes, I want that fucking dick, dammit. Another kid? Oh jeeze. I hate to say it, but it does actually sound kind of perfect. Just… not yet.

“Give me a year, you horn dog,” I say.

“You don’t want this?” he holds his cock proudly. He looks better than ever. As my tits drop lower, his body gets more chiseled. And yet, he loves me more than he did back when we first met.

“Give me that thing,” I say. He keeps his fingers against my lips, spreading me open. When he enters me, my mouth drops and my toes curl.

We still got it, that’s for sure. And the world is at our fingertips. Sure, we’re fugitives. But that’s just one small piece of the story.

We’re the fucking Marshalls. Get used to it.

Author’s Note:

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Prologue: Jackson Leeman

You want to know what my idea of a good time is? A bottle of Jameson, a girl on my lap, and one hell of a winning touchdown pass. I can’t say it any clearer: I don’t give a fuck. You want to know why?

Because I’m the world’s leading man. I’m their darling fucking boy. They scouted me in college and brought me all the way to the pros. Now, I’m the best there is. If you get me the ball, I’ll show you how it’s done. I’ll nail it in. Deep.

But now they’re trying to tell me I need to step up my game. All my agents are saying I need to chill out a little bit. “Start a family,” they tell me. “Invest in your character.”

Fuck that.

I’m not a guy who likes to be told what to do. I follow my gut. That’s what led me to fame and fortune. That’s what led me to win so many Championship games and got me into the pros. So, yeah. I’m not about to settle down anytime soon.

Tonight, all it took was one catch. I ran the ball into the end zone and slammed it in hard.

After the game, I come out of that locker room, soaking wet and ready to party, but the coach has to ruin my fun. “Meet your new PR agent,” he says. And I’m scrambling to figure out how the hell this even happened.

I’m going to fuck this up. There’s no way I can give her everything she needs. I’m just not that kind of guy. But, if she wants, I’ll give her everything she’s ever yearned for. I’ll give her what she wants. I’ll leave her gasping for air, begging me for more.

Fiona Breckinridge

“You’re what?” I nearly scream into the phone, face turning red, feeling my heart race. “You’re transferring me over? Why? What did I do?”

I’ve been working for the same team for the past five years. This is not the news I want to hear right now. “I just bought a house,” I protest, but the bosses don’t seem to give two craps about how I feel.

“Listen,” the head of the PR management firm, Joseph Larkins says to me. “We’re very happy with your work with the company. That’s not the issue.”

“Then what’s the issue, Joseph? Money? Pay me a little less. I don’t care. Do whatever it takes,” I say. “I don’t want to have to start all this over again with a new roster. Not this year at least. Throw me a fucking bone here.”

He takes a long pause and I can just feel what he’s going to tell me next. “I’m sorry, Fiona. It’s not in the cards right now. Maybe next year.”

Click.

I get an email not too long after, describing the details of my new job. I’ll be moving from sunny Los Angeles, to dreary Portland, Oregon. I’ll be managing a team with a brand new player, predicted to be the best in the league, for the Black Wings. This is a team that is notorious for being awful on the field. Great.

I reply back with a simple message. “So, who’s the new player? This better be good.”

I’ve been in the business for a long time. Joseph knows this and so do my colleagues. I don’t fuck around when it comes to my job. If they’re going to put me on the worst team in the league, they better have a good reason. This, no doubt, will make me look bad.

I get another reply. This time it’s with a few links to some positive articles, some pictures, and a name. Jackson Leeman. My heart drops to the center of the Earth.

Jackson Leeman. The boy I went to prom with in high school. The boy who said he was going spend the rest of his life with me.

My jaw drops and my stomach sinks. This is going to be the worst year of my life. I already know it.

“Oh God,” I press my head against the warm keys of my laptop, scrunching in an awkward position. It’s the only thing I can think to do to kill the anguish inside. I click the links and scroll through the articles.

I scan certain phrases and hope to God he’s good. “Wild At Heart… Loose cannon… Party animal almost loses scholarship…” The articles paint a vivid picture. He’s a basket case and apparently he’s gotten much worse since I knew him back in high school. Well, this is the pros. He better be worth the time.

Luckily, his stats are great. There are only a few losses in his ragged history, in fact. But we have history and this is not something I want to deal with right now.

Click, click, click. He’s rough and he’s covered in tattoos. This isn’t a problem in modern day sports. Sometimes it even makes for a better story. Still, it makes the job that much harder. You have to come up with ways to assure the audience he’s a good guy. Well, I can attest. Jackson Leeman is not a good guy. He’s a certifiable jerk and I don’t care how good he looks. It doesn’t excuse how he treats the world around him.

The pictures are worse. He’s either flipping off a police officer or mooning a crowd of fans. Sometimes he’s pouring a bottle of whiskey over his face at a party, or he’s punching out an angry staffer. He’s been arrested at least three times, put on probation once, and he’s settled multiple disputes out of court. He’s a PR nightmare.

A few emails later and they’re trying to sweeten me on the idea. “You’re the only one suitable for this job. He’s a damn good player, but a complete liability. That’s why we chose you to do it. Don’t let us down. We’ll have a private jet come pick you up in the morning. Be ready, 5 AM sharp.”

And that’s it. After that, my life is out of my control. I’m going to be the Public Relations Manager of Jackson Leeman, the baddest bad boy in the world.

Jackson

“That’s right baby,” I moan loudly. “Work it, girl.”

My buddy Landon “Brickwall” Karagon, a guard on the team, is standing off to the side, drinking out of a bottle of champagne. He’s as mean as sin and tougher than nails, and he just won the fucking game of the century. “When’re you going to be done with her, bro? Time’s up,” he says, taking another swig. He sets the bottle in a bucket of ice and sighs.

“Alright,” I laugh, spanking the stripper’s ass. She bounces those juicy cheeks right into my face and I nearly take a bite. “Damn. Just as I was starting to having fun, too.”

“It’s only an extra 500 to stay the whole night,” she reminds me, winking and pressing her tits together. She slides off my lap and waits for Landon to saddle up.

We’re pretty drunk at this point in the day and it’s only fucking noon. I’m actually thinking about spending the extra 500, though I’ve already spent all I need on the sports car and four-story mansion after I got signed. My accountant keeps saying I need to think about my future. I keep telling him he needs to relax a little. I think we all know who’s right in the situation.

I kill off the bottle of champagne as this woman takes off her thong and shoves it into Landon’s face. I laugh and head into the kitchen for some orange juice.

“Damn,” I sigh. I’m feeling that feeling again. It’s the feeling of disappointment. I’ve made it to the fucking pros. I’ve won all those college championship games. The only thing left is the damn Super Bowl, but even that seems like a waste of time. The only reason I’m here right now is my hunger to get to the top, my hunger to be the best there is.

Still, I keep thinking to myself, what happens when I get there? I buy more shit, buy more women and champagne, and celebrate too fucking hard. Then, I break a leg or something stupid and I retire in the Hamptons somewhere and work in team management. It doesn’t sound that great, if I’m being honest with myself. It sounds… boring.

That’s when the doorbell rings. “God damn.” I sigh even louder this time. My shirt is off and I’m freeballin’ it underneath these basketball shorts. My eyes are heavy and red and I’m most likely looking like a total wreck. Still, I answer the door, knowing there’s going to be bad news behind it, and there she is.

She’s standing right in front of me, waiting for an explanation. “Uhh…” I mumble to myself, opening my eyes semi-rapidly. “Shit.”

I clear my throat and turn around. “Turn the damn music off,” I yell back at Landon and Misty, that hot little number gyrating on his lap. “And get the fuck out of here. I have unexpected business to take care of.”

Misty grabs her things in a hurry and runs out. “Asshole,” she whispers.

“Whatever,” I mutter under my breath. When she’s out on lawn, half-naked still, I yell after her. “If I wake up to any extra charges or fees, I’ll never fucking hire you again!”

“Um, can I come in?” she asks. It’s Fiona. The girl from high school. The one girl I mistakenly professed my love to. You know, the one who I was going to settle down with. I feel like I just got punched in the gut. I fall back, almost literally. I have to close my eyes and catch my breath. It’s like a thousand bricks have fallen from the sky and landed directly on top of me.

The guilt weighs on me like nothing else. Back then, before I left her, I was sure I would end up as a janitor somewhere. And then I won all those championship games. And it all clicked in my head. I could be the most famous man in the world.

I left her and never looked back.

“Yeah, sure,” I mutter. “Come in. Uh, I didn’t expect anyone today, sorry about all of this.”

She walks inside, stepping over a broken beer bottle and some underwear. They’re not mine. Maybe they’re Misty’s. Who the hell knows anymore?

She sighs lightly and makes her way to my living room. “I would’ve cleaned up had I known,” I explain. She keeps on ignoring me, something I’ve always disliked about her, but maybe it’s because we’re both too shocked to know how to act. Fuck, I feel like a boy again. This isn’t good.

She’s wearing this short, black shirt and it hugs around her thick thighs perfectly. I’m used to dealing with these skin and bones women and that works just fine. But when I see a woman who knows how to carry her body with confidence and sexiness, it always gets my blood pumping. Especially this woman.

I glance at her tits and though she’s wearing a modest skirt suit, they’re begging to be held by me. Shit, I’m not in the right state of mind for all this. I can’t be trusted.

“I would’ve thought Joseph or your manager would have warned you,” she says. “So, I guess we’ll just get the basics out of the way. I’m Fiona Breckinridge, your new Public Relations manager. Yes, we went to high school. Yes, we dated. It’s not a big deal. We don’t have to let it ruin a good season together.”

She purses her lips and I sigh. This is already too heavy for me. “I—” She cuts me off.

“No need to explain yourself,” she says, quite methodically, like she’s been rehearsing lines for days. “Look, here’s the deal. I just came from Los Angeles. I was used to living on the coast. In fact, I loved it out there so much that I bought a house. However, things don’t always go as planned. The Oregon Black Wings hired you on the team and now they need me to make you look good.”

“I—” Again, she cuts me off, holding her hand in the air and taking a deep breath. Come on, woman. I don’t give a shit.

“Let me finish,” she sighs. “I’m used to professionalism. I’m used to working with the best players in the league. They say that you were good. Well, I need you to prove that to me and the world around us. I’m not going to lose my job just because they assigned me to a loose cannon.” She sits back in a chair, making herself right at home, and waits for me to speak. Landon sits, dazed in the corner of the room. I can already tell he’s bored with this. I am too.

Loose cannon? Who does she think she is? Fucking Obama’s PR agent? “Look, honey,” I smile, looking smug as all hell. “This isn’t your first rodeo. I get it. It ain’t mine either. But you need to get a few things straight before we start working together. First, you’re my PR manager. Not my fucking mother. You do your job and make me look good. That’s it. Second…” I try to think of a second point I want to make, but nothing comes to mind. “Second, just leave me alone.”

“I—” This time, I cut her off.

“I’ve been hailed as the best player in the league right now because it’s the truth. I am the best. I will be the best. I won’t go home without winning. On the off chance that one of my teammates fucks up a play, I will go and train ten thousand times harder than the rest and I’ll come back on the field the next weekend and drive it on home. I’m not finishing my career without a plaque in the hall of fame. Got it?”

“I—”

“Good. Now if you’ll excuse me. I have some important things to take care of,” I say. I glance over at Landon who nods and opens another bottle of champagne. He turns the stereo surround sound on again and I lean back in my $3,000 Italian leather chair. I smile and I know I’ve gotten to her.

Still, I can’t stop staring at the stockings gripping her tight flesh, her creamy legs. The way they disappear underneath the trim of her skirt drives me crazy. So many thoughts come to mind. What I’d do to her, what she’d do to me. I imagine her crawling toward me on her knees, mouth wide open and ready for me.

I have to literally shake myself out of it. After all, she was my high school fling and the only girl I ever thought I loved. As it turns out for some men, you end up falling in love with the game more.

“Fuck this,” she mutters under her breath. She makes sure to cover the opening of her skirt as she picks herself up from the chair, walking modestly to the door. It’s clear she knows what I want, but she’s not going to give it up that easy, if at all.

She turns around, before opening the door at the front of the house. “We’ve established an understanding,” she says. “You’re a douchebag.”

“Great,” I laugh. “It hardly affects me.”

She opens the door and walks out into my yard, leaving the door open. Fuck.

“You know, it actually will affect you if you keep up this act. It’s worked out well enough for you up until now, but I’ve dealt with a lot of players in my lifetime. There’s one thing I’ve discovered. Winning power gets to a man. And if he’s not strong enough, it almost always breaks him. I’m looking forward to you winning these games for your team, but if you fail, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Wow,” I laugh. Fiona’s become one cold bitch. I smile and glance at Landon, who’s doing the same. “I think I like her,” I tell him.

Fiona

I’ve seen a lot in my time, working for the big leagues. It’s nothing new to see a stripper rub her ass on a player’s face. It’s a bit shocking when it’s your ex-boyfriend from back home, however. Still, I can manage to put business first and emotions second. That’s essentially the name of the game, right?

Still, I can’t deal with this prick’s attitude. Of course, when I get back to my rental house, all I can think about is today’s interaction. How the hell was that the same guy I fell in love with? He was so sweet back in Arizona. Sure, he had big hopes and dreams. He wanted to be a great football player and I wanted the same for him. He never acted better than anyone else though. So what changed?

We used to laugh, kiss, and tell each other sweet nothings while we laid in bed together, fairly innocently. I always remembered those times with an odd sort of fondness attached to them. There was even a sort of longing for them at times. I loved the way we used to watch old games and he would tell me his big plans. “Someday, Fiona, we’re going to take over the world. We’re going to go all the way to the pros. And once it’s all said and done, we’ll run away. They’ll look everywhere for us, but we’ll have vanished without a trace.”

It was high school romanticism at its finest and I knew it probably wouldn’t ever happen. Back then, when I was so entranced with him and hoping for the best future outcome for both of us, I accepted it. I really thought we would be together forever.

Now look at me. I’m 28 and living in a rental, somewhere deep in the Portland woods. I have to take orders from my ex, and to drive the nail even further, I have to make him look good. I suppose it could be worse. I suppose I could be homeless or something.

My best friend from high school, Jennifer Hawks, seems to be on my side on this one. Thank God. We decide to catch up and take a walk to the nearest bar, some dive around the corner.

Outside, the air outside is refreshing and beautiful. The sun is setting and the clouds are out, but it’s still so nice. I love the California breeze around this time normally, but Portland will be an easy adjustment. The whole city has transformed since the last time I was here. Now, there’s new shops on every corner, a dozen restaurants opening up every single day, and plenty of happy people. Fine, Joseph, I think to myself. You win.

“I absolutely love living here,” Jennifer says to me. “Seriously, you’re going to end up wanting to stay.”

“Fat chance,” I mutter. “I have to admit, however, I’m really liking the vibe of this place. LA is so… LA.” I laugh.

“Ugh,” she says. “I hate that place. I mean, don’t get me wrong. It’s really fun to visit sometimes, but the whole industry just takes over your life. I swear, I was running from party to party, every single night, just to get one contact for the business. I don’t know why I was so invested in that lifestyle.”

“I get it,” I laugh. “You’re describing me. Truth is, it’s going to take some getting used to not doing that every day. I lived for networking.”

“You’re almost 30,” she looks at me like I’m crazy. “Settle down. Find a real man and just relax. You don’t have much time left.”

Jesus. Is it really that bleak? “I’m not dying, Jen. Come on,” I laugh, shaking my head.

“Just messing with you a bit,” she says as we walk up to the bar. She swings open the door and we both walk in. The delicious smells of hops, old wood, and greasy onion rings instantly sweep into my nostrils and I realize I probably need a drink or two. Or three. Shit, just give me the whole pitcher and a plate of wings and I’ll be fine.

We sit down and order just that. “So, you’ll never guess who I’m assigned to,” I say to her once we’re situated.

“Who? OJ Simpson?” she asks, looking at the TV above my head. There’s a football game on and I turn to glance at it. I can’t help but shake my head.

“No,” I laugh. “It’s worse than that. Trust me.”

On the television, I see him. Jackson Leeman in all his glory, shining on the LED screen, and guess what he’s doing? He’s spitting on a group of fans after a game and screaming at them to ‘fuck off.’ I bury my face in my hands and groan.

“No,” Jen says. “Don’t tell me it’s Jackson.” But the look on my face says it all.

“It’s awful, isn’t it?” I smile.

“Oh God,” she says. “You’re going to have to work overtime on this guy. Fiona, you’re going to have to quit.”

I laugh and our server comes with our pitchers. I eagerly pour myself a glass and take a big sip of orange lager. “I can’t quit,” I say. “Besides, it won’t be that hard, will it?” I’m hoping she can give me some hope because right now because I have very little.

“I’m serious, girl. You need to find another agency who’s not going to fuck you over all of the sudden like this,” she says. “You’ve given how many years to them? A decade? That’s true loyalty, babe. They need to show you some respect. Don’t they know you two have history?”

“Joseph knows everything. Are you kidding me? He does his research on everyone and everything,” I tell her. “But at the end of the day, he doesn’t really care about our feelings. This is a job and I have to do it well still.”

“Oh, God,” she moans, taking a sip of her beer. I pick at a wing and roll my eyes. “Well, welcome to Portland. You’re officially screwed.”

“Yup,” I laugh with my mouthful. “I’m hoping it won’t be that bad. Like, I won’t have to see him all that much. I’m pretty sure he just stays in his mansion all day with his teammates. It’s a bit far off from here.”

I hear the door slam open and my heart races when I see who walks in. A barrage of loudmouthed, laughing football players come hollering through the bar. “Alright, guys. Get the pitchers. I’m fucking ready to destroy something!” It’s him. It’s Jackson and he’s ready to… um… destroy something. His words, not mine.

I turn to Jennifer and widen my eyes. “Are you kidding me?” I mouth at her. Her mouth hangs wide open.

I avoid eye contact as much as I can. There’s no way I want to deal with him right now. Yesterday was enough, dammit. I feel a warm, strong grip around my shoulders, and I know I’m fucked. His hands cup and his fingers press into the knots on my back and shoulders. Suddenly, I feel a wave of relief flow throughout my body.

No. I am not going to enjoy a massage by Jackson Leeman right now. He’s honestly the most annoying man I’ve ever met. “Damn,” he finally says, “you’re tense, baby. What’s wrong?”

“Please stop molesting my shoulders,” I say, closing my eyes and trying my hardest not to freak out on him. He lets go and backs off.

“Come on, I’m not doing anything to hurt you,” he says. “Look, we’re coworkers now, right? We have to do our best to get along. We might as well be friends.”

A player by the name of Boris Holloway throws his arms around Jackson’s neck and screams. “Let’s get fucked up!”

This is honestly what I was afraid of. He’s turning this team into a bunch of hooligans. He’s making it okay to be an idiot in football and sure enough, the team will suffer because of it. When I look into this sea of jock straps, all I see are a bunch of fools looking to impress Jackson. They know he’s the best. They’ve read the headlines. Now, all they want is a chance at the same type of spotlight, so they mimic his behavior.

I grab Jackson and pull him aside. Landon, from across the bar, smiles at me. I purse my lips angrily and look at Jackson directly in the eyes. “Look, I don’t care what you do on your own time. I get your shtick. You’re the guy who doesn’t give two fucks about playing by the rules, yet you come onto the field and take the team to victory. Big deal.”

“You don’t know me at all,” he laughs and takes a sip of my beer, right from my hand. I’m flabbergasted and heavily annoyed.

“Fine, whatever,” I sigh. “But your teammates look up to you. Set a standard, dammit. Or else the whole thing will fall apart.”

“Look, I’m going to be honest with you since you’re being so honest with me,” he says. “Plus, I’m already pretty drunk from pre-gaming.”

“Great,” I mumble out loud.

“You’re hotter than ever. Do you know that?” he says, hand on my shoulder. I back away from him and feel my face turn red. He’s wearing a type of cologne I’ve never smelled before. He smells like whisky too. I can’t help but notice his rumpled button-down shirt. It hangs wide open, exposing tattoos over his ripped abs. Look away, my mind tells me. I do, but it’s awkward and I can tell he saw me.

“Thanks,” I say. “But this is business. We are business partners. That’s it.”

He just continues on his rant, eying me up and down. He stops at my tits. Ugh. “I would love to—” He stops himself and thinks about what he’s about to say for a second. “You just look really fucking sexy in those little suits you always wear. But next time we see each other, I’d like you to wear something more comfortable.”

His hand wraps around my waist and suddenly I feel something I shouldn’t be feeling. It’s the alcohol, I tell myself. And the fact that I haven’t been with a man in over six months. It’s kind of killing me. Still, I take another step back. Jackson is the worst person in the world and I’m stuck picking up the pieces for him. He just wants to use me for his own glory.

“Please, let me get back to my friend,” I tell him. “I’m flattered you keep staring at my tits. Really. But you need to settle down. I’d recommend laying off the whisky for a while.”

“Sure thing, baby.” He winks and kisses my cheek. Instantly, my face flushes with pinkish red and I scramble to regain my composure. He walks away and I can’t believe myself, but there are actually goosebumps creeping up the back of my neck.

What the fuck. I slowly walk back over to Jennifer who has the biggest smile on her face. “Are. You. Kidding me?” she says, nearly falling out of her chair. “Oh my god, you’re definitely going to hook up, aren’t you?”

“Don’t,” I tell her, blushing still. “Just don’t. He’s the most selfish man I’ve ever met. I really don’t like him.”

“Selfish men are always fun to take for a ride,” she winks and makes a kissy face. I playfully slap her hand. She leans over and whispers. “Seriously though, I’d take him for a ride any day of the week. He’d rip my panties off with his big football player hands and grip my ass, and—”

“Jennifer!” I exclaim. “Oh my God!”

“What?” She laughs and shrugs her shoulders. “I’m just saying.”

Yeah, it’s true. He’s a good looking guy. But so what? It’s not like that’s ever made a difference. I see good-looking guys every day. It doesn’t mean I have to fuck him or spend any real quality time with him.

But he keeps glancing over at me and he’s making sure I see him doing it. He’s the kind of guy who has to win at everything. Well, shit. He’s not going to win with me.

Jackson

I can’t help myself. I just love the chase; you know?

When I stare at her in the bar, I see the girl I fell in love with back in high school. Suddenly, something changes inside me. I don’t know what it is and I’m not saying I’m turning into a fucking sap, but something is there. Part of me wants to dive in. Another part of me just wants a taste of her.

I stare at her all night, until I’m drunk enough to stumble into a cab. The whole way home I can’t stop laughing. I don’t know why.

The cab driver looks in his window and narrows his eyes at me. “Hey, aren’t you that football player?”

“So what if I am?” I ask him. This could go either of two ways.

He slams on his breaks. Yep, we’re doing this. He gets out of the cab and opens my door. “Out!” he yells. “Out of my cab!”

Not again. I sigh loudly. “Come on, man. Politics aside, I need to get home. I’ve had a long night.”

“I said, get out!” he yells again, pointing at the empty street. I’m just a few blocks away, so I decide to just bite the bullet and walk home.

“You know what?” I reach into my pocket and pull out a giant wad of cash. I really need to stop carrying my money around like this but I hate paying with cards. I count out two hundred dollars and climb out of the cab. I take the money and throw it at his face. “Keep the fucking change, asshole.”

“You piece of shit!” he screams as I laugh like a jackal. I walk away into the night. “You’re a disgrace to the Black Wings! You’re a disgrace to football!”

“Yeah.” I laugh. “And you’re a disgrace to all cabbies around the world, but at least I still paid your ass.”

I stumble home. I’ve been doing this a lot lately. I stumble through the walkway in my perfect yard and manage to get inside. It’s weird living like this. I didn’t always. I used to live in cheap housing with my buddies back in college. And before that? Well, shit, my dad used to beat the ever living crap out of me when I asked if we had any milk to spare, so it’s a bit obvious why I opted in for the mansion and sports car.

I don’t bear any ill feelings about my past. It’s just something that happened. I can’t change those things, but I can look forward to the future. It’s still weird to walk into a home like this, covered in porcelain, marble, and gold. It still doesn’t click to me. The fact that I’m alone here is also a bit unsettling. The house is just so damn big and empty. There’s even a fucking echo.

I go into my giant bedroom and fall down onto the mattress that’s perfectly designed to contour around my body. I flip on some porno flick because I’m bored and horny, and I can’t stop thinking about women on a 24/7 basis. Or, lately, on particular woman.

Yeah, I’m an asshole. I’ve been told that too many times to count. And now I’ve just adopted what people tell me. Now, I don’t give a fuck.

There’s still that voice in my head, though. It tells me, don’t do it. Don’t end up like your father. It’s a bit of a cliché, I guess. But it’s truer than ever. I don’t want to end up like that bastard. I shrug it off and click through to a scene I want.

It doesn’t satisfy me, so I turn the damn thing off. I don’t get it. I can’t stop thinking about those perfect thighs of Fiona’s. If only I could go back in time, just for one night. Shit, we never did actually fuck back then. It’s a shame.

I close my eyes and think of her in that tight little skirt suit. I think of her going home from a rough day at work. She needs a massage, a bubble bath, because she’s so exhausted. I imagine her filling up that bathtub and bending over the porcelain. She slips out of that skirt of hers, revealing a black garter belt and stockings. She’s so fucking hot, so ready for someone to just come in and catch her at the right moment.

I imagine myself walking in and I’m behind her. She can sense it and for a second, she almost turns around. Something makes her stop, however, and I reach out and touch her round ass. She’s startled, but quickly realizes who it is. I reach underneath her and touch her warm, soaking lips. My cock is as hard as ever and I push it against her. Her lips part and she wraps around me perfectly, swallowing up my head and shaft.

I rip her bra off and kiss her neck. “Fuck me, big boy,” she says, and I feel my blood start to pulse. I need her. I want her so fucking badly. “Cum inside me,” she says.

I pump her full of my hard, rigid flesh. I make her mine. I pull her hair and fuck her in that warm bubble bath. I make sure she cums over and over again because I take pleasure in making her fall for me.

I open my eyes again and I’m in my bedroom. I’m stroking my cock and I’m about to fucking cum. I explode everywhere. It’s a pupil-widening, toe curling, muscle twitching type of orgasm that leaves me flustered and totally satisfied. Except for the fact that I’m alone right now.

I take a hot shower, sober up a little, and head to bed. I’m alone, but it doesn’t mean shit. I don’t need that woman. I don’t need anyone. A few days from now is more important. It’s the big game against Dallas and I have some new tricks I want to try out.

* * *

On the field, it’s another day of learning. This is my trade and I take it seriously. That woman can say whatever she wants about the way I act. I know I’m arrogant. But it’s only because I play like a winner. If I didn’t carry around that attitude, I could lose it all. Okay, I’m a little superstitious, but if it helps me win, I’ll worship the damn stars if I have to.

The QB hikes the ball and suddenly I barrel into the end zone. I turn back and cut, sliding away from a defensive tight end. He’s nothing to me and I can sense his fear. He wants to take me down. He wants to bask in the glory of beating me. Not on my watch. All it takes is one look from me for Loke, the quarterback, to know that it’s time to throw the ball.

It all happens so fast. That spinning missile shoots into the air and all eyes are suddenly on me. It comes barreling into my arms, fitting perfectly, and I smile to myself as my feet come back down to the ground. Of course, three men tackle me directly after, but it’s already too late for them. I’ve scored the damn touchdown.

I’m the best, baby.

The stadium erupts and I point one middle finger in the air. Tons of fans do the same. It’s beginning to become a trademark for me. Fiona is probably holding her breath right now. I put up another middle finger and the crowd cheers louder. In the center of all those cheers is a parade of boo’s, but I don’t give a damn. It’s the nature of the game.

I walk off the center of the field laughing to myself, and sit on the bench off to the side. I squirt some water in my mouth, pull off my helmet, and take a deep breath. “Good job, kid,” my coach Scott Stern tells me.

I nod, smiling. “Thanks, Coach. There’s more where that came from, believe me.”

“Great,” he claps his hands to keep morale high. He eyes the kick off with intensity. “Cut it out with the middle finger shit. It’s stupid. I don’t want it associated with our team.”

“I can’t help myself sometimes,” I awkwardly look away. “I’ll try my best.”

“Good, good,” he tells me, and goes back to watching the game.

The kickoff is good. It flies direct and center and our defense is strong. They tackle the guy within seconds. We’re going to win this game, easy. I never thought any different. Everyone has their predictions, but it’s not even debatable at this point. We’re hailed to go all the way to the Super Bowl. I’ve got a lot resting on my shoulders.

I think about Fiona again. I don’t know why. I just do. I wonder if she saw my touchdown. Normally, I’d be thinking about my ma right now. She’s probably watching it in her new house right now, on her new TV. It wasn’t that long ago when she was stuck in that shit hole of a trailer, having to listen to my plays on the radio. I’ve tried my best to make her proud of me.

It’s not long before I’m called back in the game. A few plays later and Loke, the QB, hikes it back and hands it off to a friend. Landon holds down the front end of the line and I watch as we get another first down. This shit is honestly easier than it looks. All it takes is some confidence and ability, and of course the necessary discipline.

