by S. K. Lessly
“So, you think you’re not on their level because you teach? What made you become a teacher?”
With my dough formed, I grabbed some flour and spread a good amount on the counter. Next, I dumped the dough on the flour surface and kneaded the dough until it was no longer sticky. I thought about not answering his question, but as I looked up at him, I could see it in his eyes he wasn’t letting me off the hook.
I sighed and then answered, “Let’s see. When I was in middle school, I thought about becoming an astronaut so I could get away from my family. That quickly changed when I realized how much math I needed to know.” Paul chuckled and I smiled. “Then, when I got older, I started thinking about working with troubled youth. But I couldn’t relate to them all that much. I mean I could, but I wasn’t brought up in the streets per se. My parents were middle class, probably upper middle class. I grew up in West Philly. I lived in an affluent neighborhood, but my school had questionable attendees. My parents made very good money. I never wanted or needed anything. I couldn’t relate to any kid who was struggling out here in the streets and I wouldn’t pretend like I did either.
“So, I thought about teaching. I figured no one would be able to pull the wool over my eyes since I’d practically done it all. With that being said, I majored in secondary education. When I went to grad school and I was teaching class for my mentor, he had said I had a knack for teaching college kids. I was able to relate better with the students for some reason. So, with his guidance, I pursued teaching on a collegiate level instead of public schools.”
“And you love what you’re doing?”
I nodded while spreading my dough, using a rolling pin, in a rectangle so I could cut out the biscuits. “I do actually.”
“Then you’re successful just like your siblings. Success isn’t measured by the amount of money you’re making, but the happiness and satisfaction you feel doing what you love. At least that’s how I feel. Take me for example. Yes, I was a model student in high school. My father wanted me to run his company when I graduated college, so I went for a double major, business administration and finance. And before you ask, I partied in college. Not as much as others, but only because I played sports. I needed to be healthy in order to keep my scholarship. But after I graduated, I watched a special on New York Firefighters and I was hooked. I knew at that very moment I was destined to do something else. My father was not happy, as you can imagine. He actually stopped talking to me for months.”
“Really?”
“Oh yeah, I’m sure he took me out of the will and everything. I didn’t care. He didn’t pay for me to go to school like he did my siblings; I did that on my own. I got my own apartment and car with my own money and not money from my father. Becoming a firefighter was my decision and I was glad I made it.”
“Did he ever come around?”
He nodded. “He did eventually. Actually, it was after my company and I saved one of his golfing buddies from a tree he’d wrapped his Mercedes around. Once my father got word of that, I was back in his good graces.”
I stopped what I was doing and gave Paul an appreciative glance. I had to admit I had a different outlook on Paul Logan. He was still a good guy and probably a saint, but I could see there was something else in those stunning blue eyes; something hard, dominant, and rough. He wasn’t a push over that would let anyone or anything prevent him from getting what he wanted.
A man after my own heart.
“So, are you close with your family?” he asked me, cutting into my thoughts.
I shrugged and started placing the biscuits on two cookie sheets and shoving them into the preheated oven. Did I mention that I loved this kitchen? It was huge for one with lots of counter space, cabinets for storage and two, count, two ovens mounted. One was a traditional oven and the other a convection oven. I almost had an orgasm when I walked into this kitchen yesterday. I was in heaven.
Back to Paul.
I looked up at the man, remembering he had asked a question and replied, “Not really. Well, let me take that back. I’m close to my brother, Mark. But my other two siblings and my parents…” I shrugged. “I guess we’re okay.” With the biscuits now in the oven, I shifted to the eggs, which was the last item on the menu. “What about you?”
“I’m as close as close can get with my siblings.” Of course, you are, I said to myself as he continued. “My parents take some getting used to and I’m just not there yet. I love them, but they are a piece of work.”
“Yeah, I guess my parents love me too. It’s just that sometimes I feel they’re looking at me with disappointment, you know. I’ve put them through a lot and sometimes I think my past will never leave me in their eyes. My oldest brother and sister remind me of my failures every chance they get. They feel as though I broke my parents’ hearts on many occasions and I don’t deserve forgiveness or something.” I laughed uncomfortably. “Sebastian thinks I’m over reacting of course and tells me so every time I mention it. It’s just that I can see it and feel it when I’m around them. You know what I mean?”
“Sure, I get it. And, no one can tell you that you’re overreacting. If that’s the way you feel, something is making you feel that way. Question though. Why don’t you talk to them? Maybe it’s just a huge misunderstanding. Maybe they don’t even know they’re treating you a certain way and if you tell them, they’ll change.”
Ah, my very own Boy Scout.
I smiled up at him. “Yeah, maybe one day I’ll do that.”
I didn’t say anything else and simply went back to the eggs in my hand. What Paul had suggested wasn’t the first time I had heard it. Sebastian had told me the same thing, but I just didn’t see the point. Neither Sebastian nor Paul knew what it was like for me growing up so they didn’t have a clue what I felt. Sebastian’s parents loved him dearly and they didn’t have a problem expressing their love for their only son. My parents, on the other hand, had never shown any type of affection towards me. They never gave me a hug or told me they loved me.
“Lauren,” I jumped slightly and looked at Paul. He had come around the counter and was standing next to me with concern in his eyes.
“Yes?”