The third play in, Loke drops back and shoots the pigskin directly at me. It’s nearly intercepted. The ball is clipped by one of the other team’s players and luckily it falls into the right place. I run it into the end zone and the crowd loses it again. This time, things are a little less celebratory. This time I feel the clean blow from another player.

I turn around and throw my helmet off. “What the fuck, man? You coming at me?” I ask, stepping forward.

It’s the player who almost intercepted the ball. His pride is hurt. I get it, but he’s not winning this battle. In fact, the game is just about to be finished. It’s a last ditch effort to save face and it’s going to backfire on him.

“Come at me, pussy,” he smiles. Then he does the unthinkable. He spits at my face. Lucky for me, he misses. Unlucky for him, my fist doesn’t. I get a clean hit across his jaw and then both sides of the field go crazy. I swear, every single player jumps into the damn brawl.

“And they’re at it!” A loudspeaker blares. People love this shit. I think it’s why most of them come to the game. They get good and drunk, and then hope to God something exciting happens. Well, I’ve brought their excitement. I’ve given them their entertainment. And I’m whoopin’ some ass.

I jump on top of the guy and smile back. “You see? I’m a nice guy. I don’t spit in other player’s faces.” I laugh, bearing my teeth. He swings up and I feel his knuckles connect against my mouth. I instantly taste the metallic tang of blood in my mouth and I laugh even louder. I punch down again, hitting his cheekbone. My hand hurts but I’m not thinking straight. “I don’t pick fights either.”

“You just provoke people,” he says back. “I’m tired of your shit. We’re all tired of your shit, boy. This is the big leagues. Learn your place.”

I’m pulled off the guy by security and I instantly throw my hands up in the air, as if I didn’t do anything wrong. “I’m good, I’m good,” I tell them. “Just having some fun with the guy.”

He picks himself up, wobbles a little, and falls back on the field. He’s not knocked out or anything, but he’s struggling to keep his balance. “I guess I got what I wanted,” he laughs. I’m wondering, What? A broken face? Sure. “They’ll suspend you a few games for sure. Your whole team is fucked now, boy.”

“Mother fucker,” I growl, pushing out of the security guards’ grasp. I swing another punch and knock him out clean. The whole crowd, I swear to God, cheers louder than when I scored my last touchdown. The security guards tackle me and throw cuffs on me. I flip them off behind my back, as I’m carried off the field.

I can just hear the announcers now. I can imagine what they’re saying. “And Jackson Leeman has been carried off of the field, ladies and gentleman! That’s gotta hurt!”

I just laugh because it’s really all I can do. At this point in the game, I’ve really come to understand that if you just smile and claim that things are okay, they tend to end up okay. Shit, it’s what our politicians do, right? Why can’t I?

It’s all a game, all a show. But I really need to check myself. When I’m brought into the stadium, taken into the locker rooms, the coach screams at me. His face is practically on fire.

“What have I trained you for? Huh?” He even pushes me. I fall to the bench and take it. “You want to waste your career? All that talent is going down the drain and you’re going to take us all down with you. Fuck!”

“Coach, it’ll be okay,” I try and tell him. “It’ll all work out. Trust me.”

“Trust you?” he laughs at those words. “You’re one funny guy, Jackson. I’ve been in this game for 35 fucking years. That’s a lifetime, asshole. I’ve seen players just like you. Maybe they didn’t get as many headlines, or as much media attention, but they were good ball players. And guess what? They threw it all away. One of them fucking works for Best Buy. He does their commercials and gets paid 300 dollars for a shoot. I look at you like I looked at them. Don’t fuck this up for yourself.”

“You mean, don’t fuck this up for you,” I spout back. I shouldn’t talk back. I should just listen, but my arrogance sometimes gets the best of me and I don’t know why. It’s like a nervous tick or something.

“Don’t fuck this up for all of us,” he says, turning a bit calmer. “Seriously, I’ll have you out of the games so fast you won’t know what hit you.”

“Yes, sir,” I finally say. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“Good,” he sighs and sits down next to me. He throws his arm around my shoulders and leans in. “Now, look. Here’s the fun part. They’re going to suspend you for a game. I’ve already got the word to let you know.”

“What the fuck!” I yell, even though it was obvious it would happen. “The guy pushed me! You saw it with your own eyes.”

“Yeah, well, they’re going to give it to him too. Just because another guy touches you a little hard, doesn’t mean you have to punch back. After all, this is football. Keep your temper on check,” he says. “But it’s just one game and it’s against Arizona.”

“Come on, Scott,” I protest. “That’s my fucking hometown. I have to play that one.”

“It’s not up to me, son,” he says. “It’s up to the league. So keep your mouth shut, behave a little, and you’ll get to play the next game. And then it’s on to the Super Bowl.”

“You think we’ll get there?” I ask him, feeling defeated, but okay.

“I know we’ll get there if you don’t fuck it up,” he laughs. “Just keep yourself in control. Don’t go crazy. Don’t let your mind race. In fact, stay inside that house of yours and train every single day. It’s not like you need to leave that place anyway. No distractions.”

No distractions? Fine, I’ll stay inside. But there’s no guarantee I won’t get distracted. “Have you met my new PR girl?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.

“Don’t you dare,” he says. “Keep your hands to yourself. Don’t piss me off, now.”

“I’m just kidding, Coach,” I smile. But I’m not fucking playing around anymore. I’m here to cause a ruckus. I’m aching for some kind of action. “I would never do such a thing.”

Fiona

Oh, God. No. Please don’t. He did it. He really did it. He took a swing at that guy. Jesus H. Christ.

I can barely watch the game. Jennifer is over at my house and her eyes are completely open. She’s got a big smile on her face and I swear I’m going to slap her. “Do not laugh right now,” I say. “Or I’ll kill you.”

“I’m sorry.” She starts laughing. “But this is insanely entertaining. Seriously, I told you yesterday. You need to just quit. I’ll get you a job in the entertainment business.”

“Stop,” I groan. “Why is he doing this to me?” He just keeps slamming his fist down on the guy. He breaks out of security’s grasp and goes for more. He even flips off the cameras from behind his back. This is great. Just great.

“He’s not doing this to you,” Jennifer says. “He’s doing this because it’s who he is. He loves the attention. And, shit, I love it, so it must be working.”

“Yeah, well, the league is not going to love it. And I’m going to have them, the networks, and Joseph on my ass all fucking day about it.” I glance at my phone, which has started vibrating uncontrollably. Joseph and a whole host of other executive types are blasting my phone. I don’t even answer. “I just can’t deal with this right now.”

“Well, I think he’s hot,” Jennifer smiles and winks at me.

“Don’t,” I tell her. “I can’t deal with your shit either.”

“I’m serious!” she laughs. “He’s a totally rough and tumble type of guy. I bet he eats pussy real good.”

“Ew, just stop!” I laugh. “Enough with the sex shit.”

“Why are you such prude?” she asks.

“I am not a prude,” I tell her. “I just don’t want to hear about how sexy my insane client is right now. He’s not sexy. He’s an asshole.”

“Assholes are totally sexy and I want to sit all over his face,” she says. “Seriously, I know he can ride a gal to the moon and back.”

To the moon and back? Who is this woman? The images that flash in my head are something else. She’s right sometimes, but this is my ex we’re talking about. This is my high school sweetheart, turned worst piece-of-shit.

“You do realize I was supposed to marry this guy, right?” I ask her, creasing my eyes.

“Yeah,” she laughs. “And live happily ever after, right? Come on, babe. You were like 17 when all of that happened. It was more than a decade ago. Now look at you. You’re doing great.”

“Right. Great.” I shake my head. “I have to make this idiot look like a changed man by the Super Bowl. This should be interesting.”

“Sounds fun,” she shrugs. “Anyway, I have more important things to do right now than talk about this all day.”

“Like what? I thought you weren’t working today,” I say.

“Yeah, exactly,” she smiles, pushing her butt out. “I’ve got a date with a very nice man. He’s a producer. He just did all of those Manic Prowler movies. You know, the really gory slasher type films.”

“Um, be careful,” I laugh. “I don’t want to wake up to you on the news.”

“If I don’t text you tomorrow, just assume I’m dead,” she says.

Jennifer gets off of the couch and gives me a hug. When she’s gone, I’m all alone in my house, in this foresty place I now find myself living in. I immediately call Joseph.

“Fix this,” he says without giving me any time to say anything in my defense. “Fix it now.”

“Joseph, I told you. I told you I didn’t want any part in this shit,” I tell him. “Jackson is going to ruin his career. It’s a fact. I’ve seen players do this before and it never works out well.”

“Jackson just needs a little guidance. The coach is on him for that,” he reassures me. “What he really needs is a good public relations person to make him look good.”

“I’ll do my best. I’ll call the Sports Network and have him go on. He’ll do an interview and he’ll get a chance to explain himself. I’ll coach him on what to say. That’s about all I can do right now. Is he suspended? I assume he is.” I sigh loudly and close my eyes. This is too much work, dammit.

“Good,” he says. “And yeah, he’s suspended for a game, but that’s it. He still has time to redeem himself in the public eye. I want you to dig deeper after this, Fiona. I want you to find some information about his past. He grew up poor in Arizona, right? You both went to the same school. Have him open up to you about it and we can run a big spread in Time. Anyway, I have to go. Talk to you soon.”

He hangs up the phone and I have no chance to argue. Dig deep. I don’t need to. We were in love. I know a lot already. I know his mom used to live in the trailer park a few miles away from the school. I know he used to have to beg for rides to classes. I know that he was lucky as hell to have football and that his dad beat him almost every damn day.

It’s stuff we shouldn’t bring to light. It’s stuff we, in the media, shouldn’t obsess over, just because it brings us good ratings. But this is my job and this is what the world wants out of stars. They want to own as many pieces of them as they can, to chew them up and spit them out.

Shit, what do I care? Jackson is an asshole, even more so than the consumers waiting to take a bite out of him. I shouldn’t care. I don’t care. I have to keep telling myself that. I don’t care.

I get on my laptop, contact all the relevant people at the Sports Network, and check my phone when I’m finished. Shit. At least four hours have passed. What the hell have I been doing all this time? That’s when I hear the knock coming from my door.

Idiotically, I don’t check who it is, and I just open the door. My stomach turns when I see Jackson standing right in front of me, complete with that cocky smile of his. “Miss me?” he asks. I slam the door in his face.

He knocks again and I’m forced to open the door if I don’t want my door falling off its hinges. “What do you want, Jackson?” I ask him. He’s still smiling.

“Well, aren’t you going to invite me in to your new place?” he asks, walking in on his own accord. “It’s lovely, really. You’re doing so well, despite the circumstances.”

I close the door and groan. “I wish I could say the same for you, Jackson,” I say. “Instead, you’re fucking everything up for me. One week in and I have to deal with your shit.”

“Did you watch the game? If you did, you’d know that was a cheap shot. I had to swing back. It was practically self-defense,” he says, opening my fridge. He closes it when he sees that there’s no beer in it.

“Practically. Right,” I scoff. “What do you want? Seriously, I have things to do.”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “I thought we could hang out. It’ll be like old times.”

Is he really going to bring those days up? He should know how hurt I was then. “I’d rather not,” I say, feeling my heart rate quicken to an incredible pace. “In case you don’t remember, you broke my heart.”

“I know I did,” he says, turning serious for a second. “And I never got a chance to apologize, so I’m doing it right now. I’m sorry. There. I said it.”

“Great, can you leave now?” I ask. I’m serious too. I don’t know what he’s doing in my house.

He sits down on my couch and spreads his arms across the back end. “Alright, let me be serious for a second,” he says.

“I would love that actually,” I tell him.

“We need to fix what happened today,” he says. “I’m sorry for that too. I shouldn’t’ve done it. Now I have to sit out the whole fucking Arizona game. That’s our home state, Fi. My mom was going to go to that game.”

“Yeah, well.” I sigh. “You dug your own grave, Jackson. I’m not your nanny. I can’t just fix every wrong you do.”

“Fine. I’m not even asking you to do that,” he says, though that’s exactly what he’s asking me to do. “But, just this one time, please. Help me with this. I want to go to the Super Bowl. I want to make my ma proud of me.”

For the first time, Jackson is owning up to his bullshit. It’s like looking at someone for the first time. “You’re going on Sports Network. You’re going to do an interview and you’re going to explain yourself. I’ll tell you everything you need to say. If you listen to me, everything will be just fine. Luckily, sports fans have seen asshole players before. But the people who live for the game, don’t live for the theatrics. So cut that shit out.”

“Got it.” He sighs and stands up. “Look, I’m thirsty. I could use a beer or a few shots. You game?”

I’m hesitant. A drink might be nice right about now, but I don’t want to get involved with a guy like Jackson ever again. I want to keep my distance as much as possible, on the off chance he ever wants to mess up my life again. He sees my hesitation. “Come on. I know you want to. It’ll be fine. I won’t be a dick, or whatever you think I am normally.”

“You are a dick,” I say. “But a drink sounds fantastic right about now. I’m so stressed with work stuff. I probably do need a break.”

“That’s what I’m talking about.” He puts his hand up for a high five. When I don’t give him one, he smacks my butt firmly. “It’s a date.”

“It’s not a date,” I tell him, as firmly as his butt slap. My face is bright red with embarrassment. “And don’t ever touch my ass again. Seriously.” I can already tell this is doomed. My career is beyond fucked if he keeps screwing up. I like his new “goody-goody” attitude, but can it really last? I’m sure I’ll have that answer soon enough.

Jackson

Yeah, I must be insane. I must be out of my God damn mind. It’s either that or I’m such a narcissist that I can’t control myself around any woman who gives me so much as a smile. I can’t help myself. I just love all the attention.

So yeah, I smacked her ass. Big deal. It’s not like she didn’t want it. When she scowls at me, I can practically taste the anticipation coming from her. It’s that palpable history we have. It’s the way she looks at me with understanding. She doesn’t have to figure me out. She already knows what I am, that I don’t give two fucks about anything. Sometimes, you just know what a woman is thinking, and I definitely know she’s picturing me doing awful things to her.

I open the door of my Maserati and watch her bend over to get in. Fuck, I want to do terrible, unspeakable things to her. I want to revert to a primal state, drop to my knees, and eat her from the door of this sports car. I smile to myself and chuckle a little, knowing she has no idea what kind of thoughts I have inside this filthy brain of mine. I keep them locked away in there, knowing it’s just fun and games.

I get in and turn the car on. I shift the gears, driving full throttle to the nicest bar I know, The Lantern. We zip through the sunny streets, speeding by at least twenty Subarus on the way.

“Be careful!” she screams. I cut another corner and feel the car lift by an inch and she screams even louder. “Dammit, Jackson! Stop, you bastard!”

“Just hold on, baby!” I yell. “We’ll get there in less than 30 seconds!”

We get there in one piece, but she’s freaking out. When I stop the car, her hair is all over the place and her breathing is rapid. “What? What’s the matter?” I smile.

“Fuck you, Jackson,” she huffs. “I hate your guts.”

“Aw, come on,” I laugh. “No need to get mad at me. We’ve got business to discuss. That’s your favorite thing to do, right?”

She just growls at me and gets out of the car in a hurry. The Lantern is high class and I brought her here for a reason. She may be well off in a high-paying job, but she’s not quite as privileged as me. She doesn’t go to these types of spots. If there’s one thing I love, it’s showing off my money to women.

The host standing in the front of the restaurant and bar looks her up and down. “No,” he says. She’s wearing a simple outfit, jeans and a tight, white t-shirt. It’s not exactly up to the dress code standards. I watch as she fights the guy, which I love.

“What the fuck?” she says, confused. “No? This is a bar, right? Let me in.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but no,” the guy says. I laugh a little, standing back against the wall.

“Listen, you prick. Let me in,” she says with a fierce attitude that fills me with some odd sort of excitement. I crease my eyes, watching her. She’s a woman who will fight to get what she wants. It’s admirable and pretty fucking sexy. Man, I need to stop saying those things about Fiona. She’s a childhood friend. That’s it. I have to remember that.

“Ma’am, I’m calling security,” he says. He motions over to two big guard-looking guys. They’re not that big, to be honest. I mean, I’ve dealt with scarier dudes on the field.

They walk up to Fiona and one of them grabs her arm. “Hey,” I call out, ready to end this charade. “Get your hands off her, pussy.” I say the words with a giant smile plastered on my face.

“Sir, back up or we’ll have to use force on you,” he says to me. I toss my ID at the host and watch as his jaw drops.

“Oh no, no, no, no,” he mumbles to himself, starting to stutter. “Get your hands off her! Now!” the guy screams.

“What?” the bouncer says.

The guy hisses at the bouncers. “This is Jackson Leeman, from the Black Wings, and his girlfriend!” The guy backs off completely, throwing his hands in the air.

“I had no idea, sir,” he says. “I apologize.” I half expect him to fall to his knees and start kissing my ring.

“Don’t worry about it,” I tell him. “But if it happens again, I’ll make sure you never get work in this town again.” No idea how I’ll do that, but it seems like a scary enough thing to say.

“I am not his girlfriend,” Fiona says.

“Honey, it’s alright,” I smile. “Our anonymity is safe here.” I turn to the host with a whisper. “It’s our anniversary.”

“Oh, well, a table just opened up!” he exclaims, leading us to a table. “Right this way. And happy anniversary, you two!”

“Again, I’m incredibly sorry,” the security guard says with a look of shame across his face. The whole thing is hilarious.

Fiona whispers at me as the host leads us to our table. “Can you please just chill out for once in your life? It’s getting really old.”

“Come on,” I whisper back. “I’m just having some fun.”

We order two Mojitos followed by some shit I can’t really pronounce and we’re gifted three free drinks on the house. It’s funny, when you’re this rich, you expect to pay extra for nice things. Instead, they just give you everything for free. Take that sports car, for example. I got that in a sponsorship. All I had to do was stand next to one, take a couple of photos and hold a football in my hand. A few hours for a free car. The whole industry is just insane.

In the darkened light of the restaurant, Fiona gives me a stubborn look. Still, I’m staring at her tits, practically spread on the table for me. “So,” I say. “What am I going to say in this interview? What points do you want me to drive home?”

“You need to play up your good sides,” she says. “The nice guy in you.”

“Oh, God.” I sigh. “Nice guy? Me? I think you’ve got the wrong person.”

“I know I do. But you’re a football player. You know how to act a little, right? You need to tell the world that things have been hard for you lately. Adjusting into the pro lifestyle has been difficult. You’ve gotten caught up in things, but you’re ready to take your life in another direction.”

“Sounds… boring,” I say, yawning.

“That’s because it is,” she says. “But you have to do it and you have to prove to the world that you’re ready to change.”

“How can I do that?” I ask, still staring at her cleavage. Her nipples, I swear, are poking through the fabric. She’s not even wearing a bra. “Why didn’t you wear that dress I told you to wear the other day? You’d look so good in a nice, short dress.”

She ignores that last bit. “First, you’re going to sell that sports car.”

I think I feel my heart stop for a second. I feel sick to my stomach. “What?” I ask her, not registering what she just said to me.

“You need to sell the Maserati, Jackson,” she repeats, annoyed by my response.

“You’re kidding me, right? You have to be joking?” I laugh. But she doesn’t laugh back, nor does she smile. “No. I won’t do it. I can’t do it!”

“Seriously? You’re acting like a baby. You can buy a new one later. Did you even pay for it?” she asks.

“That’s not the point. It’s my personal item. I deserve it. I earned it, dammit,” I protest.

“You have two more cars you can use. I think you’ll be fine,” she exhales sharply. “Look, do you want my help or not? I thought you wanted to make your mom proud of you.”

I run my hands through my hair and sigh. “Fine,” I say, looking up at the ceiling. “I’ll do it. If that’s what it takes, I’ll fucking do it.”

“Look, I’ve seen suspensions get overturned for things like this,” she leans forward, pushing her tits against the table even more. I’m not drooling, I swear. Okay, I kind of am. “If the league thinks you’re turning over a new leaf, they could let you play the Arizona game. Isn’t that something you want?”

What I want is to dive into her chest. I cough and shake the thought away. “I doubt that’ll happen,” I laugh. “That’s a rare occurrence and the league executives hate my guts.”

“They don’t hate you, Jackson. You have the best stats in the league right now. You show the most promise out of any other player,” she says. “Just don’t fuck this up. They want to see you flourish.”

“No.” I laugh with a slight tinge of anger. “They want to see me play by the rules. They want to use me however they see fit. They don’t give a damn about me and I don’t give a damn about them. I’m not someone who plays by the rules. That’s why I’m here in the first place.”

“You’re here because you play ball well, plain and simple,” she says. “And you signed up for this. It’s not like you’re being made to play the game. You knew there were rules when you came into this.”

“Yeah, well—” She cuts me off and I fall back into my chair.

“Just do this for me. It’ll be an easy ten minutes of your time and it could save your ass. Plus, you’ll make me a very happy woman,” she says.

I smile. “I know what else would make you happy, baby.”

She gets up from her chair and slams a ten-dollar bill on the table. “Look, you asked for my help and now you’re just being a dick again. You just can’t help yourself, can you? Well, I’m leaving. I don’t care if you go on air or not. It’s up to you. If you do, let me know how it goes,” she says, walking away. She quickly turns around and grabs the ten-dollar bill from the table. “You can afford to pay this, right?”

And just like that, she walks out.

“Damn,” I say to myself. “She’s a catch.”

Fiona

I wake up the next morning to a slew of drunken texts from Jackson. They read as follows:

I don’t want to have to sell my soul for the game.

I’d do anything to win. Anything except spout a bunch of lies about how I’m reformed and good.

I’m no good. That’s just who I am. Why can’t football fans just except it?

Alright, fine. Ignore me. But that doesn’t change anything. My stance is firm.

I give up. I want to play. I’ll do it.

I have to laugh when I see the series. It’s like listening to a convict talk to his lawyer about going with the plea deal. Only, this is definitely the easiest move in the world for a sports player. All he has to do is say the right words, comb his hair right, and smile. How difficult is that really?

I take a shower and get ready. Luckily, I never said anything to the show producers about cancelling. It’s been a long time since I’ve been around Jackson so much, but he’s essentially the same person. Stubborn as a mule, hard as a bull. He’s a bastard alright, but he tends to come through in the end.

I drive over to his house and half expect him to open his door naked with a stripper dangling from his arm, but he doesn’t. He’s dressed in a light grey suit with his hair slicked to the side. He looks proper and youthful. “Wow,” I smile. “You came through. I’m very surprised.”

“Yeah, well, I want to play this game,” he says, stepping outside. “More than anything.”

“Good. Let’s go. They’re waiting for you,” I tell him, walking back to my car. We hop in and I turn to him before leaving. “And the car?”

“What car?” he asks, looking wistfully off to the side.

“That means you sold it, right?” I eye him carefully to see if he’s lying.

“Yeah, dammit. I sold it.” He sighs. “You don’t have to rub it in my face.”

“Sorry.” I pat his thigh and he rolls his eyes. “You can get another one later, don’t worry so much.”

When we get to the station, they’re in a crunch to start. We run through the questions. “Lucky for you,” I whisper as they set up the cameras around us. “You have me to guarantee you a set of questions.”

“I could have freestyled it,” he winks.

“Hell no,” I laugh. “I don’t play that way. Here are the questions. Go over the talking points in your head. You’re done fighting, done drinking, and you’re over the eye catching headlines. All you want to do is to play ball—”

“I do,” he interrupts me.

“Fine, but keep listening,” I say, slapping his arm. He looks down at me with shock. “That’s right. All you want to do is to play ball for you mother. You want to make her proud. You don’t need to go into specifics about her situation.”

He looks down, almost regretfully, but it passes within a few seconds. “And I sold the most beautiful, pussy-getting car in the world,” he says. Yep, any sadness he showed about his mother goes right out the window.

“Alright, guys! We’re live in 30 seconds. You ready?” a cameraman shouts. Jackson nods and takes a deep breath.

“You’ll do great,” I whisper. “Stick to the answers!”

It’s not long before the cameras roll and the lights shine brightly. The host smiles through televisions across the world and I’m holding my damn breath. You better do this for me, Jackson. You better do this for yourself, I think to myself.

“We’ve got a very special day planned for all you football fans today,” the host cheerfully says into the camera. “Jackson Leeman, wide receiver and possible player of the century, stands before us today for an exclusive interview. Jackson, thanks for joining us. How are you doing since that last game?”

There’s a brief pause as the host sits there with a false smile on his face. I know the guy. His name is Steven Cornish. He used to play in New England before he messed up his leg forever. I’ve heard he’s been hard to work with ever since he left the sport to do television.

“I’m doing, good, Steve. Overall, last game was a giant success for our team. We’ve still only lost two games in the whole season and, correct me if I’m wrong, I think that’s a new record for the Black Wings,” Jackson says. So far so good.

“It is, indeed and congratulations on all your success,” Steve says. “However, we can’t forget the closing chaos that ensued that evening. It was something that doesn’t happen too often during games, an all-out brawl. The videos instantly went viral. Can you talk about that? Do you have any regrets?” On the TV screens around us, there is cell phone footage of the fight.

Jackson looks down for a second and then pivots back at the camera. His eyes are misty and it evokes a certain amount of emotion. He chokes up for a second and exhales heavily. It’s perfect.

“I regret it all,” he chokes up.

“But it was sort of a cheap shot, was it not? I mean, according to what I saw, the player knocked you from behind,” Steve says. I’m getting angry at him for pressing the issue. He said he regrets it. Stick to that, dammit. “Do you feel you were within your rights to hit him back?”

He takes a second to think about the question and I can feel my heart rocking my chest. “No,” he finally says, “I don’t. Violence is never the answer. Just because someone shoves me on the field, doesn’t mean I need to go crazy on the guy. I messed up during that game. I’m truly sorry.”

“That’s noble of you, Jackson. For a lot of true sports fans and lovers of the game, I’m sure they really appreciate that. It’s not about the theatrics, is it?” he asks. I swear, I’m going to sock this guy now. He needs to stop pressing him. My heart is going wild still.

“It’s not, Steve,” Jackson says.

“You just said something important. You used the word crazy,” Steve says. Fuck. I’m praying he doesn’t go there, but I already know he’s going to. I hold my breath and look away. “Isn’t going crazy your thing?”

“I’m sorry?” Jackson asks. “I’m not sure what you’re implying.” Oh shit. No. Come on, Jackson. Don’t do it. Don’t get angry.

“Let me put it this way,” he says. “You’re sort of a loose cannon, right? I mean, with all the flipping off the fans, the fighting, and the drinking. You’d think it was sort of your thing.”

Jackson takes a deep breath and looks at me, as if to say, ‘I swear to God, I’m going to destroy this guy.’ But, remarkably, he doesn’t. He takes a few more deep breaths and a tear rolls down from his eye. Yes, a fucking tear clings to his cheek. I’m so happy I could kiss him right now.

I immediately get a text from Joseph. Thank God, it reads. I smile and nod at Jackson, motioning for him to continue.

“I, uh.” He clears his throat. “I don’t want to be that kind of guy anymore. I love the game, you know? I live for it. And for some reason, I thought I had to keep up this image of being a badass or something. Because, growing up, I didn’t have much of a father figure to look up to, you know? So I took to drinking and I took to fighting, and I bought insane cars and lived a fast life. This fight was a huge mistake, but I’m glad it happened. Not because of the hurt I caused, but because it made me grow.”

“How did it make you grow?” Steve asks in a calm and caring voice. “I want to hear more about that. I think your fans want to as well, Jackson.”

“Well, I went home and immediately sold my sports car. I’m actually selling a lot of my things right now. I don’t need them. They don’t make me any more of a man. I’ve cut down on the alcohol too,” he says. “And I’ve just really devoted myself to training and focusing on the game itself. That’s what I really care about.”

Steve smiles and nods, understanding. “Do you think they’ll suspend you during the Arizona game? I know you grew up there. It would be a sight to watch you step onto that field,” he says.

Jackson shrugs his shoulders and exhales sharply. “Man, I don’t really know. I would imagine they’re not too happy with me right now,” he says. “I would love to play in my home state. My mother still lives there, you know? She watches every game. She used to take me to all my practices. I think she’s probably watching this interview right now. I’d like to make her proud of me. I’d like to play and win that game, but if they need to suspend me for my actions, I’ll understand one hundred percent.”

“Well, alright,” Steve smiles. “Jackson Leeman, everyone. Football’s biggest star. Thank you for coming onto the show.”

“It’s been a true honor and pleasure,” Jackson says, shaking Steve’s hands. The lights dim and the cameras pull back.

“That’s a wrap!” a crew member yells.

“Nice job,” Steve says. “That was a good fucking interview. You nailed it. The whole crying thing… shit, man. You’re good.”

Jackson shrugs. “You do what you have to do.”

I grab him before he says anything else further, and I pull him into the green room and lock the door. “You did it, I can’t believe you did it. Holy shit, you almost gave me a heart attack.”

“What?” He laughs. “You didn’t think I had it in me, did you?”

“Hell no, I didn’t.” I rest my hand against his chest and suddenly feel his ripped muscles. I have to take a step back and analyze things for a second. I try to pretend it didn’t happen. He just smiles and looks at me confused.

“I’m good,” he says. “At everything I do.” The energy in the room is palpable. My face goes bright red and I turn away.

“So what’s next?” he asks. “Think I’ll get to play?”

I take a deep breath and turn back around. “I don’t know,’ I say. “The networks will press the league to let you stay in. They technically shouldn’t let you play, but the ratings will skyrocket if you do. My guess is they will, but they’ll hold you accountable. You’ll have to sign a contract specifying that you’ll act like a good boy.”

He laughs. “I am a good boy.”

I roll my eyes at him. “Well, you definitely nailed it today. My boss is very happy with me,” I say.

And then something weird happens. He leans forward until I feel his hot breath tickle the hairs at my temple when he speaks. “I couldn’t have done it without you.” There’s a few seconds of pause between us and then I just do it. I kiss him.

His lips mesh with mine and suddenly his tongue slides against mine. I feel an excitement surge throughout my body, but it’s tinged with a guilty feeling of NO! I push back, feeling my heart race and I look at him wide-eyed.

“Um.” I gulp down, unable to look him in the eyes. “I have to go.”

I quickly walk out of the room and head to my car. I cannot believe that just happened. Jackson Leeman? No, just no! I can’t do this.

But then why did I just get a rush from that? And why the fuck am I wet? I speed home, nearly running every single red light. This is not good. This is horribly wrong.

Jackson

Well, that was unexpected. I never thought she would kiss me out of nowhere like that. I mean, I knew she probably still had the hots for me, but the timing was a bit unexpected. I’m not thrilled with having to call a driver to come pick me up from the station. The whole thing is completely unprofessional.

When I get home, I call up Landon. “Yo, come over,” I tell him. “I want to get fucked up.”

“I thought you were over that shit. I just saw you cry on live television,” he laughs. “God, you’re a pussy. You know that, right?”

“The things I do for fame, right?” I laugh back. There’s no way I’m going to let my teammates rag on me for doing what I needed to do.

“Alright, I’m heading in that direction with a bottle of Jameson. I want to watch as you down a glass,” he hangs up the phone.

When he gets here, I’m ready to rage. All that estrogen-based apology stuff has gotten to me. I’m a fucking ball player, for Christ’s sake. I hit people for a living. I don’t get why everyone’s so sensitive nowadays. Shit, they should be making action figures of me that punch.

I grab the bottle of Jameson right from his hands, run out back, and jump into the pool. I might be the only guy in the area with one of these and I love it. I scream with glory, a huge smile plastered on my face. Landon does a flip off the diving board, landing right on his back. We both laugh, gasping for air.

“I think they’ll let you play, man,” Landon says. “That whole show you put on earlier was gold. A-plus, really.”

“Yeah, I honestly didn’t think I’d be able to do it,” I tell him. “But I need to play that game. I want to destroy Arizona. Shit, I’d be playing against some of my old college buddies. Gotta show them who’s boss, you know?”

Landon nods and grabs the bottle from me. “Hey, I’ve got an idea,” he says. “Let’s invite Misty and her friends over. You know, to celebrate. You down?”

I look away for a second, thinking. “Nah, man,” I tell him, getting out of the pool and laying on the hot cement. “I don’t know if I’m feeling up to that right now.”

“Come on, bro,” he says. “You’re not feeling that? What the hell kind of an excuse is that? I’m always feeling Misty. Even in my dreams, I’m feeling her.” He laughs and makes a kissing motion in the air. Normally, it would be funny to me, but for some reason, now it’s not making me laugh.

“Oh God,” he suddenly says. “Don’t tell me what I think you’re about to tell me.”

“What?” I ask him. “I’m not telling you shit. I’m just not in the mood. It’s been a long day.”

“You’re not speaking the words, but I read you loud and clear,” he says. “You’ve got a thing for that PR bitch, don’t you?”

“Man, first off, don’t call her a bitch. She’s a respectable woman,” I shake my head, suddenly regretting inviting him over. “Second, I don’t have a thing for her. At all. We used to date, so I’ve sort of done that shit already if you see what I’m getting at.”

“I don’t,” he says, getting out of the pool and walking toward my bench press. He dries his hands and sits underneath it. “Come on. Spot me.”

“Fine,” I sigh, getting up and taking another swig. He lifts the weights up and does about 16 presses. I help him put it back on the bar.

“She did kiss me though,” I admit. “It was weird. Like, it came out of nowhere.”

“I fucking knew it!” he yells, clapping his hands and jumping up. “What’d you do? Did you bang it out? Please tell me you’re not going soft on me. You can’t date this woman. You’re too young to settle down.”

“I’m 28, man. I’m not that young anymore,” I laugh. “But, no. I’m not going soft. I just don’t feel like throwing all my money at a stripper right now. Plus, Misty’s been boring me lately. Same old tricks, you know?”

“Yeah, I guess,” he shrugs. “She’s kind of the best there is.”

“Whatever that means,” I laugh. “Nah, man. It’s weird though.”

“What is?” he asks.

“I don’t know.” I sigh, looking away. I shouldn’t be talking about this shit with Landon. He’s too aggressive. He doesn’t understand these things. I doubt he’s ever had a serious girlfriend ever in his life. He doesn’t understand what having history with someone is like. “We were going to get married and shit.”

“What?” he asks, shocked. “What do you mean? Like, today?”

“No, not today, you idiot.” I shake my head. “Like back before I played college ball. We were together for a really long time. We have an extensive history.”

“So, you fucked a lot when you were younger and now you’re wanting to do it all over again,” he says. “Big deal. Fuck her and move on.”

“No, it’s not like that. Come on, man, I’m trying to have a one-on-one conversation with you, as a brother,” I tell him. “We never got that far back then. Her parents were always around us.”

“What? You never fucked her?” he asks. “Jesus, dude. I swear, you’re changing by the second. Who cares then?”

“Never mind,” I tell him, laying down and grabbing the bar above me. I lift the weights up and bring them down, against my chest until I feel the sharp burn of exertion. I put it back on the rack and jump back up. “Go ahead. Call Misty if you want. I’ll be out here, practicing for the game.”

He just groans loudly and walks inside the house. “No thanks, man. I think I’ll just head home. I’ll see you at practice,” he says, opening the front door. “Let’s hope you still kill it at the game. ‘Cause if you don’t, you’re going to let a lot of us down. I may be your teammate, but I look up to you. You never gave a fuck before. I don’t understand what’s happened.”

“See ya later,” I tell him, lifting the weights above my chest again. I do another set and scream loudly as he shuts the door. “Bastard.”

Look up to me? Him? He doesn’t even understand me. He’s some rich boy who grew up in the suburbs. As for me, I grew up in a fucking trailer park. My dad clocked me every time I asked him a simple question. And the only solace I ever felt was in the game, and when I was with Fiona. I made a choice years ago and it was a mistake.

I don’t know. I’m feeling confused right about now. When she kissed me earlier it just clicked. It felt right. It felt like time hadn’t even passed. Now, I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s fucking crazy.

I grab my phone and see her text. She says: Sorry for earlier. It was a huge mistake. I’m so disgusted with myself right now.

Disgusted? Well, she didn’t have to use such harsh language. I reply back. It’s fine. No harm done.

Minutes pass and there’s no text back. I stupidly grab my phone and type out Dinner tomorrow? but I instantly delete it.

“Fuck it,” I say out loud.

An hour later, I get a call from my manager, Sheldon. He tells me I’m good to go on the Arizona game. Great. But now my heart’s all fucked up. Shit, maybe I am going soft.

Fiona

Oh, lord. I can’t stop pacing around my house. I’m eternally in mental and emotional anguish after doing the unthinkable. How could I? Why did I? Ugh, I’m such an idiot!

Okay, so I kissed the guy. It’s not like we’re going to get married or something. We have a professional relationship and I sort of overstepped it a little. He seemed like he was fine. He didn’t seem angry or that he cared. Or that… Ugh!

The fact that he didn’t react makes it even worse. I keep overthinking things. Did he want me to kiss him? Was he into it? Was he disgusted by it? I shouldn’t have texted him saying I was so grossed out by my actions, but I keep feeling like I have to justify myself, over and over again.

Jennifer comes over with a care package. A bottle of Rosé, chocolates, and strawberries. “Thank God!” I exclaim, wrapping my arms around her.

“Girl, you’re freaking out right now!” she laughs. “Take a deep breath. Everything is going to be alright. Explain everything to me.”

“I kissed him, Jen. Oh God, I kissed him!” I exclaim, feeling the shame creep up on me. I fall back onto my couch and cover my eyes. “I don’t know what’s worse. The fact that I kissed him or the fact that I ran out of the room.”

“You’re a hot mess right now, you know that?” she asks. “So you kissed the guy. Big deal. He’s totally hot and you definitely want it. I know I do.”

“I don’t want it. Trust me, I do not want that monster,” I tell her. Right. I don’t want that big hunk of pure muscle and power at all. He repulses me. I detest him. Right? Right?! “Okay, I know that I am kind of overreacting here. But it’s just too weird.”

She shakes her head and flips to the Sports Network. There’s an image of Jackson on the TV and I instantly feel my stomach drop and my heart palpitate. There’s something growing inside of me and I’m trying to understand it, but it’s difficult to wrap my head around. What is happening?

“You’re insane. That man is like the hottest guy I’ve ever seen,” she laughs. When she sees me roll my eyes, she shrugs. “Sorry. But seriously, there’s obviously still a connection there, right?”

“Wrong,” I say. “I don’t want to mend things or anything. I just want to go on with my life. Shit, I just want to be back in Los Angeles.”

“You don’t want the guys back there. They all suck,” she says. “Okay, fine. If you don’t want to mend things, don’t mend things. It’s that easy. But you’re a healthy adult. Jump on that bone a little. Explore each other’s bodies.” Her voice gets all weird and jokey and I’m getting annoyed.

“Jennifer! Ugh, no.” But I can’t help but feel as if she’s onto something. I’m not trying to find love anytime soon. And yeah, he broke my heart like a million years ago. Shouldn’t I be able to put that all behind me and move on? “Maybe you’re right. I’m an independent woman. Why am I still hung up on some bullshit that happened over ten years ago?”

“That’s what I’m asking. Seriously, just own up to what happened,” she says, pouring us glasses of the rosé she brought. I grab at a piece of chocolate and instantly feel relieved. “Honestly, he’s probably not even thinking about it anymore.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Oh, what am I saying? You’re definitely right,” I sigh. “I’m just going to act like nothing happened. We’ll just go about business as usual.”

“Good,” she smiles and takes a sip of wine. I take a strawberry and smile back. “And then fuck his brains out.”

Ugh. Yeah, and then do that. Right. But deep down, there’s a swelling idea that’s causing me to rethink a lot of things. It has to do with our history. It’s the way he touches my arm when I get annoyed. It’s the way he looks deep into my eyes with understanding. He’s the biggest asshole I know, but some of that disappears when he sees me. I don’t get what’s happening, dammit.

I’m not sure I want to.

Jackson

I get the word that I can play hours before the game. It’s an unorthodox decision, they tell me. However, I’m an unorthodox kind of guy, so I take it in stride. My team celebrates the decision with me. We scream it out in the locker room, and although Landon is still eying me funny, he knows it’s the right decision.

“Good to have you in the game, brother,” he says, patting me on the back. “Let’s give them hell.”

I smile and nod in approval. We’re going to give them more than that. We’re going to give them their day of reckoning.

Some of the guys on the Arizona team are people I played with in college. Some of them even had the audacity to question whether or not I’d make the pros. I played differently than the guys in the past. I put my ass on the line and they hated that. That’s exactly what I’m going to do today.

Before we run out onto the field, I manage to sneak away for a second to see my ma. She hangs off to the side of the field, wearing my jersey number, 37, and she’s practically jumping up and down when she sees me. She’s as cute as can be. I want to make her proud with every play.

“Oh, my baby boy!” she squeals and gives me a hug. “I knew they’d put you in the game. I told Brianna the other day at lunch, I said to her, ‘no one can refuse to let my son play in the game,’” she says.

“I’m lucky Ma,” I tell her. “I’m going to play my heart out for you today.”

“You know, you can play however you want. But it would be nice if you called me every once in a damn while,” she says with annoyance. “You never update me about your life. I miss you. Can’t a mother miss her son?”

“I’m sorry Mom, I’ve been a little caught up in things,” I say. “Oh, shit. Guess who’s been working on all my PR campaigns.”

“How should I know that?” she asks.

“Fiona Breckinridge,” I smile. “Remember her?”

“Oh lord,” she says. “You’re in trouble. I can already see it in your eyes. Lord, you’re in deep shit.”

“Mom,” I start. “I’m good. Trust me. Just thought it was a funny thing, is all.”

“Bullshit.” She squints her eyes the way she does when she’s trying to flush out a lie. “You’re telling me because you’re in love with that girl again, aren’t you?”

“Hell no,” I say, shaking my head violently. Love? There’s nothing worse than love. It’s a pack of lies. It’s something that was made up in order to imprison people. A good fling is great and all, but I don’t want to get hung up in that love shit.

“Well, be careful,” she says. “And if you do love her, don’t fuck it up this time.” My mother. The woman who raised my smart ass. Even at age 56, she cusses like a sailor.

It’s about this time that I know I need to head back to the game. I love my mom with all my heart, but she likes to keep me, even when I’m about to play one of the games of my career. When the lights dim and the crowd starts to cheer, I give her a kiss on the cheek and run back to the other players.

“How’s the mom?” Landon asks, grabbing my shoulder pads and shaking.

“She’s proud,” I tell him. “Can’t let her down now. I’m going to have to fuck this team up.”

“What’re you thinking?” he asks, knowing I’ve got something in mind.

“I’m thinking I’m going to run this kickoff into the end zone,” I tell him. “Start the game off real strong. Those suits making all the decisions are going to regret even thinking about pulling me from the game.”

We’re announced and we run onto the field, smashing through big wads of confetti. Cheers for Arizona, boos for the away team. I smile wide. They can boo all they want. It doesn’t change the fact that we’re going to whoop their ass.

Arizona starts the game with a kickoff. The ball goes flying in the air and I know what I have to do. The ball falls into my hands and I run with all the speed I can muster. Suddenly, everything starts to slow down, like in the movies. Only, it’s much more real. There’s so much on the line right now. And I know that if we start out strong, my team will play stronger throughout the whole game.

I glance at my coach, who’s screaming, “Go! Go! Go!” I glance at my mom, who’s doing the same. I look up at the crowd and I spot a fan with my jersey. There’s a look of urgency in his eyes. I look back at the players coming toward me and I’m running right at them.

I juke to the left and a guy falls to the grass, unable to get his hands on me. I dodge to the right and then I scramble to the left again. They miss me left and right. It doesn’t matter what they try and do. I’m too fast for them. I spin, pivot, and hop forward, literally jumping out of someone’s hands. I feel his hand get crushed under my cleats and I know he’s going to feel that in the morning.

Finally, I’m face to face with the end zone. I step into it and the thunderous loudspeakers go off. “Oh my God! Jackson Leeman has scored a touchdown! The game is underway!”

People flip me off because, I guess, that’s my thing. This time, however, I just smile back and give a thumbs up to the crowd. I grab the football and I hand it to a younger kid who’s seemingly happy about it. Today, I’m going to be good. I promised Fiona I would.

I come back to the side of the field and my coach gives me a pat on the back. “Keep it up, kid,” he tells me. I nod, but my head is elsewhere. I already know the game is in the bag.

I sit down and watch as our defensive line holds down the field. We’ve got a good team, that’s for sure. Landon throws his arm around me and says, “You nailed it out there. Why the long face?”

I shrug and take another swig of water. “No reason,” I tell him. “This game is just important to me.”

“It’s that woman again, isn’t it?” he asks me. I smile a guilty smile and run my hands through my hair. “Fuck, man. Well, you saw her, right?” he asks.

“What’re you talking about?” I ask him as thousands of cheering fans go berserk over Arizona’s play. They gain some yards and I glance at the field, but I’m still not worried about losing this one. Landon points over our shoulders and there she is. Fiona, standing in the press area of the field, smiling awkwardly. She waves over at me and I wave back. “Shit,” I whisper.

“Just bang her already, man,” he laughs. “Get it out of your system.”

Maybe he’s right. Maybe I just need to get it out of my system. It’s been a while since I’ve felt like myself. It’s as if lately there’s been a giant weight on my shoulders and I can’t seem to shake it. I’ve never really had that before. At least, not in a long while.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I need to relax about things,” I say. “I can’t keep acting this way, man. I need to get back to basics. I can’t let shit control me.”

“Hell no, you can’t,” he laughs. “Come on. We’re up.”

Arizona gives up the ball without scoring. I throw on my helmet and Landon head-butts me before going in. “Let’s fuck them up,” he tells me. There’s nothing I would rather do.

* * *

It’s not long before the game is over and done with. Dead and fucking buried. Arizona had no idea what was coming to them. It’s sad, really. I mean, to beat your home state by that much. But that’s how it has to be sometimes. There’re winners and there’re losers. I’m always apt to be on the winning side.

And then I see her. And shit changes inside me. I suddenly feel all too aware of my surroundings, aware of who and what I am. I keep asking myself, “Is this who you really are? Someone who’s obsessed with winning? Is that all you’re good for? What about being a decent human being? What about putting effort into someone that isn’t you?”

Out in the dead hallway of the stadium, she comes up to me. I’m with the whole team and we’re shouting and smiling, and having a good time. We’re in good spirits because of the win, but when I see her, I have to stop myself. I distance myself from the group and the guys know something is up, so they continue walking. A few whistle at her and I give them an angry look. Landon just laughs to himself.

“Hey,” I nod at her and lightly touch her arm. “I didn’t expect you to be at this one. What’s up?”

She looks down at the cement floor for a second before her eyes meet mine. “Well, I couldn’t miss our hometown game. Could I?” she asks. “I had to fly in and see you crush them. Plus, I’m pretty proud of my PR skills. I totally got the league to let you play this game.”

She’s right. Without her, I’d be on the sidelines, cheering on the second string player who took my spot. Fuck that. “I don’t think I ever thanked you for helping me with that,” I say. “So, thank you. I’m glad my mom got to see me play here.”

“It’s no big deal, really,” she says. “Want to take a walk? You probably have a party to go to or something.”

“Nah, not tonight,” I admit. “I’m trying to lay low for a night. You know, I need to control myself a little.”

We walk through the halls and find an exit. I hold the door open for her and feel the hot air outside come rushing in. We walk out and the desert noises that were once home, are loud and familiar. They bring back memories and emotions I never thought I’d feel again. It’s oddly comforting.

“I never thought I’d hear you say those words,” she laughs. “Control myself. You did really well out there. No showboating necessary, you see? When you handed that kid the football, that was perfect. Just keep doing stuff like that for a while. Right now, you’re just trying to impress the networks and league.”

“I don’t know,” I laugh a little, feeling nervous. I don’t know how to act around this woman now. I don’t know what the protocol is. Ever since we met again, things have been all around crazy. My whole life has been in the spotlight. I guess it always has been, but this feels different.

“What don’t you know?” she asks me. We sit on the curb of the sidewalk, outside the stadium. A few fans walk by, but they don’t notice me. This isn’t like Portland. I’m practically anonymous out here.

I put my hand against hers, almost out of instinct more than anything. “Fuck the networks. Fuck the football league. I’m not trying to impress them or anyone,” I say.

“Oh yeah?” she asks, but she’s staring away. She’s looking off into the distance as cars drive by on the freeway.

“I don’t know,” I laugh. “Sometimes I think I’m only trying to impress…” I stop myself and feel my body grow anxious. My heart is actually beating faster than it does out on that field. I gulp down the bit of saliva I have left, and I allow myself to face what I’m feeling. “Sometimes I feel like I’m just trying to impress you.”

Her pupils widen and I feel her hand underneath my hand move away from mine. What the fuck? I didn’t expect her to have such an adverse reaction to those words. In my mind, I pictured something completely different.

Her breath quickens and she starts to look around us, as if she’s making sure no one is around. “Look,” she says, “we have to talk.”

No thanks, I think to myself. But what I really say is entirely different. “Okay. What’s on your mind?” I’m already trying to get out of here at this point. That shit I said about not partying after the game was just something to say. Now I’m wondering how I’m going to get out of this one.

She starts by taking a deep breath. Then she says, “The thing that happened the other day—”

I cut her off. “You mean, when you kissed me? That thing?” I ask her. “Look, don’t worry about it. I haven’t thought about it in days. I forgot it even happened.” I move away from her slightly and cough.

“Are you sure?” she asks, eyes full of fake emotion and empathy. “Because I felt really stupid for even doing that.”

“Yeah,” I repeat. “I’m sure. It was an accident. We have a lot of history together. It was bound to happen.” I smile and act as if everything is okay. Truth is, everything is not okay. Everything is dull. It’s boring. And now I want to get back to my old life. Why the hell did she have to even come here, anyway?

“Definitely,” she says, nodding hard. “I work for you. It would be a total breach of contract. Not to mention, it would be totally unethical if anything more were to happen.” I look at her finally and notice she’s wearing a nice dress that cuts off around the tops of her thighs. It’s brand new and I can tell she wore it for a reason. I can’t help but feel a mixture of confusion and anger. Why is she playing games?

“Well,” I say with a sigh. “It was good seeing you here. I’m glad we had this talk.”

“Wait,” she calls out as I step off the curb. “You’re not leaving, are you? I mean, maybe we could get some drinks or something.”

I laugh and turn around to face her. The look in her eyes is priceless. She knows she shouldn’t have brought that shit up here. Not tonight, anyway. But I guess I overstepped my boundaries. I shouldn’t have let out my true feelings. I should never tell women how I feel. I’ve learned that lesson one too many times.

“I shouldn’t be drinking. Not right now, at least. I have to focus on my training,” I tell her, winking. I smile wide to make sure she feels better about the situation. “Everything you said tonight needed to be said. Don’t even worry about it. Seriously. I’m cool.”

“Okay,” she says, dangling her keys in her hands. She wraps her palm around them and gently slides her fingers through the metal rings. “Let me know if you want to get breakfast or something. We can talk about getting you a cover shoot in Time. Sound good?”

“Sure thing,” I say, keeping my smile up. I unlock my rental car and jump in. I turn the car on and watch her walk slowly to her own vehicle. Before leaving, I roll down the windows and tell her one thing. “Nice dress, by the way. I’m glad you took my advice.” I pull out of the lot as she stares in my direction and watch her sit back down on the curb.

Fiona

Leave it to me to fuck everything up. I should have kept my mouth shut, but I couldn’t let him say anything more. I don’t want him thinking that we can keep playing this little game. We had something real, but that was years ago. Now, we’re just business partners. That’s all we’ll ever be.

But I can’t deny what I’ve been feeling for him. If I’m being one hundred percent honest with myself, I have to admit that I wish something would just happen. Take tonight, for instance. Why did he have to say anything? Why couldn’t he just take control and kiss me?

I find myself driving home with the radio off, headed in the direction of my hotel room, feeling lonelier than ever. On the freeway, I drive fast and steady. I get to my hotel and fall onto the bed, groaning loudly. I want to call Jennifer and expel all my problems to her, but instead, I grab a wine cooler from the fridge and guzzle it down.

I turn off the lights and turn on the TV. The only thing that’s currently on is infomercials and the coverage of tonight’s game. I keep it on the Sports Network, but it just causes more anguish seeing Jackson’s face all over the screen. The headline is: Has our favorite bad boy finally gone good?

It’s not a very good headline, but it works. I close my eyes and run tonight over and over in my head. I should have kept my mouth shut. I should have just let things happen. It’s like Jennifer said. I just need to fuck his brains out and be done with him, once and for all.

I glance at my phone every ten seconds, hoping for a text or something from him. There’s nothing. Not even an email from Joseph.

I close my eyes and feel myself back on that sidewalk curb. The smell of the asphalt washes over me and suddenly, I feel how I used to feel, back in high school, before my life started to unfold into the chaotic disarray that it is now. I can hear Jackson talking about all his hopes and dreams. And that rush of excitement floods me all over again.

I open my eyes back up and call him. The phone rings hollow in my ears, sounding a million miles away. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m letting life guide me as it wants to. I’m just holding on for the ride, praying this will end well. Spoiler: it won’t, but I’m making the damn decision.

“Where are you?” I ask him immediately, once I hear his deep voice say ‘hello’ on the other end.

He doesn’t hesitate. “I’m at the Saguaro Inn. Not too far from you, probably. I’m with the guys, though. What’s up?”

I can feel my heart pounding. The Saguaro Inn. We’re staying in the same hotel. Okay, duh. In the background, I can hear yelling coming from the other players. It sounds like a small party, but frankly, I’m not about to join in on that fun.

“I’m hanging out and getting mildly drunk on wine coolers,” I tell him. There’s a long pause of silence and he doesn’t break it, so I clear my throat awkwardly. “And I guess I’m calling to say sorry about earlier.” I shut my eyes tight and pray he won’t freak out.

Luckily, he doesn’t. “It’s fine,” he says. It’s a little cold, but I’ll take it. I know I probably deserve it, anyway.

“It’s not. I know it’s not,” I tell him. “But I want to make it up to you.” My heart starts beating irregularly. My skin starts to prickle and my face feels clammy and hot. I take a deep breath and wait for his response.

“Yeah? And how are you going to do that?” he asks me. The sound behind him disappears and I can tell that he’s walked into the hallway of the hotel. He’s interested in what I have to say. But what am I doing? Am I crazy? Answer: probably.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you come over and find out? We’re in the same hotel. I’m probably just down the hall. Room 307,” I tell him.

“I’ll be right there,” he says, hanging up.

Suddenly, this is all too real. I close my eyes again and there we are. We’re young. We’re in love, but most of all, we’re totally lusting after each other. That was forever ago. Now, things are complicated in general. Being an adult is chaotic and crazy.

We’re young.

Well, those days are over, right? Now, we’re headed into oblivion.

I hear a knock on my door and I nearly trip over the hotel dresser when I run toward it. “Okay, chill out,” I tell myself, brushing my hair down. I’m still wearing that dress, the dress I bought to impress him. I hate even admitting that I did that.

I open the door slightly and look through the crack. “Oh, it’s you,” I say, smiling slightly.

“Yeah, it’s me. Let me in,” he says. I unlock the door and pull it open. He’s wearing a white wife beater, and his muscles are practically calling to me through the fabric. “

“Why are you staring at me all weird?” he asks, eying me as well. “Damn, I really like that dress on you. You know that?”

We walk in and I sit on the bed, rubbing my palm against the bed blanket. My dress is tight and it hugs the tops of my thighs, and I know he can’t stop looking because every time I make eye contact with him, his eyes scramble. This is already so fucking bad, but the course is set.

He doesn’t sit down. He just stands above me, looking at every part of me. I can’t read his thoughts, other than hunger. I just sit, yearning with anticipation.

“You know,” he starts. “You don’t have to apologize. I think I overstepped my boundaries earlier. I’m really sorr—”

“Jackson,” I whisper. “This isn’t a PR campaign. No more apologies. But since we’re business partners now, I think we need to figure out our boundaries. From now on, I think we should be straight with each other.”

“I agree,” he says, biting his lip slightly. I have half a mind to run my palm against his impenetrable six pack, to rip off his belt and feel the weight of all his power against me. But I don’t do anything. I just sit, stare, and wait patiently for his move. I’ve never done anything like this before. I’ve never felt this spontaneous. At least, I haven’t in a very long time. I’m starting to feel that this is a night for new opportunities.

“Alright,” he nods. “No more apologies. That’s fine.”

And then out of nowhere, I say what I need to say. It just comes right out of my mouth. “Touch me,” I tell him.

“What?” His pupils widen and he takes a step forward instinctually, but I can tell that his mind is telling him to do two different things.

“I’m not going to tell you again,” I whisper, closing my eyes. I spread my legs open against the bed. “You wanted me to wear this dress right? It’s because you think I’m sexy, right? You want to give me all you’ve got, right? Now’s your chance. Touch me, Jackson.”

He looks around the room as if someone might be watching. I shake my head and grab his hand. He doesn’t need much guidance. After that, everything changes. It’s not so slow anymore. The room starts to heat up as I feel his hand ride up the bottom of my dress. Right past the flowers on the fabric, his hand slithers against my smooth skin.

Finally, he touches my lips and groans loudly to himself, as if in approval. “Jesus,” he moans. “You’re soaking wet, Fiona.”

“I keep thinking about this,” I tell him, opening my eyes again. “I want you. I don’t know what that means, really. But I do. I need you to fuck my brains out.”

“For old times’ sake?” he asks me.

“Fuck the old times,” I laugh.

“That’s exactly what I want to hear,” he says. He leans over me and kisses me once, pulling back slightly. He smiles like the cocky bastard he is and I glance down at all his tattoos and battle scars. I know he’s about to give me the fucking of a lifetime and that actually presents itself in two ways. First, I feel excitement and yearning, followed by a small tinge of exhilarating fear.

He pushes his hand further up the bottom of my dress and slides his palm against my ass before pulling the whole garment over my head. He smiles and rips my bra off, snapping the left strap completely.

He kisses me again, biting down gently on my lip. His tongue wraps against mine and he pulls back again. We both look down. Him, at my body. Me, at his cock that’s pressing against the fabric of his gym shorts. My heart skips a beat and I’m suddenly even wetter than before.

“You want this?” He smiles, pulling off his shorts. I grab his underwear and slide them down. “You do want this cock, don’t you?”

“Give it to me.” I smile. “Give me everything you’ve got.”

“I don’t think you want me to go there just yet,” he says. “It’s probably too much for you to handle.”

“Don’t tell me what I can or can’t handle,” I whisper. I push my body forward and fall to the floor on my knees, arching my back and pushing myself closer to his massive cock. It’s bigger than I thought. Much bigger. “I can handle you,” I tell him, but I’m not sure if it’s true.

“Open your mouth, baby,” he whispers, his right hand falling against my cheek. His left hand goes further down, to my tits, on full display for him. He squeezes gently and rolls my nipple between his fingers. He pulls back on the tight skin and takes a deep breath. “I want to see you swallow me whole,” he says.

I grab his thick cock and start stroking him. My jaw drops open as he guides his cock into my mouth. I use my saliva to ease him in and taste salt as his head slides against my tongue. He pushes into the back of my throat and holds with a look of utter concentration on his face, like he’s trying not to cum right there. Then, he lets me go, giving me the reins.

I slide my lips off him and look up, stroking my hand over his girth.

“That’s it?” I smile. “That’s all you got?”

He pushes himself in deeper this time, over and over again, fucking my mouth. It’s lewd and dirty and so incredible. I’m squirming, trying to relieve the desperate need between my thighs as his cock actually gets harder. I mildly regret putting up such a tough exterior for him, but I’m going to finish what I’ve started.

My back is arched from this position and he reaches forward to smack my ass, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to my pussy. Smack! His hand lands on my ass again and I moan around his thick cock. He does this twice more before pulling his cock from my mouth, leaving me breathless and readier than ever.

“Fuck,” he moans. “I need to taste you. I need you in my mouth.”

He picks me up and sets me on the bed, kissing up my thighs. I feel a rush of pleasure shoot from my core, all the way up to my chest. My skin tightens and my face turns red, struggling to catch my breath when all I can manage are shallow shuddering gasps. I already know I’m not going to last.

He grabs my ass again and pulls me up to his face, sliding my panties right off. He looks at the flowery design and smirks. “Cute.”

His warm tongue parts my lips and I fall back against the bed. He moans licking me, pausing only long enough to whisper illicit things into my thigh. “I can’t believe that I’ve been missing out on this for a decade.”

“Me either,” I pant. He pulls on my thighs until I’m basically sitting on his face. He spreads me open with two fingers and slides them in.

“I’m going to make you cum, baby,” he smiles. He licks upward against my clit and lightning shoots straight to my toes, making them curl. All the while, he presses his fingers against my g-spot and moves them in just the right way.

Goose bumps shoot across my body and I’m suddenly lost in a world of pleasure and anticipation, barely able to hold on to my reality. It’s that good.

He eats me like there’s nothing else in the world he would rather be doing. My toes curl inward and I feel that knot inside me starting to build. I know that once it gets too big, I’ll lose myself to him. “Don’t stop,” I whisper. “Keep going. Just like that. Yes, Jackson! Yes!”

He doesn’t say a fucking word. He doesn’t need to. He knows what I want and he’s going to give it to me. But first, he wants to show me everything I’ve been missing out on for the past ten years.

His tongue smooths over my clit, lips tight around me. Finally, I feel it. I feel the knot burst. Just like that, I’m sent spiraling. “Oh god…” I whisper, but it’s already too late. My palms grip the bed sheets, squeezing as hard as I can. My body goes limp and rigid at the same time, and my pussy contracts against his fingers.

Before I’m finished cumming, he leans over me and pushes his cock inside me. My mouth falls, hanging wide open now. My eyes nearly roll into the back of my head. I’m numb with pleasure, completely enveloped by it. He wraps his arms around my waist and pushes himself in deeper, groaning loudly. Just hearing his wild sounds sends me further into a state of uncontrollable ecstasy. This is so fucking wrong. But, as it goes, that’s what makes me want it more than anything else.

“Harder,” I find myself telling him. He leans forward and kisses my neck and collarbone. He’s so gentle when he kisses and yet, passionate and deep. He runs his tongue across my tongue, up to my earlobe, I feel a rush of sensation, like I’m trapped in my orgasm.

I look down at his body. It’s impeccable. It’s perfection. It’s… fuck, Jennifer was right. He might be the hottest guy on the planet and, unfortunately, he has to be my ex-boyfriend. But right now, I don’t give two shits about that. He starts thrusting in quick intervals and all of our “history” goes out the damn window. It’s not about that anymore. It’s about our passions, our animalistic urges.

He flips me over, placing me on my knees, smacking my ass again. I feel the burn from his handprint radiate within seconds and I instinctually arch my ass more for him to do it again. He does and I feel oddly relieved.

I’ve never been this kinky before. I’ve never really ventured outside of the box. So when he fucks me doggy, I almost feel violated. Almost. Truth is, I feel exhilarated. Crazy and free, and I just can’t believe it’s Jackson doing this to me. Jackson, the good neighbor boy from down the street.

He grabs the thick flesh of my ass and pulls me against him. I open up for him and he slides himself in again and again. He keeps using my ass as leverage, pulling me back and then forth, back and forth. “Fuck,” he moans. “Your body is so… incredible.”

By the way he holds me, I can tell he’s already close and trying not to let himself go too soon. “Shoot your cum inside me,” I whisper, turning back. “I want to feel it.”

“Yeah, baby?” he asks me. “You want all of me?”

“I want every single last drop,” I tell him, spontaneously. Again, this is not my normal go to. Jackson just makes me feel like I can get away with anything. He makes me want to be crazy. Normally, that would be a terrible thing. But tonight, it’s everything I need.

His muscles grow tense and he falls forward a bit, shuddering. “I’m going to—” But he doesn’t even need to say it. It’s already happening. His cock thickens as he fills every inch of me. I feel his cum shoot as he holds me tight and close. He pulls me to his chest as he fucks me from behind and I swear I can feel his heart beating against my spine.

We fall to the bed and I grab a cigarette out of my purse, for old times’ sake. He glances at me and smiles, looking a little embarrassed. “Shit.” He runs his hands through his hair and looks down. I light my cigarette and smile, handing it to him.

“So…” I find myself saying, while smiling. “That happened.”

“Yeah.” He laughs. “It did.”

He leans forward and kisses me again before taking a drag. His kiss is so captivating that it actually kind of scares me. How this all happened, I can trace it back. How it will end isn’t something I want to think about. He takes a drag from the cigarette and smiles. “So,” he says. “Time for another round?”

Jackson

I’m not sure what it is, but I always manage to get kicked out of women’s beds. I mean, I know a lot of guys pull that shit, but even though I’m one of football’s hottest tickets, I tend to say the wrong thing one too many times. Shit, I don’t mind. It makes for a good conversation afterward.

This, however, is different. Much different. Fiona… well, shit. I don’t even have to go there. I just keep wracking my brain, trying to figure out how the hell this all came to be.

First, she denies me. Then, she calls me and I apologize. She invites me over, uses me for all I’ve got, and throws me out again. I usually say something offensive, or I’m rude and they don’t want to take my shit. Not this time. This time, I don’t know what the hell I did wrong.

“Man, you know I want the best for you,” Landon says at practice a few days later. “And I thought that you banging this chick—”

“She’s not just a chick. She’s my ex,” I correct him.

“Right. Whatever,” he says. “Point is, I knew you banging this chick was a bad idea. Now you’re stuck in it, brother.”

“Like hell I am,” I laugh, gearing up to go out on the field. “I’m still the same guy, man. No chick is going to bring me down. I promise.”

“Famous last words.” He shakes his head at me.

The whole thing is shit. Utter shit. I’m only saying that because he’s right. She’s going to be the death of me. Now, I’ve got a real problem on my hands. It’s all because I can’t ever keep it together. It’s getting to be an issue.

The coach comes out on the field and gives me a fist pound. “Everything alright?”

“Everything’s great, coach.” I smile back. “What’s the plan?”

And just like that, I’m forced to switch back into game mode. No more outside distractions. No more of the bullshit. Just me, my teammates, and the game. Only, it’s never that easy. What goes on outside makes a difference on the field.

“I think you’re all warmed up enough,” he says. The other coaches nod in agreement. We’ve been running for a straight hour now I’m guessing, and we’ve been training ever since we’ve gotten back from Arizona. “We’ll scrimmage. Over and over again, until I’m satisfied. You all wanted to go to the Championships. Well, here they are. They’re standing right in front of you. What’re you going to do about it? I’ll tell you. You’re going to work, boys. You’ll work until you become men.”

First play, everything goes according to plan. I run how I’m supposed to. I eye the ball, like I’m supposed to. And in the end, I run to the end zone. We’ve gone over these plays a thousand times. I have half a mind to ask the coach to head home.

Then, the images start flying by. “Hike!” Loke screams and the ball comes barreling back into his palms. For a second, I hesitate. Her smooth thighs, shining in the almost dark. The way they wrapped around my chest… I shake my head and blink. I need to concentrate. Her perfect body, the way she looked at me last night, told me more than I should know. Her wetness.

Fuck, my head is not in the game. I look up and the ball is coming at me like a bullet. It hits my helmet and falls to the turf. The rest of the team looks at me like I just had a stroke. Shit, it sort of feels like I did, to be honest.

“Cum,” she said. “For me.” Her scent, the way her fingers curl around my skin, sending electricity throughout my body. What the fuck is happening to me?

“Nice catch, idiot,” Landon whispers, smacking my helmet.

“I think I need some water.” I shake my head and pull off my helmet. I jump around a little to try and get the circulation running through my body. “I’ll be fine in a second.”

“Bullshit,” Landon says, “I think you need a kiss and a hug from your girl. Seriously, man. You’re acting like a little bitch. Toughen up a little. The game is coming up and I want to go to the Championships.”

The coach yells from the side of the field, “What the hell is going on, Leeman?” He throws the folder of plays into the air and I watch it fall to the ground. “You keep playing that way and I’ll pull you from this field so fast it’ll make your head spin. Got it?”

“I don’t know what came over me, coach,” I yell back, walking toward him. “Give me some water and I’ll be good next play.”

He hands me a water bottle and shakes his head. The rest of the players avoid eye contact with me. I’m starting to feel like the whole team knows about my business. I think they all hate me. That can’t be, right? That’s gotta be in my head.

Her legs, propped over my shoulders making me go insane. Her taste giving me all the energy and passion I could ever want. And now? Shit, I’m hooked. I need more. But I’ll never admit it.

“Get back on that field and show me what you got, son,” Coach says, pushing me back on the field.

We get back into a huddle and Loke looks at me earnestly. “Don’t worry about it, brother,” he says. “It’s just one play. It happens.”

“Yeah, I know. I just wish I could figure out what it was that got me back there,” I tell him and the rest of the offensive team. Landon makes a loud grunting noise and I glance at him with anger. “You got a problem?”

“Please. Just play the game and do it without me having to question your manhood,” he says, smiling at me, just jerking my chain about as hard as he can. That’s when I know that shit is going to be weird from here on out. Our friendship will be forever tainted, all because I need Fiona back in my life.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I don’t need her. I’m just getting shit out of my system. And she’s helping me look better in the limelight. That’s about all our relationship is. We fucked and it was a dumb idea. That’s all.

More images jump into my mind without prompting.

Pumping, pulsating, and yearning for each other, our flesh slides across one another’s. The room is hot and heavy. Her toes curl as I mount her. The anticipation is too great. This is all we’ve both ever wanted. We’ve been waiting for this for more than a decade now.

“Fuck this,” I tell the team. I take off my helmet and tackle Landon’s petty ass. I don’t plan on doing it either. It just happens. In a split second, the rage inside me builds and builds, until I can’t take it any longer. I just want to pound his face in for even giving a shit about my love life. Would I be an asshole to him if he found someone? Hell no. But Landon has always wanted my life. Ever since we met, I knew he was jealous of me.

“You piece of shit!” he screams, taking a shot at my face. “Get off of me! Get the hell off of me!”

“Boys!” Coach screams. “If you keep this up, none of you will play! You hear me?”

Coach Scott Stern, one of the baddest football players in the world and now our coach, comes charging onto the field. I don’t know what it is, but he’s got the energy of his youth behind him. “You don’t want to listen? Fine,” he says. “Then, be warned.”

He jumps on us like a linebacker would on game day. His arm comes down hard against my thigh and I’m forced to let go of Landon’s neck. Landon, like the bastard he is, takes a cheap shot at me. I fall back against the grass and smile to myself. “I’m done. I’m done,” I repeat. That’s right, I think to myself, You’re done for the day. Pack your shit and go home.

“Get the hell out of here,” Coach says. “Landon, you stay behind. I’m not letting you continue this bullshit in the parking lot. This ends now.”

“But coach, I—” I start speaking, but he doesn’t want to hear anything that’s coming from my mouth at this point.

“Jackson…” He sighs loudly, chest going up and down rapidly. I think this little tussle really took a lot out of the old man. “Get the fuck off my field. I don’t want to hear your excuses anymore. Get your anger in check. I’ll see you back here on Wednesday.”

Landon picks himself up from the ground and wipes the bits of grass from his pants off. “All because of a girl? Seriously, man? You need to grow up.”

I don’t say a word back. This whole thing has already embarrassing enough. The whole team is in total shock. I mean, they’ve seen me throw fights and shit, but it’s never against my teammates. Now, a new dynamic has formed. When that shit happens, it ain’t too good for a team’s morale.

I exit the field and make my way through the locker room taking a quick shower before I leave the arena. I grab at my phone. No new text messages. Damn. All this getting worked up, over a girl. What have I become?

Fiona

My heart flutters. My body still aches with desire. Then there’s the fact that his handprints are still marking my ass. And the imprint of his teeth is still on my neck.

I keep thinking about last night, even though I probably shouldn’t. I can feel his hands wrapped around my thick flesh. His fingers sliding inside me, curling against all the right places. And then I think about the orgasm that left me speechless. The way he maneuvered his tongue was something unprecedented. No man I’ve ever been with has been able to do what he did.

I fall back onto my bed and squeeze my pillow, nearly screaming, but I’m too horny to be upset about my stupid choices. I bite down on my lip and remember him doing the same thing to me. I wore that dress for him and he ripped it off my body, tearing my panties in half.

I imagine his hand slowly moving up my thigh and then my skin starts to prickle. I close my eyes and imagine his towering body standing over me. He’s ready for me. That much is obvious. But am I ready for him?

I move my hand against my belly button, down to my pelvis. I tickle around the sensitive areas of my skin and shiver slightly. I exhale deeply and then take another breath of air. The room feels hot and sweaty, even though it isn’t. I’m still stuck in the throes of last night, overcome with lust and terrible desires. I want more. I want it to get crazier.

My hand runs over my pussy and I’m wet again, already. I rub my clit, plunging two fingers into my wetness. With my other hand, I open my bedside drawer and pull out a vibrator. “That’s better,” I smile to myself.

I imagine his hard, thick cock above my pussy. I press the vibrator inside me and sigh loudly. I imagine it’s Jackson, mounting me and making me his. It’s all so wrong. Me, giving myself up for some jock is not part of the plan. But every time I think about how wrong all of this is, I fall further into the fantasy.

“Fuck me,” I whisper to myself. I push the vibrator in deeper and feel my lips spread apart. It’s not big enough. It’s not as big as him. It doesn’t feel the same, but it does the trick. I push it inside me, over and over again, moving it around in circular motions. Within a minute, I feel the pressure build. It needs an exit. It needs to release. “Oh, Jackson,” I moan. And then, within seconds, I tremble and release.

The orgasm shoots throughout my body and I’m left paralyzed. I drop my toy and fall back against my bed, grabbing at the wood above me to hold myself steady. “Shit,” I moan loudly, toes curling into the bed.

And when the orgasm is over, I’m left with my stupid emotions. I’m left with wanting him even more. I can’t believe myself. I can’t believe I let him do this to me.

My phone vibrates suddenly and I grab at it as fast as I can. Thanks for last night, Jackson says.

Great. You’re welcome. It was, uh, swell. I can’t send that. I take a few minutes to think about my answer. Oh, Jesus. This is like high school all over again. What’s the right thing to say in this situation? Thanks to you too? God, I’m so inept at this bullshit. How can I talk to sports stars and TV hosts, but not be able to talk to Jackson, the boy I dated and grew up with?

I write out, Yeah lol, but I erase it immediately. I get out of bed and make myself a cup of coffee. I set the phone down and decide to just forget the whole thing. By the time night hits, I won’t even care.

I take a sip of coffee and sit down. My phone vibrates and I feel my heart race. I slam my hand over my phone and look at the text. I’m serious. I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t stop thinking about you either.

I feel weak. My body feels light and my heart’s racing. Who am I kidding? There’s no way I can forget the feeling of his warm body, sucking, scraping, and kissing every tender part of my body. I type out a reply. Sorry, I was in the shower. Last night was… hot.

Hot. Yeah, I said it. But last night was so much more. It was perfection. The only thing that could have made it better would be to spend tonight doing the same thing.

If Jennifer was here right now, she’d congratulate me, and say something like “Why aren’t you over there right now? What are you doing?”

Should I listen to her voice over my shoulder? The old me would think that’s an awful idea. But now, I feel up to trying her advice. Who knows? Maybe it would lead me toward something good. Not that I’m even thinking about a longer road with Jackson. No, this is all just fun and games. I swear, it’s only a good time.

You’re in the shower? Can I join? he asks me, my phone sliding across the table from its vibrations. I close my eyes and see him thrusting against me. My face starts to feel clammy. I’m blushing red, even though I’m alone. My heart is still the bane of my existence.

The water is still hot. It’s practically scorching my ass, I type out. I click send and feel my pussy tingle with excitement. My throat starts to tighten and the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

You’re making me go crazy, he texts. A few seconds later, he texts me again. My cock is so hard it hurts. And then a third text. This time it’s a picture. He’s naked and his skin is glistening. He has a towel over half of his hard cock and the fabric just hangs over it. I hate to admit that I’m actually salivating looking at it.

Man. You want to spread these lips bad, don’t you? Tell me how bad you need it, I say back, the sheer naughtiness of my words making me squirm.

I do. I’m dying for it. You have no idea. I can’t sleep. I can’t play ball. I’m letting everyone down and it’s all because of your pussy, he says.

I start laughing uncontrollably when I see this. Still, at the same time, I love reading those words. It’s exhilarating. It feels like life has begun again. Shit, though. Things never end well when they feel this good and I tend to make this mistake a lot. I’m aware of the consequences.

Crawl over here, boy, I text him back with a winking face.

I drink a glass of wine and pour a hot bath, dipping my toes into the hot water and I’m forced to jump back out because it’s so hot. Finally, I get my knees in and wait for him. My door is unlocked. My body is shaking with anticipation. This is so bad. I can’t believe I’m doing it.

The door creaks open and I hear his heavy footsteps coming toward the bathroom door. It pushes open much faster than I expected and he’s standing there, wearing no clothes, stroking his enormous cock. He’s got his signature, cocky smile on and he knows he’s about to get some ass.

He walks forward and I turn and press my hands against the tile wall of my shower. He reaches out halfway and grabs my ass, slapping it lightly. I close my eyes and moan, feeling the urge for him swell up inside of me.

“Miss me?” he asks.

“Yes, Jackson,” I moan. “I’m a happy woman, now that you’re here.”

He loves hearing that. Any kind of praise or encouragement gets him off. “You’re the best,” I tell him, and he smacks my ass harder.

“Quit telling me what I want to hear,” he says. “I want you. I’ve been going insane over you. And yes, I blame you for the mess I’m in.”

I smile and turn my head, narrowing my eyes. “Well, then. What’re you waiting for? Aren’t you going to punish me?”

His grin falls short, turning into a slight grimace. His eyes are dark and serious. He steps inside the bath tub and his hands slide down, between my legs. He cups his fingers around my lips and softly presses upward, slowly inserting a finger, using the rest to spread my lips outward. His cock presses softly against the top of my ass and I exhale sharply, unable to contain myself.

“Fuck me,” I reiterate. “Fuck the life out of me, football star.”

He smiles and grabs the back of my hair, pulling downward. I sigh and arch my back out further, pressing my cheeks against his cock. I push up and down, massaging against his shaft. I can feel him grow as I push my hips from side to side.

He pulls my hair down further until I’m on my knees in the bathtub, ass sticking out from the water. My nipples press lightly against the water when he says, “Listen to me very carefully. I want you to do everything I say. By the end of this, I want you to make this cock yours.”

“Yes, Jackson.” I spread my cheeks and feel the head of his cock touch my lips, teasing me. He pushes his body forward and his arms come over me, wrapping around my chest, hands against my tits. He squeezes gently, thrusting forward. His breath is slow and steady. He knows he can take every bit of me and get away with it. I push back until his cock disappears inside of me, and he groans deep and irrational.

He kisses my neck, and starts to thrust more powerfully inside of me. One hand falls to my hip, gently guiding each motion. I lift the front of my body and push back against him, until I’m sitting on his lap, his cock deep inside. I place my hands on his muscular thighs and bounce up and down. He kisses the top of my back, near my neck, and I move faster, rocking my hips back and forth.

I feel myself letting go, the water rocking in unison around us. He thrusts upward and my pussy slides around him with ease. One more thrust and I’m sent spiraling. I grind my clit against him, pushing his cock deeper inside me. He fills me to the brim and I find myself screaming along to his sudden groans and grunts.

I cum, and I cum hard. I grab every bit of flesh I can and I press against him, arching my back out. My body spasms in a confusing rhythm and the feeling of extreme euphoria rushes over me. Suddenly, joy is within my every fiber. “Your cock is perfect,” I manage to say between breaths.

He spins me around and places me back on his lap. I throw my thighs around his chest, sitting down on his cock. He thrusts upward and grabs me close. “Look into my eyes,” he says. I do and he doesn’t stop staring. He wipes a piece of hair from my eyes and kisses me, pulling back on my lips. “I think I want to fuck you forever,” he says, smiling.

He lifts my tits against his mouth and slides his tongue around my nipples. He drains the bathtub as he fucks me, pressing my back against the shower wall. He lifts me up until I’m holding onto him, his hands gripping my ass.

He’s still holding me as he steps out of the shower before placing me on the bathroom sink. He holds my legs out and I feel my heart beating again, water dripping down my body onto the floor. He runs his hand against the porcelain sink, sliding closer until he reaches the core of my body. He holds my pussy like it’s his, rubbing his index finger against my clit. His finger slides inside me and I scoot closer toward him, my back against the mirror.

“Spread that pussy for me,” he says, and of course I do.

“Give me your cum,” I tell him.

“Shut up,” he says, smiling again. He places one hand over my mouth and the other around my neck, squeezing lightly, but not hard enough to feel any pain.

I grab his hand off my mouth and whisper. “Harder.”

He squeezes my throat and I nod up and down. “Fiona Breckinridge, you’re one kinky woman,” he says and I simply nod at him, opening my mouth slightly.

His cock replaces his fingers inside of me and his pupils expand. His body goes rigid and he fucks me like he owns me, kissing my thighs while my body bangs against the glass. Hearing that, he looks at me with a sudden concern in his eyes. “Harder,” I tell him.

He throws his hand over my mouth again, closing his grip tighter around my neck, and I smile as I feel him get harder inside of me. He buries himself within me only a few more times before he’s shooting inside me.

He falls forward and we passionately make out for a few minutes, still riding high. I grab his face and look at his chiseled jaw and cocky eyelashes. Don’t ask me how they’re cocky, they just are. We pull back from each other and I laugh.

“What the hell is so funny this time?” he asks me. “I’m pretty sure I saw you squirming back there.”

“I did a little squirming. You’re right,” I laugh. “I just can’t believe all that just happened.”

He falls forward and kisses my thighs. I fidget away from him, but he grabs me takes me into the bedroom, pushing my body flat against the bed. “Believe it,” he says, wrapping his tongue around my clit. He sucks making my toes curl and gives me a smile that makes my heart jump in a funny way. “Believe it.”

“I believe, I believe!” I squeal.

Tonight, he’s spending the night. I already know how this one’s going to end. We’ve already drank enough wine for five people and we’re falling over the place. It’s not good and I don’t even want to know how this looks. We’re playing football in the back yard and I’m on all fours, on the grass.

“That’s not exactly the position,” he says, falling underneath me with the football. He grabs the ball and kisses me. “But I like seeing you like that.”

“Oh you do?” I ask him. He grabs my legs and I fall on top of him, laughing. If someone were to find out about this… If Joseph was to find out about this, I’d lose my job. How dumb am I? Turns out, pretty dumb sometimes.

“You know I do,” he says, smacking my ass.

We make our way back into my room, drink some more wine, and fall into bed. He offers to eat me out again because he’s a filthy animal and says he “can’t live without my taste in his mouth.” I’m not sure if I should be flattered or not, but in the end I take it as a compliment.

We fall asleep like drunken messes and I wake up a little later with his hand firmly gripping my butt. “I love this,” he murmurs as he falls back asleep. I love this. Oh. There’s that word. The dreaded l-word, love.

I don’t say a word. I just close my eyes and hope he forgets what he just said. When I wake up again, he’s hard as a rock. He leans over and kisses me, pressing his cock against me. Of course, I’m wet. I can’t even control myself at this point. Looking at that gun he’s packing makes me go insane.

I wrap my legs around him without thinking and he fucks my brains out, again. He tries for a second round, but I’m forced to push him away. “I have to go to the office today,” I tell him, swatting his hands away. “Plus, I think we need to take a little break.”

He falls against the bed cushions and sighs loudly. “A break? What? Why?” So many questions all at once.

“Um,” I close my eyes and feel my muscles tense up. Why? I suddenly don’t know why. I look at him with his perfect body and peak strength, and I suddenly forget why a break would be beneficial for anyone in the world right now. “Because my company works for your team. It’s unethical.”

He laughs loudly and grabs at the wine bottle, taking a few sips. He spills some of the dark red liquid on his chest and laughs some more, shrugging. “Fuck being ethical then,” he says.

I fall across the bed again and groan. “Ugh! I know. No one is ethical. Not really. But we could get caught and I do not need that in my life right now. Seriously, Jackson.” I grow tense and serious and, still, he laughs at me.

“Well, fine. You can take a break. I’ll work overtime for you. Your pussy means that much to me,” he says. He smiles wide and rolls over, pulling me against him.

“Don’t make me barf,” I say, rolling my eyes. “But if you need to do that, go right ahead. You won’t get me playing those games.”

“You’re out of your damn mind if you think I’ll give up,” he says. “I’m always up for a challenge.”

“Good God,” I sigh. “I really am fucked, aren’t I? Something has changed inside of you hasn’t it? What have I done?”

He lets go of me and sits up. “Nah. Same old dickhead,” he says. “But I’m sort of obsessed with your ass right now. Sorry. It happens. I’ll get over it someday.”

“That’s appropriate,” I tell him, smiling. “just don’t let it affect your game. If it does, we’ll be both out of a job.”

He rubs his hand over his eyes and his smile suddenly fades away. “What?” I ask him. “What’s wrong?”

“I sort of threw a punch at a teammate yesterday. Landon,” he says, tensing up. “But, fuck it. He deserved it.”

I feel disappointment flow through my body. My whole body stiffens before I have the nerve to speak. “You punched a teammate? Come on, Jackson. We talked about this.”

“Don’t be disappointed,” he reassures me. “Everything is fine. It’s all taken care of. I got the day off to let off some steam.”

“So you came here to fuck my brains out. That’s letting off some steam?” I ask him, grabbing my clothes.

“Yeah, actually,” he smiles. “There’s nothing that could make me feel as good as you have lately.”

“Okay.” I sigh. “You can’t say things like that. It makes me feel weird. It makes me—”

“It makes you wet, doesn’t it?” he asks, reaching between my legs. I push away from him, laughing.

“A little, but that doesn’t mean you’re right!” I say, standing my ground.

“I’ll be good. I promise,” he says. Do I believe him? “I’m an idiot who makes mistakes sometimes. It’s not the end of the world. We’re going to crush the next game and then the game after that too. I’m going to take us to the Championships, baby.”

I tap a finger against his abs. “Don’t let me down. You’ve been on my good side lately. You don’t want to see my bad side.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He salutes, kissing me.

When he leaves, the house is quiet, except for the branches that tap against my window. I hug my pillow and curl my legs around it. I’m in too deep, aren’t I? I told him we couldn’t be together, but how are we supposed to contain this now that it’s gotten so out of hand?

I fall asleep to dreams of him. Odd dreams. Dreams where we’re walking together and we’re old. And when I wake up in the middle of the night, dying for a glass of water, I realize just how stuck he is in my mind. I’ve got to keep my distance. I can’t let myself fall any further.

Jackson

She looks into my eyes and tells me we shouldn’t keep up what we’ve been doing. The woman just can’t handle me, she says to me. She can’t handle fucking me so much and if we continue, she’ll never be able to resist me. It’s not exactly the worst thing a girl can tell a guy.

Still, I get the picture. This is bad news. I’m bad news. This is always how I’m perceived. Back when I was a kid, people always thought of me as the good kid. Now, people either scoff at me or hide their eyes.

It’s not hopeless, however. In the end, I’m still going to win at this. It’s like I said to her: I don’t give up and I love a challenge. And right now, I have bigger fish to fry. I gotta make up with Landon and Coach first.

I actually first head to the local bar, grab a Rainier and down it. I don’t aim to meet anyone today. The reason I’m out is purely to wind down, away from people. Except my whole fucking team walks in through the doors and I’m forced to reevaluate some things.

First of all, where was my invitation? If there’s a team function, I’m usually the first to know. I’m the first to grab shots for everyone and I’m always the person to give a toast. Instead, I’m in the damn corner, drinking a warm beer all by myself. It’s just as I suspected. The team has some weird shit against me now. Makes sense, I guess.

Landon walks in last and throws his hands against the bar loudly. He orders shots for everyone and doesn’t even look my way. He takes the shot, orders another round, and proceeds to jump on top of the bar. He grabs another shot glass and raises it high in the air. Someone yells up to him. “Speech! Give us a speech!”

“I was never one for speeches,” he says. “So all I have to say is fuck you, and drink up!”

I shake my head and attempt to leave. I’m halfway out the door before I lose it. It’s like I’m not even on the team anymore. I turn back around and head to the bar. “What’s the word?” I ask, slamming down my arms against the bar loudly. My palms clap against the wood and Landon jumps out of surprise.

“What’re you doing here?” he asks coldly. I take a shot from his limp hand and down it back. I sigh loudly and smile.

“Just came to get a drink. I’m allowed to do that, right? This is, after all, my favorite place to drink,” I reason. I’m not out for blood. I just want to make myself clear. All that Landon and I had in our friendship is now shattering before my very eyes.

I look into his light blue eyes and spit onto the floor next to his shoes. He jumps back, throwing his arm behind him. He lands a solid punch against my jaw and I fall back with a wince. I shake it off and keep my smile on him, taunting him every chance I get.

The whole team at this point has surrounded me. They’re yelling this and yelling that. It’s funny, actually. In a moment of crisis, everything tends to blackout. It’s like I’ve found my special place. The place where everything slows down before speeding right back up. I close my eyes and wait for the right cue.

Someone behind me whispers, “Bro, don’t do it. Don’t swing back. Landon is just trying to work you up, so you can’t play in the next games. He wants to take the Championship from you.”

It sounds like Loke’s voice, but I can’t be too sure. Either way I spin it, it’s not anyone’s championship but our championship together. There’s no one road to glory. Still, the thought of Landon holding that trophy up to a crowd of 100,000 people makes me sick to my stomach.

He swings at me again, hitting me in the upper cheek this time. I’m less mad about the pain than I am about him fucking up my face before practice the next day. I push my body off of the bar and throw my hands up.

“You know what?” I say. “Me and you, we were tight man. Now look at you. Look at how you’re acting. Over some bullshit misunderstanding. It’s cool, brother. You got your revenge tonight. I’ll see you on the field, boy.”

I push past the crowd and head outside. A few second string losers start cheering at my departure. They’ll do anything to please Landon. Anything for a shot at fame. Of course, they won’t get any closer using this tactic.

The door slams behind me and when I’m outside of the muffled bar room walls, the sounds of the street rush by me. It starts to rain and I have to laugh at myself when my clothes are sticking to my skin, clinging to my chest. I start to walk, but the sound of the bar door opening and closing again makes me turn my head.

“Wait up,” Loke says, jogging behind me.

“What’s up?” I ask. “Hey, thanks for the tip back there. That was you, wasn’t it?”

He nods. “Yeah, man. I don’t really get this feud between Landon and you, but I’d rather it just stopped,” he says, pacing on the sidewalk in front of me now. He starts to shiver when his clothes become as soaked as mine.

“Don’t look at me.” I laugh. “I’m cool with making up. It’s him who keeps provoking me.”

“I know you, man. You’re a loose cannon, sure. But you’d never turn on one of your brothers. That’s just not like you,” he says. “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you to be careful. Don’t let him fuck with your anger.”

“I’ll try my best,” I sigh. “It won’t be easy, though. Back there in the bar, I swear I almost ripped his fucking face off.”

Loke laughs and looks down. “All over a girl, huh?” He eyes me, smiling.

“Yeah,” I laugh. “But it’s complicated. We go way back.”

“Is she good, or what?” he asks. “Do you love her or some shit?”

“I don’t know.” I turn my head. “I just know I don’t want to be away from her. I don’t get it, Loke. I never thought I’d grow so soft.”

“You ain’t soft, man,” he shakes his head. “You kidding me? I’ve seen you shatter a 240-pound player’s shin, right in half.”

“Yeah, so what? Everybody has a story like that in this business,” I say.

“Man, Landon’s never played a hard play in his life. He’s been handed everything on a silver fucking spoon. You’re the real deal, man. So, stay safe. If you like this girl and shit, you better do it right. Go after it, but don’t let it affect your game. No more fighting. We stick together.”

I give him a hug and pound his back. “Thanks, man. We’ve always had a good understanding of each other.”

He just nods and I walk away. Loke and I have a bond, much stronger than me and Landon’s. It’s good to know I still have some allies in this business. I head home, walking in the pouring rain. When I get to my place, I’m shivering and shaking with cold.

Somehow, I fall asleep. When I wake up, I’m as sick as a fucking dog. I can barely speak, let alone run a play. And I just know that Landon will be on the field, celebrating my failures.

Fiona

I get the text and within an instant, I fall back into panic mode. Got into a little fight, he says. Don’t worry. No one saw and I didn’t swing back. Proud of me?

Yeah, real proud. I roll out of bed and text him back. No one saw? You sure about that? If any of this leaks out, we’ll have a mess on our hands. I can just see the headlines right now. “Football hero is losing his cool all over again.” “Anger Management,” or my favorite headline I made up, “Jackson Leeman fights teammate, runs home to PR girlfriend.”

No matter how you spin this, it doesn’t look good for anyone. It’s starting to seem like Jackson is an impossible player to work for. He’s not crazy. I won’t let the press fight him on that one. No, he’s as sound as a whistle. The only thing is, his luck only reaches the field. Off the field, he’s going to fuck up and he’s going to get caught for whatever he did.

That’s why I can’t be with him. I have too much riding on this to let it go down the drain. Plus, I’ve got a life in LA. I can’t just stay in Portland forever. I’ll transfer right after this Super Bowl and leave this time behind me. I’ll remember it as “The Time I Fucked Jackson Leeman.” Not exactly the nicest headline, but it’s accurate.

Of course, I start to get flashes of his impeccable body in my mind. My cheeks turn a rosy hue and my breathing becomes more difficult than before. I put my face in my palms and squeeze to wake myself up more. I walk into the shower, turn it on, and feel the cold turn a steamy hot. I step inside and clean myself off.

The water falls along the curves of my body and, again, I remember the other night. His strong abs pressing against my back as he pounded his flesh into me, the way his arms wrapped around my body, him losing himself for me… I shake my head and open my eyes again. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep playing this game.

However, it is the only thing in my life right now that feels, well, real. My career is perfect. I do my job well and I go home to a nice place. At the end of the year, my salary looks pretty damn good, and I get a few months off after the Super Bowl. So, what do I really have to complain about?

A knock on my door sends me cowering to my room. I look outside the blinds and see Jennifer scowling at me. She motions for me to unlock the door and I do, embarrassed. I open it and stand in front of her with a damp towel covering my body.

“Sorry,” I tell her. “I thought you were… him.”

She pushes past me and groans. “Again? We’re still on this guy?” she asks, falling onto my couch.

Sure, come right in. I walk into the bathroom and keep the door open as I get ready. I dry off, and reach for my comb. “Yeah, well. It happened again,” I admit.

“Of course it did,” she says, grabbing an apple from my fridge. She cleans it off and helps herself, taking a big bite. “I knew it would. It never just happens one time.”

“It can happen one time,” I correct her.

“Impossible,” she says, shaking her head. Her mouth is full of green apple bits.

I lean out of the bathroom and glance at her, annoyed. “You’re going to tell me you’ve never had sex with someone just once?” I ask her. “I’m sorry, it just doesn’t seem believable.”

“Honey,” she laughs, jumping back down on the couch. “If I’m fucking someone, you better believe that I’m going back for seconds.”

I shrug. “Well, I guess I’m just not that good at finding Mr. Right. I’ve been with plenty of men who haven’t satisfied me,” I say.

“Oh, I didn’t mean that they all satisfy me. I just mean that I always go back for seconds,” she laughs again. “I’m usually disappointed.

“Yeah, well. Same here. That’s what’s so weird. I thought it would be one small thing, you know? I thought I’d be bored by the next day,” I admit. “Oddly enough, I’m not. It’s weird, but I’m actually captivated by the whole damn thing.”

“How was the second time with him?” she asks, back straight and perky.

“You don’t even want to know,” I laugh, starting the blow dryer. The hot wind wraps against my scalp, the roar nearly drowning out my thoughts.

“Um, actually, I do. I need to know. Don’t you get that by now? I’m loving this little romantic fling you’ve got yourself into,” she yells over the dryer.

Within a few minutes, I’m done and I step outside again for a second. “The second time was the best I’ve ever had,” I concede.

“Tell me,” she demands. “Now. I need to know.”

“Ugh,” I groan loudly. “It’s too graphic. You don’t really want to know.”

“I didn’t say want,” she says, annoyed with me. “I said I need to know. You’re over here, getting the best sex of your life, while I go on dates with losers and get nothing satisfying in return. It’s not fair. The least you can do is share your glories with me.”

“Oh!” I run back into the bathroom and grab my makeup. I bring everything outside of the bathroom and sit down next to her. When I glance at myself in the mirror, for a second there, I see the 18-year-old version of myself, staring back at me. There’s an innocence in her eyes and it makes me feel awkward for a second. I grab the mascara and everything changes back within an instant.

“I almost forgot to ask you.” I turn to her. “How did that date with the producer go?”

“Stop trying to change the subject,” she says, glaring at me. “It’s like I just said. It went awful. The guy was extremely boring and when we got back to my place, he kissed me on my cheek.”

“On the cheek? Jeez,” I laugh.

“Yeah, so I invite him in and he accepts,” she goes on, “but he falls asleep right before… oh, never mind!”

She runs over to the fridge and grabs a bottle of white wine. She pours it in a glass without asking and takes a big drink. “He fell asleep while eating you out? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“No,” she says. “I am not.”

She takes another drink and fills the glass back up. “What are you telling me then?” I ask, trying to contain my laughter.

She looks down at my tile floor and struggles to even get the words out. “Um, well. He kind of fell asleep while I was doing something to him,” she says, squinting her eyelids together. She’s got a painful look on her face, like she never wanted that to get out in a million years.

“Oh my god,” I fall against the back couch cushions and squeal loudly. “Are you kidding me? He fell asleep while you were giving him head?”

“You don’t have to say it like that,” she says, groaning. She comes back to the couch and crosses her legs. “Anyway, yeah. He left and I never called that bastard back again. He’s been texting me all week. So, yeah. You have to spill the details of your little rendezvous before I tell you anything more about my shitty romance life.”

“Well, it was kind of similar,” I tell her. Her eyes light up and suddenly a smile breaks out onto her face. “It’s similar, except for the fact that it was the best sex of my life and isn’t similar to your situation at all.”

I smile and she gives me a pained frown back. “Fuck you,” she says. “There’s a special place in hell for people like you. You know that, right?”

“I do,” I smile and bat my eyes at her. “I told him I was getting in the shower and that if he wanted to come over, he should. I didn’t say it exactly like that, but he knew the deal. I got in the bathtub and actually waited for him to come over.”

“And he did? Holy shit, Fiona. You’re kinky,” she says, covering her mouth like she said something bad. “Keep talking. Now.”

“Yeah, he came over. He walked right into the bathroom and the rest is history,” I laugh. I close my eyes for one second and see flashes of his strong hands cupping my tits, and falling down to my waist. I can see him controlling my hips, pushing himself in and out, while firmly holding me.

“Not fair,” she sighs. “He’s in love with you. Not fair at all.”

“He is not in love with me,” I say. “Besides, I made it clear to him that night that we should break it off. It’s just fun and games, Jennifer. That’s all.”

“Okay, I don’t really care that you told him you wanted to break it off. You can’t do it, hon,” she says, turning serious.

“Uh, yes I can,” I tell her, finishing up my makeup. “I can and I did. It would be career suicide if I kept this going. My PR firm works for him. We were hired by his people. If any of this leaked to the press, I’d lose my job in an instant.”

“Then the question is: what’s more important? A perfect romance or the perfect job?” she asks me.

I can’t actually answer this question, which leaves me feeling a bit weird. What is more important? What will give me more happiness? On the one hand, it’s nice having enough money not to worry about too much. I’ve got a good house, the company pays for most of my dining out, and I get to work with some of the best players in the world. That would make a lot of people happy?

Still, I look at how it makes me really feel and it’s not the best. In fact, I’m fueled by my stress on a daily basis. My whole office is, actually. It’s just the way the industry works. Then there’s Jackson. How does he make me feel? Well, he worries me all the time. He’s always getting into trouble. Not to mention, he’s kind of a dick sometimes.

On the other hand, he’s made it pretty clear that he wants to try for something more. If anything, it’s me who is holding back on this front. And it’s for good reason too. “I can’t afford to lose this career,” I tell her. It’s weird to say out loud.

“You can literally afford to do anything you want,” she says. “As long as you’re with Jackson, you’ll have all the money you’d ever need. With all the games, sponsorships, and commercials he does, you’ll get a nice check every month.”

“Yeah, if we got married or something. But you’re jumping a little far ahead of things. Don’t you think?” I ask her.

“No, I do not,” she smiles. “You two have a lot of history together. Fuck, girl. You’re meant to be together. Don’t you see? It’s a perfect love story!”

“Just because it sounds good on paper, doesn’t mean it is. You like to live vicariously through me and I get it. But don’t think that this is some perfect love romance type of thing that you might read in a book. It’s not. It’s lust, plain and simple,” I say, feeling a bit winded.

“Whatever you say or want will come true,” she says. “The guy wants you and I don’t think that’ll change anytime soon.”

“We’ll see, I guess,” I tell her. “Maybe it’ll change for me, though.”

And that’s when the truth comes out. Maybe I’ll be the one to get bored of things this time. He’s already reached the peak of his career. It’s not like he’s going for bigger things after this. If anything, he’ll just go through the motions that all other great players do. He’ll lead an amazing career and retire, doing the occasional commercial gig here and there, or hosting a Sports Network television show. Maybe in the end, I’ll be the one who has to leave. And that, more than anything, scares me.

Jackson

“Hike!” I run wide and with haste, feeling my lungs about to give way. The ball is thrown high into the air and I should be able to get this one easy. Only, I don’t. It goes right into the hands of a second string linebacker, who runs it on home. I throw off my helmet and scream to the sky. Anger doesn’t help me one bit.

I’m playing the worst I’ve ever played and my coach knows it. Hell, my teammates all know it. Loke pats me on the back and whispers encouragement. “It’s all good, man. It’s one game.”

“It’s not though,” I tell him. “The Super Bowl is coming up. What if I’m still playing this bad?”

We walk off the field and Landon yells out, “Nice job, man! Can’t wait for the big game!”

The coach glares at him, but he keeps one steady eye on me. He’s just waiting for me to explode. Everyone is. They expect it from me now. They want me to lose my cool. The whole damn team is against me now. I can feel it.

“Don’t listen to him,” Loke says. “Remember what I said?”

“Yeah, I remember,” I say. “Don’t worry. I’m keeping my cool from here on out. There’s not much time left, anyway.”

We sit down on the bench and grab a bit of water. I can barely fucking breathe today. My congestion is through the roof. I can’t get around the truth, that I’m sicker than I’ve been in years. Of course, no one gives a shit. This is the pros. You get sick and you play through it. That’s just what you do.

“I guess, man. What’s up with you today? You feeling okay?” he asks me.

“Nah,” I sigh, trying my damn best not to cough. “I’m sick as hell. Something happened to me at that bar.”

“Probably the rain,” he says. “You think you’ll be good by the next game? It’s a big one.” He winks, but I can tell he’s worried. He’s worked hard for this too. After all, he’s the quarterback. There’s a lot of pressure on the guy.

“I’ll be good by tomorrow,” I tell him, really believing it.

When the practice ends, however, I know this is a bad one. I take a few deep breaths and close my eyes. There’s three days left until the game and we’re playing Dallas, one of the best teams in the league right now. If we win this one, we’ll be set for the Super Bowl. If we don’t, we’re fucked. We’ll just be another team who almost made it.

I’m just about to fall asleep, when I decide to turn on the Sports Network. It’s good for me to know what’s going on before these games, and right now, they’re mainly talking about the Championships.

When the show comes back from the commercials, I see my team logo flash on the screen. “More drama for the Black Wings,” the female host says with a slight smile on her face. Ratings, ratings, ratings. What will boost this woman’s career tonight?

“Reports are circulating that Jackson Leeman, famed wide receiver for the Portland team, has gotten into another fight. This time, it’s with a teammate,” she says. The screen switches to a few different images of me catching the football during a few pretty famous plays. Then, it cuts to me flipping off the camera, fighting at bars, and yelling at interviewers. You know, just the regular stuff I do on a daily basis. Or did.

I groan and sit up, trying to pay attention to what she says next. “Three of the staff at the Black Wings Arena report that they all witnessed Jackson fighting with Landon “Brickwall” Karagon. There are no videos yet of the incident, but there have been separate reports of a small brawl at a local pub. We reached out to the coach, Scott Stern, who gave no comment.”

“Great,” I sigh, falling back into bed. My phone starts to ring and I actually answer it without looking at the screen. It’s her, Fiona.

“Miss me?” I ask, mouth full of phlegm. I sound like a complete wreck.

“Fuck you, Jackson,” she says. “Are you sick or something? You sound horrible.”

“I feel like a million bucks,” I laugh. “No, I’m actually really sick. Lucky for you, you don’t have to worry about me coming over late at night right now.”

“Are you watching Sports Network? Did you see the piece?” she asks me.

“Yeah, I saw it,” I tell her. “They don’t have any proof. Everything is fine. Again, you’re worrying too much.”

“We’ll have to give a statement,” she says. “And you don’t know if anyone saw you or not. You better be praying that no one got any video of your bullshit.”

“I’m telling you, no one got a video. No one saw anything. It was just us in that bar,” I say, shutting my eyes. All I want is to just go to bed.

“I can’t ever trust you. Can I?” she asks. Oh, boy. Here we go, I think to myself. First she tells me she has to break it off. Then, the shit with Landon goes down. Then, I get sick before some big fucking games. Now, she hits me with the hard questions? When can I just resume my life?

“You can trust me. I promise. I’ve really chilled out,” I say, but the silence on her end tells me she doesn’t really believe me. “Come on. Have some faith in me, why don’t you? No one else does right now.”

“What do you mean?” she asks me, voice slightly hushed.

“My whole team hates me now. Landon’s got them all turned against me,” I say. “The only person who has my back is Loke, and I’m guessing his trust is hanging by a thread too.”

“Landon? What the hell does he have against you?” she asks.

“You.” I laugh, but instantly regret saying it. She doesn’t need to know the situation. She doesn’t need to know just how much I’ve given myself up for her. It’ll only make things more complicated if she does.

“Me? What the hell are you talking about?” she asks me.

“Never mind,” I whisper.

I bottle up my emotions. It’s what I’ve always done. When my dad beat the ever-living crap out of me, I learned to hold back my tears. When I fuck up a play, I simply look the other way and go onto the next play. When I was 18 and left Fiona for the sport I love, I just kept moving. There was no time to think, and I knew that deep down everything would fall into place.

Maybe that perfect place is now. Maybe I just need to keep moving forward, until things are perfectly aligned. Never mind, I whispered to her, grip firm around the phone. Only, I wanted to say “I think I’m falling for you.” How would that look? I’d look pretty stupid if she said “no thank you” to me.

So, I wait for her response. I wait for her to say “Just keep trying. Stay out of trouble and drink a million grams of Vitamin C. I need you to keep running things smoothly. Okay, Jackson?”

“Okay,” I mutter. “I’m drinking orange juice as we speak.”

“Good,” she says, smacking her lips against the receiver. It makes me go crazy, hearing them. I immediately think about her on her knees. Her ass, pressed against me as I kiss the back of her neck…

“I gotta run,” I tell her, hanging up the phone. I can hear her say my name one last time before I press the red button.

I walk outside my house with a bottle of bourbon. It’s not the best plan, but it’s something to help me cope. I walk and I walk, downing the bottle’s contents. This part of the city is dead at night, but I weigh my options. I can walk into the forest and drink until I pass out in the leaves. That’s one horrible option that I actually consider.

In the end, I just keep walking. I make my way to the bridge and finish off most of the bottle. I give what’s left to a homeless beggar who looks at me like I just gave him gold. “Have at it, hoss,” I tell him, smiling.

His eyes crease and his mouth moves into a round shape. “Say, aren’t you that ball player from around here?” he asks me.

“You got the wrong guy,” I tell him. “Have a good night.” I throw him a 20-dollar bill and keep walking. My footsteps soon turn into drunken stumbles, but I make it to a bar, down past the bridge’s exit.

Quickly, I’m surrounded by college kids looking for something exciting to do. I don’t tell them there’s nothing to do except waste the days away. You can sleep, get fucked up, or eat some food. That’s about all there is. I was told you can find love if you want it enough, but that’s starting to sound like a pipe dream.

I glance at one of the girls with some guy near the entrance. They’re bickering about something stupid. He wanted to go to a different bar, but her friends are here. Now, they’re saying they don’t want to be with each other.

“Here’s a solution.” I smile. The smell of bourbon emanates from me. “Why don’t you have a few drinks here? Then, you can make a pit stop at the other bar you wanted to go to earlier.”

“Piss off,” the guy says to me with an awkward British accent, like he’s been practicing it for a long while or something.

“Yeah.” The girl turns to me. “No one fucking asked you for your opinion.”

“Fine.” I shake my head and walk through the bar.

Inside, I ask for a shot of whisky. “Make it a double,” I say, smile disappearing.

Fuck the world. No, seriously. Fuck it all. You can’t win when you’re Jackson Leeman, the most famous sports player to ever walk these streets.

“It’s on the house,” the bartender, a beautiful woman of about 35 says to me. She even gives me a wink. “Nice game in Arizona last week, Jackson.”

“Thanks,” I say, kicking back the double shot of whisky. When it goes down, it stings as good as I wanted it to.

A few minutes later and I’m drunk. The bartender, of course, knows it. She’s leaning over the bar, tits pressed against the wood, and something in me is different now. I can’t quite put my finger on it.

Her shirt is half open. It’s white and it’s a button up. I watched her unbutton two of the buttons before she grabbed the bottle of whisky. The funny thing is, if this were a year ago, I’d have her in my hot tub by 11 o’clock. But it’s not a year ago. Something has changed inside of me. Do I not give a shit about fucking anymore?

Hell no. That’s something that’ll never change. It’s not that. Fiona. I look at the bartender and she smiles, clicking her tongue against her teeth. Her face changes into Fiona’s and suddenly I’m staring at that successful, gorgeous, and surprising PR agent. Fiona Breckinridge, the only woman in the world that does something for me now.

She hands me another shot and I smile, raising the glass. “To success,” I say. She cocks her head to the side and repeats my words. “No, dammit. To love,” I correct myself.

“To love,” she says, biting her lip. We both down a shot quickly and she bursts out laughing. I can already tell this is not where I should be.

“My shift ends in 30 minutes. What do you say we get out of here?” she asks. I sigh and she keeps talking. “Don’t worry, sweetie. I live alone.”

I drop my face to my hands and groan even louder. When I look up at this woman in front of me, she smiles, but I can tell she thinks I’m crazy. It’s either that, or she knows how much of a loose cannon I really am.

Fuck it.

I push the barstool back, nearly knocking it over. I’m pretty damn drunk and I know people can tell. I have to get out of here before I do something stupid.

“No thanks,” I tell her. She makes a pouty face that’s supposed to be seductive or something, only it doesn’t do anything for me. “I’m sorry. I’ve got a girl back home, waiting for me.” Correction: I wish I had Fiona Breckinridge, waiting for me, naked on my couch. I wish I had Fiona Breckinridge’s legs wrapped around my face. I wish I had her straddled over me, so I could eat her for hours. I wish I could give her my hard cock. I wish I could have her for seconds. Fuck, I wish she was mine.

“Wait, here’s my number,” she calls out to me. “Just in case.” I turn and she’s holding out her card, but I can’t even consider it. There’s just something in me that wants to change, and this time it’s for good. Is that what love is? Doubtful. But every time I think about doing something “bad,” my stomach turns and I feel weirder than I’ve ever felt before. My heart actually aches too. What the hell is the deal with that?

Fiona

What the heck am I doing? I’ll tell you. I’m standing in front of Jackson’s door with a bag of Mexican food I picked up from a few blocks away. Don’t ask me why I’m doing this. I just felt the urge. After all, Jackson and I are very good friends, and close business partners. We need to look out for each other.

I ring the doorbell twice and wait, feeling antsy. I rock back and forth on the balls of my feet and breathe quickly. There’s no answer at the door, so I knock three times and wait. Still, there’s no answer. I ring the doorbell again, but it’s not looking like he’s home. I begin to walk away, when I notice his garage door is open, and the door inside too.

I walk inside and knock against the wall. “Jackson?” I call out. “You home?”

His home is big and very empty. It’s extremely quiet, except for my shoes clicking against the marble floors. “Jackson?” I call out, once again. His house is a total wreck. There are bottles of booze, littered all around the kitchen. One bottle has spilled out onto a rug near the fridge. I pick it up and sigh with disgust. “Come on, man. Get it together,” I whisper.

“I was going to get my maid to clean that up,” a voice behind me says. I nearly jump, but I instantly recognize Jackson’s rumbling voice. I turn around and then I actually jump when I see him. He’s completely naked and very hard.

“Oh, my,” I say, throwing my hand up to my mouth. “I was not expecting you like this.”

“How were you expecting me?” he asks, pushing past me. He opens his fridge and grabs a bottle of orange juice. He downs a gulp of it, spilling some across his perfect abs. Yeah. I’m dying a little. We’re just friends—I have to keep telling myself this, over and over again. It’s my new mantra and I kind of hate it.

“I don’t know. I thought you’d be outside lifting weights or whatever it is that you do to train for the big games.” I laugh, avoiding eye contact with his huge cock. “Wait, aren’t you sick?”

“I guess the Gods are on my side today. I’m not sick anymore,” he says. “Also, this is what I do to train,” he says, grabbing my hand. He places my finger against his abs and slides it across the spilt orange juice before bringing it up to his mouth, sucking on it. “Mm…” he smiles and gives me a wink. I gulp loudly.

“Well, I brought you Mexican food,” I tell him. “You hungry?” My eyes fall toward his cock. I can’t help it. I have to get another look without him noticing me. My eyes fall toward his thick shaft and when I glance at it, I quickly look away.

“I saw that,” he laughs. “Mexican food, huh? Well, I am hungry. Just not for that. The real question is, are you hungry?”

“Am I hungry? Quit joking around, Jackson. I’m trying to be a friend here,” I say, moving away from him. I sit at the bar in his kitchen and lean back against my chair.

“I’m not joking. In fact, I never joke around. I’m a very serious guy,” he says. He’s still naked and I can’t stress enough just how much my eyes keep darting around his body. It happens so much that I start to get fed up.

I walk up to him and stare into his eyes. “Yes,” I tell him.

“Yes what?” he says, still smiling at me, the arrogant prick that he is. He reaches out and runs his fingers against my wrist. His hands are rugged and wild. His stare is deep and longing, and surprisingly serious. He’s brooding, yet cocky.

I swallow hard and say the words I didn’t want to say to him. “Fuck you, Jackson.” This time, I’m smiling.

With one short grab, he reaches out under me, and grabs my ass through my jeans. He pulls me toward him and I fall against his lap, hard. “What’re you doing?” I nearly yell and he pulls me even closer to him, so that my lips are inches from his.

“What?” he asks. “You want me to stop? Honestly, tell me if you do.”

I gulp down, once again, and struggle to keep my eyes fixed on his. “I…” I stutter, unable to get the right words out. “I don’t know,” I say to him. This is the honest truth. I don’t know what the right choice is anymore. Is my job really that important, that I’m willing to sacrifice my happiness for it?

“I think you know,” he says. There’s no smiling anymore. There is just the sound of our breathing. Our eyes begin to close and I already know what’s about to happen. I reach down and place my palm over his cock. It’s warm, extremely hard, and I need it inside me. Now.

“That’s right,” he moans. “You know exactly what you want. Let yourself have it.”

He doesn’t mess with the buckle of my jeans, or the zipper. He grabs the back of the denim and pulls down hard, until it slides over my ass, down to my ankles.

“You’re not wearing any panties,” he groans, smacking my flesh, his eyes locked on mine. Our lips finally meet and they meet with an unexpected force. His tongue soon follows, wrapping around mine and sliding away.

We create a rhythmic motion with every one of our muscles, until I’m straddling his lap. He rips off my heather grey shirt and he places his mouth around my tits, pressing them together. “No woman can compare,” he moans. “I keep dreaming about these. Why do you have such a hold over me?”

“I can’t stop it either.” I moan, loudly. His hand curls around my pussy and he spreads my wetness over my lips. Some of it even falls against my thighs and it’s not long before he’s sliding his shaft against my clit.

I grab his thickness, that incredible girth, and I glide it into me. He thrusts, until his cock is deep inside me, and then we both moan together. He holds onto my waist, fingers dropping to my hips. I grind against him, feeling the tip of his wonderful cock press against my g-spot.

“I keep thinking about your cock. When I’m outside, when I’m dreaming, when I’m talking to friends… I can’t help it,” I admit in between breaths. “I don’t want to have to need you.”

“Need me,” he moans. “I want you to. I need you to need me.” He thrusts into me with more force than ever before. He holds my shoulders down until he bottoms out inside of me. I push off of him and walk up to his glass door to the backyard. I place my hands, tits, and face against the glass and he walks up behind me, as if he is examining my ass.

“Perfect,” he whispers to himself.

He places his cock against my ass and slaps my tender flesh, making me wait for him to fill me again. “Stop teasing me,” I beg him, wiggling my ass. “And fuck me, already.”

He grabs my hair and pulls back, forcing himself inside of me. I feel my skin prickle and grow warm. The hairs on my neck begin to rise and my legs feel shaky and weak. I push back against him and suddenly feel every bit of his strength. Normally, I would just feel desire pulsing through my body. Instead, there’s something more. It’s something I can’t quite figure out. It’s a feeling…

My whole body falls hard against the glass as he pulls my hair back. I fall limp and I begin shaking harder than I anticipated. Soon, my eyes close shut and I’m skyrocketing out of my body. All my nerves are shot. My pulse quickens and my mouth falls open wide. I can feel the wetness dripping down both of our bodies.

He pulls away from me, only to pick me up in his arms. He places my legs around his waist and stares into my eyes. “Hey, beautiful,” he says.

I’m too shaky to even reply. I simply smile, feeling happily exhausted. The way he fucks me, no other guy could ever compare to him. All doubt I had about being with him goes right out the window now. He kisses me and pushes my frizzy hair out of my eyes with one finger. He smiles and kisses me again, licking his lips. “I can’t get your taste out of my head,” he says. “Come on. Take a chance. Be with me. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I could lose my job,” I whisper, feeling his hands wrapped firmly around my ass and thighs.

“Fuck your job. You don’t need it when you’re with me,” he says. This is exactly what Jennifer said to me and, though it didn’t sound so hot when she said it, it kind of sounds okay now.

“We’d have to be secretive,” I tell him. He smiles and I can tell he’s thinking up some devious shit. “No, I mean it. We have to be really secretive. Okay?”

“I promise. Look, pinky swear,” he says. He puts his pinky finger out and I put mine against his, kissing it. “I won’t leave you. I didn’t think this would happen, but it’s happening. And now I need you, dammit. I’m not going to mess this up. I promise.”

“No more fighting?” I ask him, still straddling him awkwardly.

“The only fighting I want to do is with you,” he laughs.

“Fine,” I say. “Let’s do it. Let’s be together.” I can’t believe the words are spilling from my mouth. Will I regret them in the morning? Will I want this years down the line? Better yet, will I lose my job over some jock ex-boyfriend of mine?

Before I have time to think, he’s got me pinned against the bed and he’s thrusting like a wild animal. “I’m so fucking happy,” he says.

“Me too,” I say. The emotions I have right now are too complex to understand. Butterflies are flapping inside my stomach. My throat tightens, but it actually feels good. A permanent smile is plastered on my face and when I open my eyes, I can see he’s smiling too. “I just can’t believe any of this,” I whisper.

His hands slide down to my breasts and he cups them softly. “I’m going to cum,” he says, staring into my eyes. His pupils seem to grow bigger and darker, and his body grows more tense. His breathing becomes rapid and strong and his cock doubles in size before he explodes. One more thrust, and he’s done for.

“Fuck!” he screams, sliding his rigid flesh deep inside of me. He cums inside of me and pushes his cock even deeper. He opens his eyes again, regaining consciousness, and he’s fully aware of what our new dynamic is now. We’re, uh, dating. I expect it to be awkward. Instead, it’s everything a girl could ever ask for.

He rolls over and kisses me some more, hand sliding across every curve of my body. I feel his hand smack my ass one more time. “I could really get used to this,” he says.

“Well, don’t,” I kiss his cheek. “If you do, I might fall in love with you. And you know what that means.”

He sighs, but keeps his eyes steady on me. “I’m not going to leave you. I promise,” he says.

“How can I believe you? How do I know you’ll keep your promise?” I ask him.

“You don’t, but you’ll have to have faith in me,” he says. “Look, I was young then. I made a ton of mistakes. I wanted fame so fucking bad, I was willing to throw away everything to get it. Not to mention, I just wanted to get away from my past. I wanted to forget my father. I needed to forgive my mother for just standing there when he…when he…” He sighs and looks away for a second, and I can sense his anger is getting the best of him.

I kiss his lips and run my hand across his cheek. “I’m sorry, Jackson. You don’t need to explain it to me anymore. I understand. I still think you’re a prick for not telling me the honest truth, but I forgive you nonetheless. We’re older now. Much older,” I tell him. He kisses me back and smiles.

“I’ve got a lot of learning to do, I guess,” he laughs. “But I’m doing better. I’ll apologize to Landon first thing at the game tomorrow. I swear.”

“Fuck Landon,” I declare, getting out of bed and running to the bathroom to comb my hair. I see my naked body staring back at me and I can’t help but laugh.

“Wait, what?” he asks.

“Fuck Landon,” I repeat. “He’s more of an asshole than you are. He’s jealous of you and has nothing to show for it. Still, you can’t fight him. You can’t let him ruin your career.”

“Yeah, I know,” he sighs. “But what can I do? Let him rag on me?”

“Actually yeah,” I tell him. “Let him rag on you. Let him talk shit. And then, when you head onto the field, you play the best damn game of your life. Your teammates will start to see the correlation of shittiness with Landon soon enough.”

I do the unthinkable that night. I fall asleep in his bed with his arm placed strategically around me. Just like that, everything changes.

Jackson

The next game we play is in Portland, thank God. However, it’s not what I expect. At first glance, everything seems to be fairly normal. Only, right before the game, I realize what’s happening. They’re shutting me out.

“Get in there, boys! Let’s show these idiots how it’s done!” my coach screams as we run onto the field. “Whoa, not so fast,” Coach grabs my jersey as I walk past him.

“What’s up?” I jog lightly.

“We need to talk,” he says. I run onto the field and head to the sidelines. We need to talk. This is never a good phrase to hear, on or off the field.

“What’s wrong?” I ask him. “You worried about the game or what? Dallas is pretty tough, but I think I can take them on. How’re we doing this, coach?”

I glance to my left and Landon is off to the side, giving a short interview to a local sports station. The image burns a fire inside me, so I force myself to look away immediately.

“I’m going to have you sit this one out,” the coach sighs and crosses his arms, standing in front of me. He sees me glancing at Landon and smirks a little. “That’s exactly the reason why.”

“Because of Landon?!” I blurt out, nearly laughing myself. “Come on, Coach. You’re not serious. Are you?”

“I’m very serious, son. And if you think you can just smile your way back on the field, you’re wrong about that,” he says, turning a bit angry. I back off with the smiling and listen intently. All I feel is that this is bullshit.

“Sorry, Coach,” I say, sucking up my pride. “I’m listening to you. I promise. I’ll follow whatever orders you give me. I know we’ll win this and go to the Super Bowl under your guidance.”

“Enough with the ass kissing, Jackson. I know you want to be on that field more than anything,” he says. The sound of the cheering, among the sounds of cleats hitting the field, always gets to me. I need to be out on that field, dammit! “But I think, for the team’s morale, I need to do this. It was wrong to keep you in the Arizona game. If it was any other player, it wouldn’t have happened.”

“Coach, that’s because I’m the best in the league,” I whisper, making sure none of the other players or media can hear me. Cameras are turned to me and I know they’re saying shit on the Sports Network about how I’m getting talked down to about my past behavior. I can just see Fiona’s reaction. The hearts in her eyes are probably fading as I speak.

“You need me in this game, Coach. The players need me. This game is huge. We need to win this if we want to go to the Championships,” I plead to him. I’m practically begging at this point. If the coach wants me to drop to my knees, I’ll do it. I swear.

“The players may need your ball playing, but they sure as hell don’t want to be around you right now,” he says. “Look, I heard all about the little incident at the bar. I know you tried to swing at Landon.”

This time, I throw my helmet down on the ground. I can’t stand for this bullshit. I can’t sit here and listen to the coach spit lies. I know it’s not his fault. I know Landon, or one of his goons, probably told the coach that I swung at him, but it’s not true. He swung at me, remember?

“He swung at me,” I protest. “Ask Loke, coach. I’ve been good since that practice.”

“I don’t want to hear it, son. Something happened at that bar. I’ve heard multiple accounts that you went nuts in there. Who am I supposed to believe? You? Or the other 5 people that don’t corroborate your story?”

“Respectfully, this is bullshit!” I yell out, throwing my hands up into the air. All the cameras are on me now and I know I’ve made a big mistake.

“Get the hell off my field,” the coach says.

“Are you kidding me?” I scream back at him. “This is bullshit! It’s utter bullshit!” I turn to my right and find Landon smiling on the bench, just looking at this go down.

“Fuck you, Landon! I know what you’re up to,” I scream at him. Security’s already on the sidelines to escort me off the field and I’m fucking pissed. It takes all of my energy not to swing at the one guy who grabs my arm to lead me out. “Don’t touch me,” I hiss at him, but he just pushes me hard into the catacombs of the arena.

* * *

In the center of the arena, everything is quiet and muffled. The filtered sounds of cleats echo on the ceiling above me, as someone makes a play for the highlights reel on the field.

Right now, it all hits home for me. I start to remember something back in high school. During one of our big games, I threw a punch at an opposing player. This hardly happened back then. If it did, you better believe you’d be sent to the Principal’s office to face expulsion. At least, that’s what they told you happened to everyone.

Instead, nothing happened to me. I remember it like it was yesterday. There were the sounds of kazoos and wacky horns being blown for all the players, the stomping of the crowd’s feet, and the sounds of helmets bashing into one another, all in the name of football. That really lured me in and the next day, I got the offer to join a really great college team. They told me “Son, you could make it to the pros with your talent.”

And I did. I made it. And now I’m standing here, in no-man’s land, underneath the arena. I start pacing and the guards simply walk away. “Go home,” one of the guys says to me. “It’ll work out by the Super Bowl.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” I tell them both. “I’ll get on out of here.”

They turn away from me and I walk in the direction of the exit. I circle around the building and come back through a side entrance. Of course, they let me in. Most of the staff has no idea what goes on during the game, so they move aside within seconds. I come back to the entrance of the field, but I don’t walk on.

I just watch. If I can’t play the damn game, I need to at least watch it from the sidelines. I deserve that much, right? My eyes meet Landon’s back and I target him. “You bastard,” I mutter under my breath. It’s times like these that make me lose my cool.

He’s sitting on the benches, laughing his ass of. But that smirk can’t last long. Once he’s sent onto the field, all hell breaks loose. Dallas seems to have made a comeback while I was gone. While we were neck and neck, we’re now losing by two touchdowns. I can see my coach’s face, turn bright as a tomato. I know a lot about the guy, and I can tell he’s pissed.

“Looks like you made the wrong choice,” I whisper.

Landon lives up to his name, Brickwall. He stands his ground and, I have to say, he does it really well. The defensive line is unable to shake him, letting the rest of our team through and the ball is ours. The coach’s face turns to a normal-looking color and everything is okay again.

I turn and walk off the field. I’ve seen all I needed to see. At this point, I know my role. I’m the black sheep. I’ve always been the black sheep. When I made it to the pros, I realized I could go above and beyond what was considered “normal.” Now, I think it’s time to realize that my crown has been thrown into the wind. Landon’s won, and I’ve given up.

Fiona

“Okay, so you were kicked out of the game for talking back to the coach. Big deal,” I tell Jackson, who’s curled up in my bed with me, acting as the bigger spoon.

“I’m just over all of the bullshit now,” he says. “I just want to play the damn game.”

“At least your team won the damn game. I don’t know what coach Stern was thinking, but he was really being ballsy by throwing you off the field,” I try and reassure him. It’s all I can do, really. Normally, I’d be pissed. But there’s a new side to me now. I have to back him up. And I will, until he really fucks up.

“Yeah, that’s what my manager told me,” he says. “You know, I’m starting to get the feeling that you all are just trying to make me feel better. It’s like I’m a sheep and I’m being driven to the slaughter. Is my career done or something? Tell me the truth, dammit.”

“Your career is far from being done,” I say, glancing at the small tuft of hair on his chest. I run my hand over his tight, muscular flesh and let my head rest on him. I stare at the fan and continue speaking. “Part of me wonders whether or not you should just continue the old you again.” I say those words, but I don’t mean it.

“You mean getting into fights? Fucking everything up for the league? You honestly want me to try that again?” The way he asks me makes me believe he’s being completely serious.

“Hell no. That would be career suicide,” I quickly reply back. “I just wish I knew what was going on. Everything just seems so weird. Like, how did all this drama even happen?” I already know the answer: me. It’s times like these that I wonder if me coming up here was the worst thing that could have ever happened. If I hadn’t, maybe Jackson would be doing just fine. Maybe it was me who ruined his whole trajectory. I really don’t know at this point.

I sigh. “Look, you’ll be fine. Have you talked to Coach Stern yet?”

“Yeah, I have,” he says, looking down at my hair. He runs his fingers through the wavy strands and breathes carefully. “He’s letting me play the Bowl. He has to, really. Without me, I really think we might lose. We’re playing the reigning champs, for Christ’s sake.”

Together, I feel like we’ve found our place. When I’m in bed with him, I feel as if everything is centered. I feel at peace. All of the bullshit that surrounds us in the outside world comes to a grinding halt. I turn around and throw my arms around his waist.

“Well, I believe in you,” I smile and let my head trail down to his lap. “And I want to show you just how much I believe in you.”

My hand grabs at the elastic of his basketball shorts, and I slowly pull them down, revealing his thick cock. “Fiona…” he whispers, but his protests fall very short.

“Shut up,” I whisper. “You deserve it, and you know it.” I slide my tongue over his cock, until it grows firm and powerful looking. My lips slowly slide over his flesh and he tilts his head back and nearly cries out with pleasure.

“Jesus, you’re too much,” he says. “I think you might be everything a guy wants and more.”

I love pleasing him. I love devoting myself to the act that’ll give him the most pleasure. Why? Because I know he’ll do the same for me. I have faith in him, even if it’s a bad idea.

He runs his hands over my shoulders, parting my long hair, and letting his fingers drag over my spine. When his palm reaches my ass, he squeezes down hard and smacks it. “Okay, now you’re making me really horny,” I tell him as my mouth slides back.

“That’s exactly what I wanted,” he says, with a sadistic smile on his face. I reach up and bite his bottom lip and he darts back. “Ow,” he winces and then smiles again. I spread my legs for him as he recovers.

“You want to play rough, baby?” He leans over me and grabs my cheeks, squeezing slightly.

“Yes,” I tell him. “The rougher, the better.”

He forces my legs open more, hands sliding down my upper thighs. He meets my pussy and slides three fingers inside me, curling them upwards, pressing against my g-spot and driving them in and out. My back instantly arches back as I feel the anticipation climbing.

He spreads my wetness over his cock. This, more than anything, turns me on. “Give it to me,” I whisper, as he mounts me. He slides his cock inside of me and upon first penetration, his mouth falls open.

“Yes, cum for me, baby. You deserve it. You’ve had such a rough day,” I coo at him. I want to make him feel great this time. I want to be everything he’s ever dreamed of having.

Hell, what is happening to me? I used to be such an independent soul. Now I’m begging him to cum for me?

I look up at his chiseled jaw, his thick and handsome hair, the perfect “V” on his pelvis, and I think to myself, oh yeah. That’s why. He’s impeccable.

“I want to cum right as you do, baby,” he says, leaning over and kissing me. His tongue practically falls to the back of my throat. It’s not long before his one hand is cupped against my breast, while the other is firmly gripping my hair.

“Yes,” I scream. “Harder. Deeper. This is your pussy.” He pounds me into literal oblivion. Everything seems to disappear slowly. Boom! My ears pop and a sweat begins to form on my forehead and chest. My eyes grow shaky and I lose my grip. I’m all his and can’t say a word.

Within seconds, I’m fully cumming. I’m losing myself and every few seconds, I can tell he’s about to as well. With a strained expression and glazed look, he cums inside me, while kissing me the whole time.

“If I keep doing this,” he says, “I’ll die. I’ll fucking die, I know it.” We both break out into heavy laughter.

“I like being around you,” he finally says, after our laughter dies down. “I don’t get why. I mean, you’re really annoying and want me to settle down, which I hate.”

“Shut up.” I push him away, jokingly. “You know I’m the best woman in the world. That’s why you stick with me.”

“No, it’s because you have the best pussy in the world, baby. I could care less about all the other stuff,” he says, laughing as I mess up his hair.

“Come on!” he screams. “I got a press conference tomorrow, remember?”

“Ugh, that’s right,” I remember. “About the stupid bar fight. There still hasn’t been any video footage. I think it’ll be a really easy conference. You won’t have to defend yourself all that much.”

“Yeah, I guess,” he says. “I’m just getting tired. You know?”

“Well, whatever you do, don’t get too tired on me. You’ve got one more game left. Just hold out and play your best. Then you have some time to relax,” I say, jumping onto his lap and straddling him. His cock is already hard again. “It looks like you aren’t that tired.”

“That’s exactly my point,” he exclaims. “I just want to stay in bed with you. Am I crazy? Am I losing my damn mind?”

“Yes, you are in fact crazy,” I laugh, kissing down on his chest. “You can’t possibly like me that much.”

“What’re you talking about?” he asks me. “I think about you night and day. I’m bored of everything else. I just want to lay right here for the rest of my pitiful existence.”

I look down awkwardly, feeling those good old emotions start to creep in again. “You probably shouldn’t,” I tell him. It’s the truth. “You’ve got a lot of training to do before the big game. You better get at it.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he says. “You’re getting a little ahead of yourself, don’t you think? I mean, everything’s going to work out in the end, I think.”

“Yeah, sure,” I tell him, pushing myself off his lap. I walk to the bathroom and run the shower. I step in after the water turns warm.

Jackson walks in after me and throws his arms up slightly. “What’s wrong? Why are you avoiding me all of the sudden?” he asks.

I turn the water up hotter and feel his towering body standing directly behind me. His hands wrap around my waist and I feel my eyes fall to the tiles below me. “Nothing’s wrong,” I lie. “I’m fine.”

What am I supposed to tell him? That I still have a huge hang-up about him? That I’m still worried he’ll leave me once he wins this Super Bowl. I keep telling myself that this is forever, but what will happen if it’s not? I don’t even want to think about what I would do then.

“You’re not fine,” he chuckles awkwardly. “Fiona, I know you. We may have been away from each other for a decade, but I still know when something’s wrong.”

“I don’t know,” I sigh, unable to look him in the eyes. “I guess I’m just scared. I mean, aren’t you?”

“I’ll win the game. I’m not too scared about it,” he says, shaking his head.

“No, not the dumb game, Jackson. Everything else. You know? Me. You. This relationship?” My breath is steady and my heart, for once, isn’t hammering against my ribcage. No, it’s my mind that’s going crazy now. I can’t shake the feeling of uncertain doom. What if this all ends in a fiery car wreck? No, not literally. I get out of the shower and start toweling off, but he’s not far behind.

“Baby.” He kisses my cheek and with his index finger moves my chin towards him. He looks into my eyes and when I try to look away, he gets irritated. “Come on. Everything is going to work out. Jeez, first I worry and then you do. It’s like a chain reaction.”

“Well, there’s a lot going on right now.” I make a weird face and look away again. “And you have your mind on the game, which I don’t blame you for. Still, I feel like maybe this will change. Like, what’s going to happen after the Super Bowl? You’re going to get traded and you’ll have to do a gazillion commercials, and by the end of your break, you’ll be in like China or somewhere a million miles away, and—”

“Fiona, calm down!” he says, placing his hands over my shoulders. He starts to massage me and, fuck, it feels damn good. I hate it when men do this sort of thing. All the blame and grievances go right out the window. I guess that’s a good thing.

“I’m going to win this game,” he says, turning very serious. “But not at the expense of you. I’ve learned my lesson. Christ, I was like 18 then. This is my job now, not some dream. I’ve achieved that already. After I win, we’re going to go away with each other. Hell, we could go anywhere. Where do you want to go? China? Done. I’m taking you to China.”

“I don’t want to go to China,” I tell him. “That’s not what I was trying to say, crazy man.”

He pounces on me and begins tickling my brains out. “We can go anywhere!” he bellows. “The choices are endless.”

I jump out of his grasp, unable to breathe or bring my smile back to a grimace. “I’m being a baby, dammit,” I tell him. “But my fears aren’t stupid! They make sense and you know it. And I want to go to Disneyland with you. Can we do that?”

“I think there’s a Disneyland in China…” he mutters, trying not to laugh.

“Stop, Jackson.” I grab my jeans and slide them over my butt. He makes a sad face. “Well, that’s what you get for acting like a child. The butt goes away.”

“Awful. Just dreadful,” he says. “Well, I hear you. That’s all I can say, right? I’m on your side. Things can go bad in every relationship. It’s part of the risk of being with someone else. If you still don’t trust me, I understand. But I’m still going to keep fighting for you.”

“I like that,” I tell him. “Probably too much.”

“Good. ‘Cause I’m not going anywhere,” he says.

And he actually doesn’t go anywhere. Tonight, he sleeps in my bed again.

This time, I’m the big spoon.

Jackson

I never want to leave that bed again. I never want to leave her body, her touch, her fiery eyes again. It’s starting to get out of control. Yet, she doesn’t believe me.

When I leave her house for the first time in days, it’s only because I have to train for the game. Even then, I still don’t see the point. Fuck training. Fuck football. And fuck Landon. Yeah, I said it. The whole thing is a circus that’s gotten too out of hand.

All I think about is her. Even right now, I’m texting her. What are you wearing?

Nothing. My ass is totally, one hundred percent, bare. Why? Do you miss it? Of course she gives me a reply that gets me half-hard in an instant. That’s what this girl does to me.

God yes, I reply back. I do a set of 18 bench presses and place the bar behind me. Normally, this was a favorite past time for Landon and me. It was that, and getting strippers, while downing copious amounts of alcohol. Those days were fun and all, but it’s time to grow up. I’m 28. Fiona is the biggest wake-up call in the world.

So why can’t I just admit what I know to be true: that I love her? Fuck, I love her more than I’ve ever loved anything in my whole entire life. When I look at her lips, I see heaven. When I look at the curves on her body, I’m just grateful she’s back in my life. I’ve missed the way she used to look at me, and now I have it again.

I never wanted to admit it, but I thought about her constantly after I left for college. I used to sit in my frat house and dream about her. What would my life be like if I kept her in it? Well, I’ve been given my second chance and I can’t blow it now.

Tell me how much you’ve missed this butt, she texts. I can just see her, standing naked in her bathroom. In my imagination, her tits are hanging free, ass pressed against the couch cushion. It takes a lot for me not to run into the nearest bathroom and jerk off to the thought of it.

I bet it’s so smooth, I text back. I want to kiss it all over. I want to devour you. I need that pussy, more than you know.

I thought we were talking about my ass, she replies with a red emoji face. Uh oh, I’ve angered the woman now.

Can’t a man worship both? I ask her.

So you worship me now? I guess I should feel good about that, huh? she replies.

I’m glued to my phone. I’m obsessed with seeing her text me back. Any word I can get from her feels amazing, so when I see those three dots appear in the text message box, I feel my heart actually skip a beat.

Woman, do not test me, I type out. I’ll fall to my knees for you any day.

* * *

I do the Sports Network show. Everything goes according to plan. “Did you hit him?” the host, Steven Cornish, asks me. I take a deep breath and try not to lose my cool. This is national television we’re talking about, and I know the world at this point is very weary of me.

“No,” I calmly state. “I did not. And it’s a little shocking that there’s so much talk about this. Me and Landon are perfectly fine. We’re friends and teammates. Sometimes things get a little heated, but I would never sock the guy.”

It’s a lie, of course, but I go through with it. There’s no footage, nothing being held over my head. As far as I know, he’s forgotten all about that one incident. What I should tell Steven is that he’s being a huge baby. All over my girl. It’s some weird, deep-seated resentment. Fuck it.

“So, you’re denying the multiple eye-witness accounts?” he grills.

I laugh and try and look as charming as possible. “What eye-witness accounts?” I ask him, pausing for several seconds. “Seriously, give me one. That’s right, they’re all players for the Black Wings, aren’t they?”

“Well, yes. Actually, they are,” he says. His right eyebrow rises with curiosity. “Don’t tell me this is some kind of conspiracy?”

“I never said that. All I’m saying is that some dudes like to talk some crap. It doesn’t mean it’s all true, does it?” I smile and sit back. The rest of the show goes at about the same pace. By the time it’s over, I feel bored and depleted.

You did great. Sorry about the hassle, Fiona texts me right after. I text back some heart-eyed emoji and head to my workout.

When I get to the gym, I see him. Landon. That son of a bitch. I try not to give him the time of day. Only, I’m forced to walk right by him since the weights are in the backside of the gym.

He nods his head at me as I pass by and I can just feel the tension in the room. Some of the guys working out look right at me, as if I’m going to move. “What’s up?” he asks me.

“Just preparing for the big game,” I tell him.

“Oh, they’re letting you play that? I didn’t think they let people like you onto the field,” he laughs. One of his buddies, some trainer from California pats his shoulder and laughs with him.

Ignore him, I keep telling myself. He wants you to rile you up as much as possible.

“What’s the matter, man? You’ve really lost your edge, huh,” he says, after I sit down and grab some weights. I try my best to ignore his words, but he won’t stop and I need to train before the game next week.

“I haven’t lost shit,” I say. “I’m just getting better and better.”

“Better?” he laughs. “Is that what your mom said to you in Arizona? Shit, man. You’re getting too old. You’ve traded in your old self to settle down, haven’t you?”

“Fuck off, Landon,” I mutter under my breath. I do a rep of 24 squats and feel the burn rise in my hamstrings.

“What was that?” he asks me, dropping his weights on the ground. His trainer steps aside as Landon comes up to me. We’re standing face to face now and I feel my blood begin to fucking boil.

“Don’t test me,” I warn him. But, like I knew he would, he pushes on my chest. I don’t move. I stand straight and tall. I’m not going to take his shit anymore. If he wants a fight, I’ll give him a fight.

“Pussy,” he practically spits the words at me. It’s strong, unlike him. Tough guys like me don’t need words to back them up. My actions speak much louder. “You’ve become a shell of your old self. Funny thing is, it’s all for some PR bitch. Some whore from Arizona. I can’t believe it. I really can’t.”

That gets to me. You can talk shit to me all you want, but bring my girl into this and all hell is going to break loose. “Fiona is a fucking queen. As for you… you’re nothing,” I hiss at him. “You hear me? Nothing. You’re an offensive guard. They’ll cycle you through the rotation in about 3 years, tops. Then, you’ll be forced to settle down. I know it’s your biggest fear, so soak up the sun while you can. You’re living through your golden days, boy.”

I add the “boy” at the end for good measure. I’m not going to be the one to back down this time. No, this time, I’m standing my ground. I can just picture the look on Fiona’s face right now. If she were here, it would be pure horror, mixed with a massive migraine.

Yeah, this isn’t the way to go. But as I said earlier, fuck it. I’m over being set aside. I carried this team to victory, over and over again. It’s about time I at least get left alone. It’s time to prove, once and for all, that Landon isn’t worth jack shit.

He stands closer to me, chest touching mine now. There’s only two options right now. Either he kisses me, or he takes the first shot. Though the first option makes me laugh a little inside, I’m willing to bet on the latter.

“Say it again,” he whispers. “I dare you.”

“Your breath is disgusting,” I laugh. “But, sure. I’ll tell you again. You’re small. You’re worthless. And it’s just a fucking game. Honestly, you need to settle down.” I turn around and smile at the people watching us. They give a laugh, which seems to set him off.

Landon doesn’t waste a beat. As soon as I turn my head back around, I see his knuckles come straight at my face. Crack, his fist comes barreling at me, pounding against my jaw. I feel it nearly dislocate. The pain shoots throughout my head, but I instantly shake it off.

Meanwhile, there’s an alarm going off in my head. This is terrible. Abort, abort, abort now! But of course, I can’t back out of a fight once I’m in it. It’s not in my nature. My nature is to destroy the very thing threatening my girl and me.

His fist reconnects with my nose the second time, and I go falling like a ton of bricks. I never start out fighting that strong. Better to weaken the guy a little first, right? I fall across a bed of weights and feel the blow at my core. It hurts, but I manage to pick myself back up.

At this point, everyone and their mom has their phones out. They’re recording the whole thing, but I’m not going to stop now. They’ve already got the footage of him, swinging at me, of me falling across those damn weights, so they better at least have some footage of me defending myself.

I run at Landon and tackle him. His back smashes into the mirror across from the weights. The glass cracks and falls to the floor with both of us. I can feel the shards pressing against my skin, but I can’t bother with that right now. I manage to hold him down. I don’t take any chances. I start swinging.

For the life of me, I can’t keep him down. One punch at his face sends his head back against the floor. Another, and it seems to knock him out. Only, he’s back within a few seconds. Finally, he knocks me in the gut and I’m forced to roll off him.

He jumps on top of me and swings at least three times against my temple. My whole vision gets blurry. I can’t really see too well and I feel like I’m on the verge of blacking out. Shit, who knows? Maybe he’s really done me in.

I manage to get one clean shot at his nose again and I hear a loud snapping noise. When he falls off of me onto the floor, I know I’ve broken it. Blood falls from his face, like a mudslide. He screams and punches at the floor, a futile attempt at redirecting the pain elsewhere.

I pick my aching body up and manage to get a short smile onto my face. “You’ve met your match, son,” I say to him, wiping his blood from my fist. My face aches like hell and my body is sore all over. “Alright, time to go home. There’s nothing to see here anymore,” I tell everyone.

I walk out the building into the bright sunlight. I guess my workout has ended early. Hell, who knows if they’ll play me in the Bowl now. I always imagined myself holding that trophy, or running and pouring ice cold water on my coach’s back. It’s those traditions you dream about continuing. But now there’s all this pressure, and rules, and players who want to fuck up my career out of jealousy.

Now, I’ve got a girl a few blocks from here, most likely on the Internet. She’s probably watching the fight go down. Maybe it was even shared live. It’s a fucked up world we live in these days. All I know is that I’m done for. Every way I try and spin it, it’s bad fucking news. Either way, the love of my life is going to hate my guts.

I leave my car at the gym and instead, I walk taking the long way home.

Fiona

Don’t talk to me ever again. I write the words out on my phone and hit send. Within seconds, my phone starts to vibrate erratically. It’s Jackson and he wants to talk on the phone.

I hit the red deny button, but he calls back even faster this time. Another quick deny just shows his tenacity. “Fine,” I answer the phone. “What do you want, Jackson? I don’t want to talk to you. Seriously, just leave me alone.”

“It wasn’t all my fault,” he begins to beg. “He took the first swing, Fiona. Look, the video shows that. Doesn’t it?”

“I’ve heard this same excuse a million different ways. I know how this goes. You apologize profusely, until everyone feels sorry for you. Then, you act good for a few weeks, but eventually you go back to the same old crap,” I say, feeling exhausted. I have a deadline for another player due in a week and I just want the time to stare at my computer screen, and do the work that I need to do. “I’m not getting played anymore. Let this one go, Jackson.”

“Baby, I—” I cut him off before he can say whatever it is he’s about to say.

“Baby? Come on, those days are over,” I say, taking another deep breath. I need to calm down before I have a breakdown.

I know how this looks. I’m just the shrill woman who can’t deal with an arrogant, cocky man. That, I’m sure, is how Landon saw me in the first place. It’s not fair, but I can’t worry about how I look to some sports players. It’s my job to worry about how they look. And yeah, I’m pretty pissed that Jackson couldn’t go one week without slamming his fist across his best friend’s nose.

“Are you serious?” he asks into the receiver. It’s quiet where he is and I can tell he wants me to say that this was all a joke, that maybe I’ll let this one slide. Only, I can’t. I think it’s about time. We had our fun and now it’s gotten too complicated. I’m not about to get fired over this crap.

“I’m serious, Jackson. And I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry I even came out to Portland. It wasn’t exactly my choice,” I mutter, holding my breath. Truth is, I want this to work out more than anything. But I’ve given him plenty of chances. He could have put in more of an effort, but he didn’t think it was a big enough deal. It makes me feel like I’m nothing to him.

“Fiona,” he whispers. “Let me come over, at least. I’ll cook you dinner. I’ll be on my best behavior. I promise you,” he says. I promise you. My doorbell rings. It’s Jennifer. She’s come over to help me with a new client’s interview. She understands all the crap I’ve been through.

“You’ve said those words plenty of times before, Jackson. Look, I’m sorry. I have to go.” I hang up the phone and walk up to the door. Tears push past my eyelids and fall down my cheeks. I wish I were stronger sometimes. I wish I didn’t feel these emotions all of the time. I wish I could just find a normal man who would do anything for me. Instead, I fall for all the bad guys in the world.

“No more Jackson?” Jennifer asks me as she walks inside my place.

“No more boyfriend,” I say solemnly. “Ugh. What even is my life right now?”

“Well, I’ve come bearing gifts,” she says, holding a bag of Mexican food, from the same restaurant I went to the other day. This makes me bawl. I grab the bag and just fall to my couch, tears streaming down.

“Oh my God,” she says, jumping back a little. Startled, she whispers “Are you okay, honey? Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” I cry. “You’re amazing. You’re the best friend a girl could ever ask for.”

“Okay…” She’s keeping her distance by grabbing some plates. She pours us a soda and I try and keep myself as composed as I can. “Here you go.” She hands me a plate of food.

“Did I make the right choice?” I ask her. Images flash in my head. Only, this time they’re different. Instead of sex, I keep thinking about all of the really big moments. I think about the nice restaurant he took me too, the curb we sat on together, and the night we admitted to each other that there was something more between us.

Now, there’s none of that. “Let’s weigh your options,” Jennifer says. “No more sex, no more expensive romantic dinners… although, you didn’t do that too many times, did you? Never mind, don’t answer that. No more, uh, rough sex, spontaneity, and no more hot, God he was so hot, Jackson. Damn, why are you asking me this? You know my stance on Jackson. Use him for his cock, over and over again, until you get bored. Then, throw him out.”

“Oh, God.” I start crying again. I stuff a pillow over my face.

“Well, are you bored yet?” she asks me.

I let the pillow fall back to the couch and I give her a blank stare. “Okay, so that answers that. You aren’t bored yet. Got it,” she says, awkwardly. “I’m just messing around when I shouldn’t be. You’re clearly hurt and I want to be here for you. I’m really sorry sweetie-pie. More than you know.”

“Jen, I’m a grown woman. I should be able to handle this type of stuff every now and then,” I pause and sigh, wiping more tears from my eyes. It’s like a never ending stream at this point. “It’s just different with him, though. Like, I was starting to really fall for him, you know?”

“I do, baby,” she rubs my back, tickling up my neck to my hairline. Baby. Everything just reminds me of him. I’m constantly reminded about our short time together. Those nights that felt so right, and so wrong at the same time. It was like we would escape together someday. I really fell… in love with him.

“But he was just some guy, you know? He’s an asshole,” she says. “All football players are. It just comes with the territory.” She fakes a smile.

“The thing is, I don’t think he is. Deep down, I think he’s probably a really good guy. He’s just misunderstood,” I tell her, turning on the TV. On the Sports Network, his image is shown a million times over. They should really try and rename the network to the Jackson Leeman station at this point.

“I’ve heard that one before.” She laughs at me. “Look at the TV right now. Look at that guy. He’s a maniac, right? Do you really want to end up with someone like that? I mean, really?”

I shrug and take a few bites of my taco. “I mean, at first glance, no. I don’t. But that’s what I’m saying. He was provoked. Landon has been trying to get him disqualified for weeks now,” I say.

“Well, it looks like he is succeeding,” she says.

“Yeah,” I sigh. “It’s not fair. I feel like if we met in a year from now, things would be better. It’s this damn Super Bowl. It makes people go crazy.”

“It’s more than that, honey,” she says, with a tinge of sarcasm. I don’t appreciate it.

“What if I loved him?” I ask, almost out of nowhere. “What if I envisioned a life with him? Kids, a house, a garden… you know, that sort of thing. Now all that is taken away from me.”

“Oh my God,” she says. Her voice rises like three keys up. “You loved him? Are you serious, Fiona?”

“I don’t know!” I exclaim, taking another bite from my taco. The tears have started to dry. I’m just feeling a tad bit embarrassed now. “I’m not saying I did, okay? I’m just asking you. What if I did?”

“Well, then I’d say you should fight for it,” she says, turning serious. “But I don’t know, Fiona. You’ve put your career on the line for him. I’d never do that shit for any guy, let alone some jock. It’s up to you though. This is your life. Remember that.”

So, do I love him? I can’t stop thinking about him, that’s for sure. I can’t stop thinking about our nights, his touch, and his lips. He made me feel so fucking good. He made me feel loved. So, do I love him? Well, I did. But now, I just don’t know. I have to think about bigger things than love, like my own trajectory.

While I struggle thinking about this, Jennifer has made her own whisky-cola combination and she’s drinking it down pretty fast. In thirty minutes, she’ll be drunk as a skunk. This is the woman I’m getting love advice from.

I feel my phone vibrate and I nearly scream from the stress of everything. “I swear, Jackson won’t stop texting me,” I say. “It’s beyond annoying.”

“That’s because he ain’t getting no pussy no more,” she says, looking at her phone.

I grab mine and glare at the screen. It’s Joseph. Fuck. I noticed your little video. Care to explain?

I sink into the couch cushion and Jennifer knows something is wrong. “Uh oh,” she says. “Spill it. What’s happened now?”

“Nothing,” I groan. “It’s just my boss. He just saw the video.”

“You know, for a head position at a PR firm, he doesn’t find out about things that quickly. Does he?” she jokes.

I ignore her and think of something to text him back with. I tell him the truth, that Jackson is a total asshole. I use different wordage, obviously. Look, if you want, you can deal with the mess that is Jackson Leeman. I’ve done everything that I can. He won’t listen to me. Find another agent if you need to. You have until today to tell me your plans.

My breathing quickens and my pulse seems to go right along with it. This is fucked, but for once, I’m sticking up for myself. A smile actually breaks out onto my face.

“What are you so happy about now? You’re like a rollercoaster of emotions right now,” she says. “I’m concerned, Fiona.”

“I just gave my boss an ultimatum,” I laugh. “Never done that before. It feels kind of… nice.”

“Oh, boy. This is where it starts. The downfall of Fiona Breckinridge’s life.” She rolls her eyes. “Be careful, woman.”

Jackson

It just all turns to shit, doesn’t it? At the end of the day, after all the cameras stop rolling, after all the fans put away their autograph pens, and much after the lights dim in the arena, what is left? I can answer that with one word: me. Only, that’s not as descriptive.

Picture this: a man in his prime, holding all the glory in the palm of his hands. Picture him in his empty mansion, without anyone left. There’s only him and the work he’s done. He’s buried in bank account statements, car payments, and the alcohol that keeps him going. There’s no wife. There’s no kids. There’s only him. And then, poof! It’s all gone.

I got drunk the night after the big fight. I couldn’t help it. I needed something to ease the pain and the one thing I truly wanted was missing from my life. Gone forever, just like everything else good. So, I got drunk by myself, staring at the blue pool.

I had a big, long discussion with myself. Was this what I wanted? Did I care that much about the game? By the end of it, I realized something. Hell no. This is not what I care about. It’s Fiona that I want more than anything. I don’t give a shit about the other stuff anymore. If I can’t have her, none of it is worth it.

I drain the pool. I call my realtor. “Put the house on the market. Yeah, I know. I’m drunk. Just do what I say, dammit.” I hang up the phone and fall asleep.

Now, it’s morning. You’d think my mind has changed, but it remarkably hasn’t. I still know what I want and need. It’s Fiona.

I call the Sports Network to issue a statement. “It’s all my fault. I admit to everything. But I will say one thing in my defense. Landon has been after me ever since I fell in love with one beautiful girl. I used to be the partying lunatic everyone loved. Now, according to him, I’ve lost my mind by trying to clean up my act. I just want to be a better man. So yeah, I hit the guy because he hit me first. Plain and simple. If the league wants me out, then I’ll have to comply. Dallas was a fun last game. Everything has to end sooner or later, right? So be it. Farewell, football fans.” It’s not the best statement in the world, but it does the trick. I’ve always spoken my mind. I’m not about to stop now.

I don’t want to leave the game behind, but I want the world to know my side of things. I want them to know that I was willing to put it all on the line for Fiona. Really, I just want her to know how I feel and how I really am, deep inside.

Even when I’m awake and sober, I look at these empty hallways of my house and feel a pit of despair forming inside of me. This is not the life I was after. I was after something much bigger. Deep down, I wanted love.

I grab a pen and paper. A simple email or text message won’t work for me this time. I look at the white, blank page and start writing. Words never suited me before, but I’m turning a new leaf. This is day one of my new life.

Fiona, I’m selling the house. I realize that’s not the best way to start a heartfelt letter, but I think you’d want to know that. I’m done with this life. I’m done playing the old Jackson Leeman. He was a character I thought I had to continue being. Turns out, I don’t. The other day was a wake-up call for me. I know you probably don’t believe me. Hell, I wouldn’t believe me either. Still, it’s the truth. I’m done being an asshole. So what? My father was a piece of shit. He didn’t raise me right. That doesn’t make me able to do or say whatever I want. If I continue down this path of self-righteousness, I’ll eventually turn into him. I don’t want that. I want you. I want sunshine. I want love. Yeah, I said it. Love. I love you, Fiona Breckinridge. I can’t stop it from happening. It’s just a fact. Like the rain that falls against the trees in springtime. It just had to be, right? So is my love for you. Take it or leave it. I want a house, children, to wake up and cook you breakfast while you’re still asleep. I want to kiss you when you’re 70 and we’re both old. Most of all, I want to watch life unfold with you, Fiona. You probably hate me right now, but I hope someday you can learn to forgive me. Love is all I’ll ever fight for now,

~Jackson.

I drop the pen and throw the piece of paper in an envelope. I don’t bother to edit it. Everything I said in that letter was the truth. I just hope she believes me. Every second, I’m looking down at my phone, as if somehow she’ll realize just how important she really is to me. Nothing happens and my day turns stagnant.

I don’t sit around to watch the sun go down or anything. I drop the letter off in her mailbox and head to an antique shop. There’s more to be done. I need to mend everything. I need to make things right.

I walk through a glass door and hear the bell ring above me. The smell of old dust, wood, and perfume fills the store. “Howdy! What can I do for you?” An old man at the counter smiles at me. “Say, aren’t you that sports player who keeps getting into all that trouble?”

“I am,” I laugh. “But I’m starting over. Today is day one.”

He pats my shoulder and laughs a little. “That’s alright. We all get in a little trouble every once in a while,” he says. His hair is erratic and his glasses keep falling off. “You came in here looking for a ring didn’t you?”

“How the hell did you know that?” I ask him, taken aback. It’s true. I came here to find a ring because I’m going to lay down my life and ask her to marry me. There ain’t nothing in the world that can stop me now. I feel, strangely, exhilarated.

“Ha! I’ve been in this business for over 35 years. I know when a man is in love. And boy, you’re spiraling. Follow me,” he says, motioning for me to come with him to the backside of the store.

We walk through a series of halls, until we reach a small room. “This is normally off limits to customers. But, I’ll make an exception. Your situation seems dire enough,” he whispers.

He unlocks the door and we walk into a room full of boxes. “Let’s see here,” he mumbles to himself, digging through a set of drawers. “Aha!” Finally, he grabs a small black ring box.

When he opens it, I nearly fall over. “We’ve had this for about a month. I didn’t have the heart to put it in the display case. It’s just too beautiful.” He smiles, staring wide-eyed with me at the diamonds.

“It’s gorgeous,” I whisper. “Like Fiona.”

“Any girl would be honored to be gifted such a ring,” he says. “But this one is obviously special. Is this Fiona woman worth it to you? Better yet, will you serve her as her husband well?”

“Sir, I’ll gladly lay down my life for her if I have to. She’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. I can’t stop thinking about her. I’m thinking about quitting football for her, to be honest. I put my house on the market last night because I can’t stand to live in a big house alone anymore. I can’t stand the life I’ve made for myself,” I admit, probably telling too much too fast.

The old man simply nods his head. “Yes, I understand,” he says. “I was in your position once. Young and in love, my wife rejected me over and over again, over the course of two full years. Back then, I was set to go back to the Army. Finally, I decided to drop everything for her. I realized that she was the most important thing in this world, not a few purple hearts!” He chuckles to himself and nods again. “Imagine if I had gone back there. I could have ended up killed, or killing someone else!”

Am I dreaming? Is this man really in front of me? It’s like he’s an angel, sent to lead me in the right direction. He hands me the box. “Take it. It’s your last chance.”

I buy it on the spot. Thirty grand. Either he’s an angel or he’s a very good con man. Either way, I don’t care. She deserves it. It’s utterly perfect. A gorgeous ring for a gorgeous woman.

I walk out of the antique shop, feeling new and refreshed. There’s another place on my list that I have to check off. This is where I need to start being careful. I head to Landon’s house.

* * *

With a hard knock on the door, I take a step back. The door creaks open and he’s standing in front of me with a broken nose and black eye. I probably don’t look much better. “Get off my property,” he says, shutting the door in my face.

I knock again and wait. Nothing. I ring the doorbell and knock a third time. This time, he opens it violently. “I said, get the fuck off my property. I’m not your ‘brother’ anymore. So just leave, alright?” He doesn’t slam the door. Instead, he actually waits for me to speak.

“Wait,” I tell him. “Just hear me out. I came to apologize.” The word “apologize” stings as it leaves my mouth. There’s nothing I hate more than apologizing for things I don’t think are my fault. Still, it’s what needs to be done this time. I have to bow in humility. Well, it’s either that, or I pummel the guy. I could just go that route…

“Apologize? For what? It’s like you’ve been saying all along, right? I hit you first,” he says, waiting for me to say the wrong thing.

“I messed up the dynamic between us. I should have told you what was happening. I shouldn’t have brought it onto the field,” I tell him. “If you want me to leave, I’ll leave. But know that I wanted to make things right before the big game.”

“They probably won’t let you play. You know that?” he asks, smiling a little. I know his game. He’s trying to rile me up, but it won’t work this time. I’m over it all.

“So be it. It was a dream of mine to play, but there’s more important things in life.” I sigh, shaking my head.

“Fine. Come in.” He turns and walks to his living room. When he sits down, he reaches over to the small mini bar and pulls out two beers. He tosses me one and cracks open his. I do the same and take a sip.

“You really believe all that good-natured crap you’ve been spewing?” he asks me. His nose looks bad, like I broke it in multiple places or something. How good-natured was my punch?

“It’s not exactly about being good-natured. It’s about standing for what I believe to be true,” I tell him. “Besides, the only time it affected my game was when I got sick. Shit, I think our fighting affected us the most.”

“I guess it did, huh?” He laughs and looks out the window for a second. “You know, I actually wanted you dead.”

“Yeah, I figured. I probably had similar thoughts,” I say. “Anyway, Fiona dumped my ass, so you’ll be happy to know that she’s basically out of my life.”

He shrugs and chugs the rest of his beer, crunching the can in his hand. “Fuck it,” he says. “I don’t care what you do. I was just jealous, man. I missed our hangouts. I missed those days when Misty would come over with some friends, and we’d get all loaded up and have fun. I guess we’re getting older, though. Can’t party forever.”

“We can party until we’re 80 years old. Only, someday I’m going to have a wife. I assume you will too. We’ll have to party in different ways, I guess,” I tell him, standing up and finishing my beer. “Look man, she broke my heart. That’s the truth. But I’m aiming to get her back. The reason I came here is to say that I’m done fighting with you. I want to be cool again. Can we make up?”

“Shit.” He sighs. “I hate this emotional bullshit. You know that.”

“I do,” I laugh. “But it’s happening whether you like it or not, so take it or leave it.”

After a few seconds of biting his tongue, he reaches out his hand. I grab it and shake it. “I’m sorry,” I tell him. “Are we cool?”

“We’re cool, man,” he says. “But, at the end of the day, I’m the sorry one. I was an asshole. I guess that’s why you shattered my nose, huh?”

“Yeah, that wasn’t exactly planned. Sorry about that, brother.” I also bite my tongue.

I walk toward the door and take a deep breath. “Go get her,” he tells me. “Make her yours.”

“I’ve done what I can for now,” I say. “Right now we have to make sure we can play this game. You ready to sit down with the league? It’s going to be rough.”

“Shit, man. I’m always ready to fight for my right to play,” he says. “Let’s do it.”

I phone up coach Scott Stern, saying, “Coach, it’s Jackson and Landon. We’ve managed to put everything behind us. We want to talk.”

Fiona

Without Jackson, my days are much different. There’s a lot of silence, work, and then… Jennifer. It’s not exactly the best situation and I start to miss my home in Los Angeles. All those parties, friends, the beach… Portland is definitely wearing on me.

The next day, I don’t do any work. I turn on the Sports Network to see the newest headlines about Jackson, since he seems to dominate the airwaves because of his handful of fights this year. I don’t know why I keep flooding my mind with more images of him. I keep telling myself, “This is your job. You have to keep yourself updated on the players you work with.”

But it’s not that simple anymore. I talked to Joseph last night and he heard me out. “Jackson is no longer your client,” he told me. “You have a week to leave your rental home and head back to LA, where you’ll resume working for your old clients.” All I could do was thank him.

I didn’t know what all that would entail. I didn’t know I would still have leftover feelings for Jackson. So when Joseph gave me the ultimatum of leaving in a week, it left me feeling shell-shocked. Today, however, I’m just numb.

On the television, he’s the talk of the sports world. A newscaster levels a serious gaze at the camera. “Is this how we want our sports stars to behave? I mean, really, folks…”

But then, seemingly out of nowhere, the newscaster stops talking to share a phone call that was recorded earlier. It’s from Jackson and it’s an explanation about the fight at the gym. I hear the words that make me pause. “…I fell in love with one beautiful girl…” and I’m taken aback. Love? Did he really just use that word?

I turn off the TV, walking out to grab the mail that was delivered earlier. I’m shocked. I don’t know how to feel. Of course, I felt similar about everything. But that fight was the last straw. I can’t keep dealing with his shit forever. He’s an adult. He should learn to channel that energy onto the field.

When I open the mailbox, I see it. It’s a handwritten letter and I can tell just by looking at it that it’s from Jackson. I rip it open, falling to the grassy lawn of my front yard. I examine the contents and feel my body grow tense. He’s never gone out of his way to do something like this before. I half-expected him to go back to his old ways.

When I read the letter, I have to force myself to read it a second time. And a third time. And a fourth…

It’s heartfelt and straight to the point. It’s probably the sincerest thing Jackson has ever written and it takes me back to the days we first reconnected. Those nights we spent together, that’s what I miss the most. The honesty. The sincerity.

“I don’t know,” I say aloud. All of the sudden, the sprinklers come on and I’m forced to run back inside.

Soaking wet, confused, and ready for some real advice, I grab my phone. There are three missed calls from Jackson. “God,” I whisper, pacing around my kitchen. “What am I going to do?”

I get the call hours later. It’s Landon, which manages to confuse me more than anything. Regardless, I answer. I need to know what’s going on.

“You there?” he asks me, right when I answer the call.

“Um, yeah. What’s going on? Don’t you hate me?” I ask him, holding my breath.

“I never hated you, Fiona,” he sighs. “I just misunderstood some things.”

“Right,” I mutter. “Okay, so why are you calling me? I don’t think we’ve talked before. What’s going on, Landon?”

“Did you turn on your TV this morning?” he asks me.

“I saw the phone call. I heard what he said,” I tell him. “So what?”

“I’m with Jackson right now. We’re on our way to meet with Coach Stern and some of the suits upstairs, if you catch my drift. I just thought you should know. We’ve put things behind us,” he says. “He figured you wouldn’t answer the phone if he called you, but he’s trying to make things right.”

I’m honestly flabbergasted by the whole thing. Jackson, taking control of his life in this way? It’s a bit different. Normally, he overreacts, sending everything around him spiraling. I’m not sure how to react to this news. Even if it is true, how can I be sure?

“There’s no way that this is true.” I find myself actually laughing at the whole thing. “Is this part of your master plan? Is this your way to fuck over Jackson?”

“I’m telling you, it’s all the truth. He’s trying his hardest,” he says.

“Let me talk to him,” I say. “Now.”

“We’re here. I’m sorry, I have to go,” he says. He hangs up the phone and I’m left hanging by a thread.

I have a week until I have to go back to LA. I thought everything was going to resume as normal. I didn’t think everything would get this topsy-turvy. Me, give Jackson a second chance? It sure as hell wasn’t in the plan.

Jackson

“We want to play in the Super Bowl, plain and simple,” I tell the coach and the five other board members dressed in nice Armani suits. It’s hard for me to give these guys the time of day. The coach? Well, he’s worked his whole life to be here. He deserves it. The other people, however, haven’t done shit. They don’t know what it’s like out on the field. They don’t understand the pressures we face as professional football players.

“You fought each other,” one of the men says. “Not only that, all of the press that covers you two has been negative from the start. Look, we know you want to play in the game. I’m just not sure if it’s in the cards for you two. We can’t keep making exceptions every game.”

“So we fought a few times? That happens every year with other players,” I begin to make my case. “It just so happens that it happened to the two best players in the league. Are you really willing to mess with the ratings?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” another says. “People will watch the Super Bowl, whether you sit on the sidelines or not. I think we can afford to leave you two out this time.”

“Then, I’m done,” I manage to say after some time.

“Excuse me?” Scott says to me. “What do you mean, done?”

“I mean, I’m done. I quit the game. I don’t need it anymore if you don’t need me,” I say.

“I quit too,” Landon says. “Fuck it. Might as well go down with the ship, right?”

“You can’t quit,” the leading board member says, slamming his glass of water down so hard that it shakes the wooden table in front of us.

“And why the fuck not?” I ask him, feeling the adrenaline start to flow throughout my body. All I want is to leave this room, to drive to Fiona’s place, and bend on one knee. I want to take her by the waist and hold her close. I want to kiss her passionately, until we fall onto her bed. I don’t know if any of this will happen, but I have hope.

“I’ll remind everyone in this room that you two are bound by a strict contract that says you must stay in the league for three years. Then, and only then, will you be able to renegotiate,” he says, table still shaking. “You both agreed upon this, under law.”

“Then, sue me,” Landon says. “Take me to fucking court and take all my money. I don’t care anymore. I came to play, not deal with board members before the biggest game of my life.”

“I’m selling the mansion. You can take the money. Hell, take it all,” I say, backing Landon up. “It’s not worth anything to me anymore.”

Everyone looks to coach Stern, who is staring at the carpet and shaking his head. “When did the game get so complicated?” he asks us. “Back in the day, everything was so much easier. There wasn’t all this crap you have to deal with nowadays. All the sponsorships, team rivalries, all this adrenaline that gets thrown onto the field… it’s not fair to the players. Members of the board, I ask you to reconsider and let these boys play. God knows we need them.”

Both of us walk up beside the coach and stand with him. The board members turn aside to whisper with each other. The one seemingly in charge looks at me. “Alright.” He clears his throat and takes another sip of water. “I think I’ve heard enough for today. You can play the damn game, but if you manage to get yourselves into trouble one more time, we’re done here. Your contract will be over with and you’ll never set foot onto that field ever again. Got it? Good. Now get out of this office.”

I feel my heart rise into the back of my throat. “Wait, what? Can you repeat that? We can play?” I can’t tell if this is all in my mind or not. We got what we came for. I can’t believe it.

“We can play,” Landon says, smiling wide. We walk out with the coach and stand against the sunlight.

“Boys, you’re very lucky. I hope you know that,” he says. He gives a slight chuckle and rubs his fingers against his mustache. “I mean, the gall you two had. Jesus, I can’t believe it.”

I laugh right alongside of him. “I can’t believe it either. To be honest, I thought they were going to throw us out and take us to court.”

It’s a miracle any of this worked out. Landon turns to me after some time. “Go get her, man. Get the girl you love.” All I can do is nod. I turn and hail a cab, rushing to her house, only to find her outside. And she’s crying…

Fiona

I can’t shake this. I can’t keep denying Jackson, even if he has messed up. Maybe he’s really trying to start a new life. Maybe he really does love me like he says he does. And maybe I love him.

When I walk outside to grab a coffee, I break down. I just start bawling. The past few days have taken their toll on me and now I just want answers. Only, there’s no answers to be had. I just need to get through the day, dammit.

And then that little yellow cab comes speeding up to the driveway and stops. I see him, front and center. Through the window, I see him and he’s smiling. He’s got a bouquet of flowers and as he steps outside, he walks with a confidence that’s free and new.

I immediately stop crying and scramble to make myself look more presentable. My hair is a mess, I’m wearing my pajamas, and I haven’t even put on makeup. I’m a total wreck.

And what does he say? “Hello beautiful.” That’s what he says. Of course, I can’t hold it in. More tears come down and I start laughing at the same time. He probably thinks I’m an insane person.

“Hi,” I whisper. “I wasn’t sure you were coming.”

“Here I am,” he says. “I think we need to talk.” I nod and press my lips together. Looking at him now, I want to kiss him so bad.

He grabs my hand and looks me in the eye. “But first, I want to do something,” he says. My eyebrows rise up in confusion.

“What?” I ask him, feeling hesitant.

He falls to one knee and my whole world shatters into a million tiny pieces, in a good way. “Oh my God,” I whisper, closing my eyes. “What’s happening? Is this happening? Oh my God!”

“Fiona Colleen Breckinridge,” he begins, “I was such an asshole to you. I took you for granted. I left you behind 10 years ago. And then I found you again and my life changed forever. I was sent back in time and found the guy I was back then. I made a mistake a decade ago, but I was better back then in a lot of ways. I lost my path, but you helped me become a better human being. And I know I fucked up again. I know I keep having to explain myself and give excuses, but this time it’s for real. I’m done playing around. I’m done being an asshole. I just want you. I want a family. I want everything good and bad, and beautiful, and ugly, all with you. Fiona Breckinridge, will you do me the honor of being my wife? And yeah, that kind of means forever, until we both grow old.”

I laugh again, while crying. “You are such an asshole!” I nearly scream.

“I know it,” he smiles. “But that’s why you love me, right?”

“Yes,” I whisper. “It is.”

“So what’s the answer? My knee is all wet from the grass,” he says. And then he opens the ring box and shows me what’s inside. And, oh my god, it’s perfect. It’s subtle and gorgeous, and as he holds it in front of my hand, I can’t help but feel like it’s already mine. It’s like it’s already a part of me.

I bite my lip and feel every bone and nerve in my body start to rattle. It’s a huge decision, but I have to go with what my heart tells me. And my heart is saying that Jackson Leeman, as cocky as he is, is the right one for me.

“Jackson, you annoy the hell out of me, but you’ve been good to me lately. I want a life with you, I really do. And I’m sorry for almost throwing it all away,” I tell him, choking up some more.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he says. “Hell, you don’t have to ever be sorry with me if you don’t want to.”

“I just can’t imagine waking up and not seeing your face. The nights we spent together were everything to me and I almost let it all go down the drain. We’re going to get married, Jackson. And we’re going to experience the rest of this life together,” I say.

His smile grows at least an inch wider. He slides the diamond ring onto my finger and then grabs my hand and pulls me on top of him. The sprinklers go off and we’re soaking wet, but nothing matters because I found the most important thing in the world, and it’s mine now. I found love.

I found love in a different place.

Jackson

“Are they letting you play, or what?” she asks me, dipping her finger into some frosting from the refrigerator.

“They’re letting me play,” I grin. “We met with all the suits, and the coach. It was really intense.”

“Oh my God, Jackson!” she smiles. “How is that you get so lucky all the time?”

I shrug and walk by her, dipping my finger into the frosting next and feeding it to her. Her thick lips wrap around my knuckle. I pull back slowly and watch as she sucks all the frosting off. My finger is clean when I take it out, which pushes that warm feeling deep inside my body, to rise up.

“I’m just a lucky guy, I guess,” I say, letting go of her hand.

“You are.” She smiles and leans forward. Her tits fall against my chest and her eyes glance up at mine. Her perfume drifts into my senses, sending me into a state of near ecstasy. My cock grows hard against my suit pants, pressing against the zipper. I feel her hand feel around the outside, slowly unzipping and setting me free.

“Fuck, baby,” I moan.

“You really want it, don’t you?” she asks me, when she feels just how thick and hard I’ve become. My throat has tightened a little and when I glance down at her perfectly thick body, something clicks inside of me. It’s a deep feeling, coming from inside of my core, right next to my cock. I need her. Now. I need to taste her. I need to feel her. I need to ravage her.

She slides the top button through the hole of my pants and they fall right off. I pull off my shirt and stumble. Both of us tumbling against the wall as I literally tear the buttons right off her new shirt. “You owe me another top,” she says.

“I’ll just end up ripping that one too,” I say, tongue scraping across her neck.

My lips kiss forward and pull back. The taste of her gives me a new energy. I pick her up and place her on the kitchen counter. She’s wearing that black skirt again. It’s the same tight black skirt she wore on the day I first saw her again. I pull it off and spread her legs apart, revealing her wet pussy.

I’m fucking aching for her. I’m dying to cum inside her. I’m dying to make her mine. I bend forward and lick down from her pelvis, to her clit, and down to her lips. I taste every bit of her, even dragging my tongue across the inner-top of her thighs.

When my mouth is around her dripping pussy, I suck. I suck hard, all the while moving my tongue up and down. Her breathing quickens after a few minutes and soon enough, her hand comes down onto my head. Her palm squeezes as she grabs my hair, forcing me forward even more than before.

“I want to feed you,” she says. When I glance up at her, she’s smiling.

I moan and slide my tongue inside her, pushing against her walls. “Stop,” she moans. “You’re going to make me finish.”

“Good,” I lick across her clit and insert two fingers inside her. This makes her back arch and her feet twist and turn. She bites down on her bottom lip and grabs my head harder. “I want to make you squirm, baby. I want to keep you cumming until morning.”

“The game is tomorrow, Jackson,” she says, in between her erratic breathing. “We can’t fuck all night. You need your rest.”

“That’s what you think,” I smile.

I eat her like I’m starving for her pussy. Her body goes tense and then relaxes, over and over again. When her hands get weaker, she lets go of my hair, like she’s given up. She knows it’s over. She’s about to lose it to my tongue and fingers.

“Jackson,” she moans my name. “I love you.”

If I could talk, I’d say the same thing back, but I’m too invested in her right now. Her thighs shake and her whole body quivers. She gives a deep scream, from the back of her throat, and I know she’s gone. Her pussy contracts over my fingers as I slide them in and out, and she grows even wetter.

I don’t wait for her to say she’s ready for more. I pick her up while she trembles against my body, and bring her to her bedroom. I drop her onto the bed and she smiles big, cheeks rosy red and forehead glowing. “Fuck me,” she whispers. “Fuck the life out of me.”

“God, you’re beautiful.” I moan, licking my bottom lip.

She spreads her legs and slides two fingers inside her mouth. She knows I want her. She knows just how badly I need her soaking pussy. When I enter her, her warmth falls around my cock. I push in slowly and feel it, as every inch slides in further. “Fuck,” I grunt.

“Even deeper,” she whispers. “I want to feel every single inch.”

Her legs close in around my back and I have no choice. I push in further and watch as my cock disappears inside of her. I pull back out and shake my head because the pleasure is too much for me to handle so fast. “Jesus,” I mutter. “You’re still so tight.”

I wrap my arm around the top of her back, to bring her closer to me. Skin on skin. Her tits press against my chest and her nipples drag across my flesh. Goose bumps actually press up against my skin. A strange and pleasurable sensation runs up my spine as I thrust forward.

The look on her face is saying, ‘Make me yours,’ and I’m all in at this point. I look down at her hand laying across my abs and I see that diamond ring. It glitters against the light and suddenly I feel all too emotional. This is the woman I’m going to spend every day of my life with. This is someone I’m going to have kids with. The weight is immeasurable, but it just leaves me more confident about things. It tells me that my life is right and that I’m going in the right direction. It gives me all the power in the world to know we have this kind of love.

As I grab her thigh and hold, I thrust forward. My emotions are going crazy. I love this woman. I love her so damn much. I want to give her everything. I lean forward and admire her beauty. Her perfect lips, her cute cheeks, and her stunning eyes all hook me, and I just know that I’m hooked for life.

I kiss her passionately and hold my hand against her cheek. Her skin is so soft and her hair smells so damn good. I breathe in and thrust once more, holding myself deep inside her. When I release, we both gasp for air.

She spins her body around and pushes her ass against my cock, sandwiching it against my abs. “It’s yours, baby,” I moan. “Take it.”

She reaches around behind her and grabs my thick, pulsating member. She squeezes it in her palm, placing it at her lips. They fold away, closing in on my head, down to my shaft. Her butt jutts back at me and I instinctually squeeze her flesh as I move my hips forward.

I run my other hand across the lines of her back, reaching her neck as I push upward to her hair. I pull back and she moans louder. I push in deeper, harder, even faster. The room is filled with our sex. The air is hot and steamy, as we push forward with our passions.

I grab her plump breasts and cup them, feeling her nipples grow hard inside of my palm. Her skin tightens and her moaning grows deeper, even darker than before. She places her forehead against the mattress and she cums louder than she ever has before. Her pussy tightens around my cock and she pushes back against me, like she’s being fucked at the edge of a cliff.

I lose it almost instantly. My cock throbs and quivers, until finally I feel it come from within. It’s out of my control. I’m fully hers. Forever. And when I cum, I feel the weight of all time grab me. And I feel freer than I ever have.

I lose myself to her that night, over and over, and over and over. We get lost in ourselves, in our kisses, in our touching and heavy petting. Our talks in between grow deeper. We talk about our hopes and dreams.

“I just want a simple life,” she tells me. “This whole PR game… it’s tough.”

“Which is why you’re quitting that company and working for me. My right hand woman,” I say.

“God, I’d love that,” she admits. “No more Joseph. Just promise me one thing.”

“Anything,” I say.

“No more fighting. No more close calls between games. I can’t deal with that either,” she says, hands curled around my cheek. She rubs her thumb across my stubble and I kiss her again, tongue wrapping around hers.

“I promise,” I say. “I’m done with that. Any aggression I feel can be solved in the bedroom, with you.”

“Damn straight,” she smiles.

Fiona

The next day, we wake up early. When I say early, I mean early. He wakes up before the damn sun even gets up and rolls over to kiss me. He kisses the back of my neck and I groan, attempting to stay in the dream I’m having about our beautiful future. He kisses me again and I’m up.

“Okay, okay,” I grunt. “I’m getting up.”

He places his body over mine and kisses my cheek this time. I can feel his hard cock against my navel, and I glance down at the massive beast. “Jackson…” I moan. “Not now.”

“Now.” He smiles. “You want me to play well out there today, don’t you?”

I can’t fake a protest. I want him too bad. He enters me, fucks my brains out, makes me cum, and then cums himself. At this point, I’m ready to spread my legs every morning for him if it means having his mouth work its magic. I’ve never met a man who was so… hungry for me.

We take a shower and hop into a private van that takes us both to the game. Inside the car, everything is quiet. The driver asks if we want any music, anything to put Jackson in the right headspace. But he doesn’t need that. He tells me, “All I need is this woman next to me. Thanks.”

I look at him now, calm and poised. He’s sitting up straight, breathing steady, and the look in his eyes tells me he’s ready to win this. Today is the Super Bowl, one of the biggest, most-watched games in the world. Crazy enough, all eyes will be glued to Jackson. He’s the most talked about player right now. There are still doubts from the media as to whether or not he’ll even play.

The van slows down and the automatic doors slide open. Before he can go into the locker room, he grabs me and throws me into his arms. His lips press against mine and I close my eyes. My whole world has changed in a matter of days. This is the start of my new life.

“Kill it out there,” I tell him.

“What if I don’t win?” he asks me.

“If you don’t win this game, the wedding is off for good.” I smile, joking with him.

“Wow, such pressure.” He kisses me one last time, until Landon pulls up.

“Hey brother,” he says, jumping out of his car.

“The two all-star players.” I smile.

He laughs. “Ready to take on New England?”

Jackson slams his palm against his back and they hug it out. “I’m ready, man. We’re going to destroy them.”

New England has won the last three Super Bowls. Even with Jackson’s stats, they’re poised to take the trophy. Like I said, all eyes are on Jackson. Can he win it for the Black Wings? Will Portland finally win a championship game? I have all the faith in the world.

As I watch them enter the locker room, I feel my heart swell. I look down at my ring, shining against the sunlight, and everything just makes sense. The stress I normally carry has completely disappeared. All I have within me now is sense of hope.

Hopeful. That’s a new word for my vocabulary. I never really felt that way before. Before I gave Jackson that second chance, I really just wanted to make it through the day. My life was just filled with work, work, and more work.

As I walk through the front of the stadium, I show my media pass and get let in. I hear the roaring scream of thousands of people who have come to watch the biggest football game in history. I have to imagine that most have come because of the prestige of the Super Bowl, but I know the pressure that Jackson is under.

I hear their heels stomping on the bleachers and I feel so excited for Jackson. I’m also scared as all hell. It’s not that I don’t believe in him. I just want him to win so bad that it’s starting to freak me out a little.

I make my way onto the field, to the press side. Jennifer is standing there, holding the press badge I got her. She nearly jumps up and down when she sees me. “I can’t believe you got me this thing!” she exclaims.

“It was easy,” I laugh. “Don’t worry about it.”

“So, what’s up with Jackson?” she asks. “Still heartbroken or what?”

“You didn’t watch the Sports Network yesterday?” I ask her, biting my tongue. “Did you see what he called in?”

“No,” she says blankly. “What happened? Oh my God, did he flip out on the host or something? He’s so much trouble sometimes.”

All I have to do is hold up my left hand and she stops dead in her tracks. “No,” she says. “I don’t believe it.”

“Believe it. ‘Cause it’s real.” I smile.

“No!” she shouts. Some of the press turns to look at us. “I just can’t.” She starts to bawl, tears flowing down her face.

“What’s wrong?” I laugh. “I didn’t think you’d cry!”

“I’m not sad,” she says, blowing her nose. “I’m just so happy.”

“Oh, girl.” I grab her and give her the biggest hug of my life. “I love you. You know that, right?”

“Uh huh.” She nods and blows her nose once more. “How did you find a man before me? How’d you do it?”

I shrug. “Beats me.”

“Ugh, I told you to fuck his brains out. I didn’t say you should marry the guy,” she laughs. “Tell me, is the sex really that good?”

“You’d die if you knew. It’s like having sex with The Rock,” I say.

“You bitch! You know how much I love The Rock,” she laughs.

The whistle blows and music starts rattling the bleachers. Fireworks blast off into the sky as both teams come shooting onto the field like human bullets. This is the biggest day in their lives, and it all comes down to this moment. I can only imagine what Jackson is feeling right now.

He comes out last, running at a slow pace. He throws off his helmet and pumps a fist at the crowd. The reaction is stupendous and unreal. Fans from both sides go wild. Everyone is cheering. It seems as if people from all walks of life have been following the story of Jackson Leeman this season. That’s my man.

New England kicks off to Portland, and the ball falls straight into Jackson’s hand. He goes running, making it halfway across the field. A defensive player comes in and tackles his legs. He falls stretching his arms out in front of him. They bring it in to discuss the next play.

The rest of the game goes according to plan. A play later Jackson’s running his way into the end zone, scoring the first points of the game. New England, however, doesn’t back down. They play their hardest and it’s neck and neck.

By halftime, it’s anybody’s game. Before he enters that locker room, he meets me on the side of the field. He kisses me deeply and I grab him and hold him close. “You’re going to get my sweat all over you,” he laughs.

“It’s not like it’s the first time,” I joke back.

“How am I doing out there?” he asks, knowing full well what I’ll say.

“You’re killing them. Just keep at it. Your defense needs to go harder though.”

“I don’t know if we’ll do it,” he says. “They’re just as good as us.”

“They’re not as good as you, though. No one on that team is a match against you. I think everyone in the crowd knows it too. It’s like they’re here for you only,” I say.

“They probably hate me,” he sighs.

“They love you,” I repeat. “Just keep playing hardball and you’ll win this.”

He kisses me and makes his way to that locker room. All I can do is hope for the best. It’s all come down to this day.

* * *

The halftime show is complete madness. Huge bands play with two known female pop stars, women I’ve never seen in my life before, but the crowd is completely familiar with them and riled up.

The players make their way back onto the field and Jackson’s side is up first. They go back into it, harder than ever. Jackson is playing as if his life depends on it. Every play he makes, he looks over at me as if I’m the one issuing the points.

On their third down, he looks serious. He’s only ten yards from the end zone and it’s pretty obvious they’ll make it. They always do. Still, the opposing defense is going strong. They’re determined to block him the whole damn way if they have to.

“Hike!” Loke screams and drops back, examining the field. Jackson pushes past the line and is wide open. Loke throws the pigskin to him and he catches it near the end zone. He dives and he’s in! They score and the crowd goes nuts. Only, a linebacker comes barreling in. He connects against Jackson and slams him into the grass. When the guy gets up, Jackson doesn’t move.

“Get up,” I whisper. But he still doesn’t move. He’s out cold. “Get up!” I scream.

“It’ll be okay, baby girl,” Jennifer whispers. “He’s fine. He just got hit a little hard.”

“Come on, Jackson!” I scream. The whole crowd is doing the same.

The medic rushes onto the field and looks into his eyes. It doesn’t look good. It doesn’t look like he’s even moving.

“It’s going to be okay,” Jennifer says again, almost out of habit. But I’m not so sure. What if he’s injured forever? What if they take him out of the game? There are just too many questions to ask. I find myself having to sit back against a sidewall. This is not what I imagined would happen. Jackson never gets hurt.

The medic shakes his head and I feel my heart collapse. Is it over for Jackson Leeman? Does he have to throw in the towel? I look at my ring. “Come on Jackson. Get up. You can do this,” I whisper, practically praying. “Do it for me.”

Jackson

Everything turns black. I turned to look at him and almost immediately I’m thrown into oblivion. My mind goes blank and I lose consciousness. When I wake up, there’s a light in my eyes and I’m still on the field. Thank God, they didn’t pull me from the game yet.

“Can you hear me?” the medic is saying. The coach runs over to us and talks to the medic in hushed tones. He shakes his head and yells something at him. I can’t make out the words.

“Come on Jackson,” he says to me. “Are you good or do you need medical attention?”

“He may have a concussion and it could be bad. We need to examine him,” the medic says with fire in his eyes.

“Let him decide what he needs, dammit!” the coach yells.

I have the worst headache of my life and it’s not going away anytime soon. “Give me five advil and I’ll be fine,” I manage to whisper, mouth feeling dry. “And some fucking water. I’m dying of thirst.”

“He needs testing and to sit this one out,” the medic repeats. “That’s what I’m calling.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” I tell him.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” he asks me.

I look at his hand and see two fingers duplicated over and over again. I blink again and they connect, only to duplicate again. “Two,” I tell him. “I see two fingers and I feel fine. Just got a little roughed up is all.”

“I could lose my job if I fuck up this call,” he whispers to me. “If I send you on the field, do you promise me you’re okay?”

“I’ll sign a fucking waiver if I have to,” I tell him, picking myself up from the grass. The crowd goes utterly berserk. I wave at the crowd, feeling incredibly dizzy and sick to my stomach. I look over at Fiona and she looks so damn worried. She’d kill me if she knew I was feeling this way and still staying in the game.

I walk to the side of the field and rest my body. When I sit down on the bench, I sigh loudly and rest my head in my hands. The world is spinning around me and I shouldn’t be staying in the game, but I have to finish this one out. I’m not about to be taken away on a stretcher during the Super Bowl. That’s not my legacy, dammit.

I look over at my beautiful fiancé standing over in the press area. She’s shivering against the foggy-cold air, looking at me with worried eyes. I give her the thumbs up. Whatever happens, I have to finish this game out.

Landon leans over. “Got the spins?”

“A little bit,” I smile. “It’ll go away, right?”

“Shit, man. Don’t ask me,” he laughs. “I’d probably finish the game out, only to find out I fucked up my body forever.”

The game chugs along and it’s neck and neck, through and through. By the end of the fourth quarter, it’s anyone’s game. I honestly don’t know how we’re going to win this. I’m injured, but still playing decent. There are only a few plays left. Lucky for us, we’ve got our offense.

We run a normal play, but their defense is strong. Loke can’t get around a few of their lineman that break through. When we huddle back up, the world feels intense and hurried. There’s not much time left. All eyes are on us.

“What do we do?” Landon asks Loke. “They’re killing us out there.”

“We gotta bring out the big guns,” he says, turning very serious. “You know what I’m talking about Jackson?”

“I know exactly what you’re talking about.” I smile.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Landon asks.

Loke tells him what the deal is. We go for a field goal. They receive the ball with 5 minutes to go. We plan for an interception and run it in. It’s about the only chance we have.

Landon, however, is not too thrilled. We call a timeout and discuss the whole thing together, as a team. The coach nods his head as he listens to Loke’s plan. “I’m just not sure. What if they score on us after the field goal?”

“It’s a risk,” I tell him. “But if we can hold it down, we’ll come out champions.”

“Fuck,” he sighs. “This isn’t the decision I thought I would have to make during the 4th quarter. You feeling okay, Jackson? Your head up to date?”

“I’m good. Put me out there on defense, coach. I’ll intercept the damn thing. I’ll make sure we go home with that trophy,” I say. I look to the side of the field, at Fiona and feel my heart wrench. Winning this game is for her.

So, we go for it. “Break!” we scream, putting our hands in. We line up and the kicker kicks the field goal. We get the few points we need and then, it’s time for defense. Quickly, they try to score on us. We hold it down, but they’re only doing running plays. They know they need to be extra careful today.

“Come on,” I whisper. “Just throw the damn ball.”

It doesn’t happen. By third down, I’m convinced they’re just going to keep pushing on through. Another run play and I start to get real worried. However, the next play, I see their formation. “What a minute,” I whisper. “I know this formation.”

It’s a play I did in college, during the Rose Bowl. It was my winning play, and now they’re trying to use it on me! I run across the field, whispering to my players what they’re plan is, and quickly get back into formation. They’re going to pass the ball to number 37. And they’re going to try and do it triumphantly.

“Hike!” the quarterback screams and everything suddenly seems to slow down. Our cleats smash down on the grass as bits and pieces fly up around our legs. The linemen’s helmets smash together like a bunch of rams on the side of an eastern slope. The crowd cheers, boos, and spins their noisemakers.

I glance over at 37 and he makes eye contact with me, as well. He knows I know about his plan. There’s a look of fear in his eyes, for a split second, that tells me I can beat him. I run over to his side of the field, glancing at their quarterback.

Their quarterback drops behind everyone, winding his arm back. He launches that football into the end zone and I see it perfectly. This is it. It all comes down to this one second.

The ball comes closer and closer. I can’t even blink. My nerves are fucking shot. And then I think of her. Fiona. And my heart is set on fire. I jump in front of the wide receiver, number 37, and the tip of the pigskin touches my fingers. It knocks a little, bouncing off my palm, and for a second there I think I’m doomed. Somehow though, it falls into my arms. I catch the ball. Only problem is, now I’ve got a full defense facing me and I’m on the wrong end of the field.

“Here goes nothing,” I whisper to myself.

The crowd goes absolutely insane. A beautiful excitement surges throughout my body. It carries me across the field. I smash through one lineman and dodge another. I jump over one guy who tries to tackle me from below and spin around the next. It’s a dance. The whole thing is a fucking dance, and I’m killing it out there.

It’s a long fucking run, but I dive into the end zone, reaching out my arms. My body falls into the clearing and I close my eyes. It’s only by the sound of the roaring crowd, that I know I’ve just scored the winning touchdown. The Portland Black Wings have won the championship. And the crowd goes wild.

Fiona

He scores the touch down and I feel my heart nearly burst. Jennifer turns to me and squeals with delight. “He did it! Oh my lord, he did it!”

I stand there in shock. “He… did it?” I ask, stunned beyond all belief.

“Your guy did it!” she repeats.

“My… guy… did it…” I mumble.

Jackson comes running from across the field. He jumps over the press barrier and nearly tackles me! He hugs me tight, pressing his lips around mine. I kiss him deeply and he picks me up into his arms. “We did it, baby,” he whispers.

“You did it,” I tell him.

“Not without you. Everything I do, from here on out, is because of you,” he says.

He runs with me in his arms, across the field. Soon enough, everyone has picked us up into their arms. We get tossed around in the air as someone hands me the trophy. There’s no time to react. It’s either all smiles or tears, and the other team doesn’t look so hot.

Landon’s happy, Jackson’s happy, and I’m beyond words. The only thing left is our wedding and, of course, the rest of our future.

Epilogue: The Wedding

“I do,” he whispers.

The birds fly around us. The air is colder and the leaves on the trees have begun to fall. “You may kiss the bride,” the officiate says to Jackson.

It’s like we’ve been married for months now. We moved in together almost instantly. Jackson sold his mansion the day after the big game for a whopping 3.5 million dollars, and we bought a house, far off into the woods of Astoria, Oregon. Not too far from Portland, but just far enough.

His lips wrap around mine and I feel choked up. My heart is steady, but there’s something beautiful in the air. This is the man I love. This is the man I’ll be with for the rest of my life.

The champagne corks fly and the toasts come in quick succession. All it takes is a flash, the cutting of the cake, and a few more drinks before the sun starts setting behind the mountains. We’ve chosen a clearing in the forest for our wedding spot, and it’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.

“This will be our spot, forever,” he whispers into my ears as we dance slow together. His hand is in my hand and we both rest our cheeks on each other.

“Forever? You mean it?” I ask him.

“Forever. I promise,” he says.

After the song finishes, he grabs my hand and pulls me aside. “Come with me for a second,” he says.

We sneak off into the woods, running and giggling together. “Where are you taking me to, Jackson Leeman?” I ask him, laughing.

“You’ll see!” he says.

When we get to a cliff, we stop, completely out of breath. The sun is in full glory in this spot, setting down into the canyon. Huge trees dart up from the ground, but in between all the leaves are rays and a light fog. The sun is a reddish hue that looks utterly gorgeous. It’s unbelievable.

“I want a child together,” he says.

“You do?” I ask him, biting my lip. “It’s a lot of responsibility.”

“Shit, everything’s a lot of responsibility. My whole life they’ve been telling me that and it turns out it’s not as hard as it looks. Even if it is, I know I’ll love our baby forever. I just want that with you, so bad.” He kisses my cheek and looks me in the eyes.

“Me too,” I tell him. There’s a short amount of silence before I whisper something else. “So why aren’t you fucking me right now?”

“I don’t want to ruin your dress,” he smiles, cocky.

“Go ahead,” I laugh. “Ruin it. We can always send it to a drycleaner.”

I reach out and feel his cock. It’s already hard as a fucking rock. I pounce on my new husband. “Well, hello, Mr. Leeman.”

“Mrs. Leeman,” he whispers back, kissing me.

He lifts my dress up, over my waist and enters me. I’m about as wet as I could possibly be. He feels around my garter, up to my waist, and pulls me in closer. He pushes in deep and slow, our breaths controlled but on the verge of being erratic and wild. In the distance, some bushes rustle but nothing bothers us right now. We’re in our own personal heaven.

I ride him slow and deep, kissing him in between every gyration from my hips. “I’m going to cum,” he whispers, grabbing at my dress. Leaves and bits of soil stick to us like Velcro.

“Me too,” I moan.

He cums inside of me and I feel my legs give way. My stomach shakes and my chest feels clammy and tight. I lose myself with him, screaming in the forest. It echoes off the branches. He covers my mouth and starts laughing. “Shh,” he whispers.

We lay with each other, under the giants of the forest. As the trees stare down at us, I feel blessed. I feel like everything has been made for this one moment. It’s not real.

“I love you, Fiona Breckinridge,” he whispers, playing with my hair.

“That’s not my name anymore,” I smile.

“It’ll always be your name to me,” he says. “I’ll always remember you as the girl I almost lost forever. I’m just so damn grateful I get you now.”

Tears form in both our eyes, but they’re tears of joy. We’ve spent most of our lives running from our problems, hiding in our work and passions. When we finally decided to stop running, we found each other again. It was that simple and yet, that complicated.

When Jackson holds me, I know that everything will go according to plan. I know it’s probably going to be a little crazy, but so be it. That’s how I like it anyway. What’s life without a little adventure? Lucky for me, I have my wide receiver, ready for anything that comes our way.

Other Bad Boy Books by Kara Hart!

Most girls wouldn’t run from the richest man in the city. I guess I’m not most girls. He has a dark secret, and no amount of money can keep it hidden. Then again, I have a secret of my own. I had his baby, and now both our worlds are crumbling to pieces.

I’ve never backed down from a challenge, and I’ve had my share... But Helena Rollins is in a league of her own. She thinks I’m damaged. Broken. She thinks I’m trouble. Well, maybe she’s right, but she’s wrong about one thing… She’s mine forever, and I’m going to make sure of it this time.

I promised her I'd never let her go. That's why I brought these handcuffs.

Come on, Kitten. Let's go for a ride.

The hardest men take what they want

I play hard. On and off the field.

Lust is HARD. Love is DEEP.

Ripped SEAL. Filthy mouth. Big… gun. What else does a woman need?

You want to play rough? Be careful what you wish for.

I made one big mistake that almost ruined my life -- I had the quarterback’s baby.

Author’s Note

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