“I was asking you how you liked teaching at Bloomfield College, but you had this faraway look in your eyes. You okay?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Yeah, I’m good.” I gave him a quick smile that I didn’t feel. To stop him from asking more questions, I added quickly, “Bloomfield is okay. It's not like being at Drexel, but it’s fine. I’m hoping I can find a job at a bigger campus like Montclair State or even Rutgers.”
“Montclair State? Really? I actually have a buddy that works there. I think he’s in student affairs. I ran into him the other day and we got to catching up on old times. I can ask him if they have any positions open or if he can get you in for an interview?”
“Are you serious?”
“Of course.”
I dropped the whisk I was using to mix the eggs on the counter and jumped in his arms. I hugged him so tight I knew I was crushing his ribs. Paul didn’t say anything, though. He just laughed and hugged me back. I buried my face in his neck and inhaled his scent. Goodness, he smelled good.
Being held by him felt soo good. It had been forever since I’d been in anyone's arms and I just wanted to hold on just a little while longer.
Finally, after I got my wits about me. I moved back, embarrassed, and smiled an apology. Paul brushed it off with a smile of his own.
We talked a little more about our childhoods while I prepared the eggs. We compared war stories on how bad I was versus how good and honorable he was in school. I won that battle hands down. I was just that horrible in school.
When I was finally finished cooking, I put the spread of food on the long counter. Paul helped set out the plates and utensils in a buffet-style setting. I pulled the last of the biscuits out of the oven just as Samson came grumbling downstairs.
“I knew I smelled biscuits.” He took one from the cookie sheet and bi
t into it. He looked at me. “This reminds me of the ones my mama used to make. Girl, this is good!”
“You should see what else this amazing woman’s done,” Paul raved.
“Should I now?” Samson replied, smiling at Paul, and I noticed his face grow red. I started to rib him about the redness when I heard more feet coming downstairs. I looked up and saw everyone making their way toward us, smiling.
It was that moment when exhaustion hit me like a ton of bricks. I excused myself from everyone and moved to the steps to head upstairs. Before I left, however, Paul grabbed my arm and bent down close to my ear.
“Thanks for everything you’ve done.”
I smiled and nodded my head. I made it halfway up the steps before I turned back and watched everyone making plates, talking, and looking well rested. I could hear Sebastian singing my praises and I smiled at that before I turned back around and went to my bedroom. I couldn’t wait to close my eyes and finally be able to sleep.
9
Lauren
Later that day, we all tried our hand at skiing. We had a ball laughing at each other falling all over the place and cheered for the ones who skied their first slope. We had lunch at a local restaurant afterwards and then hung out at the cabin for the rest of the night, listening to music, sitting by a campfire, roasting marshmallows, and enjoying each other’s company.
The next day, we slept in late, had a light late day breakfast at a diner fifteen minutes away, and walked along the shops in town again before returning back to the cabin to get ready for the Super Bowl.
I found a nice cushioned place on the couch to enjoy the game after I put out the chips and pretzels and filled the cooler with brew. Paul and Samson were grilling on the porch and the ladies of the house, Amy, Sabrina and Tonya, worked together to make the side dishes.
The Patriots and Falcons were playing for the Vince Lombardi trophy and the game was pretty good. Unfortunately, I had zero interest in the game itself, except the fact that it would be the last game of the season.
By the time halftime rolled around, we were shitfaced. In fact, we all were so wasted that we’d started cracking jokes at the halftime show. When it was time for the second half of the game to start, we were no longer paying any attention. Someone decided drinking games would be a great idea. Sabrina got so drunk she did like a one-eighty in her behavior. She was louder and crazier than I was used to seeing her. I actually liked her better when she was drunk than I did when she was sober.
As the night began to wind down, Samson hooked up his phone to the surround system on the entertainment center and we spent the rest of the night jamming to all types of music. We were all dancing in the middle of the living room floor after pushing the furniture out of our way. We danced to whatever he played, just being silly.
When the music slowed down, so did we. We were swaying our bodies to slow grooving music, each of us into our mates completely.
I had my arms around Sebastian and his arms were around me. It felt good. I hadn’t had this feeling in a long time and I told him so.
“Awe, come on, Lauren, you’re exaggerating,” he countered, stopping in mid-sway to study me.
“No, Sebastian. I’m not. Tell me, when was the last time you’ve held me this close to you?”
He was silent and I got my answer.
I then added, with a wicked gleam in my eyes, “Look, you can definitely make it up to me when we get to the hotel in Miami.”
Sebastian gave me a look that I couldn’t read before he took my hand and led me upstairs. I couldn’t help the stupid grin that swelled on my face. Maybe he didn’t want to wait until Miami. I was fine with that!
I looked down at the group and caught Tonya’s eye. I grinned at her and she gave me a thumb up. This was a long time coming and I couldn’t wait to finally get laid. I had been going out of my mind. I just hoped I wouldn’t scream too loud. Who would care if I did? If only they knew how long it'd been, they would understand.
When we got in the room, I didn’t wait for him to close the door. I started taking off my clothes, anticipating his hands roaming all over my body.
I wonder where he’d start first. I would love to feel his tongue on my...
“No, wait, Lauren.” Sebastian stepped up to me and placed his hands up.
“What?” My jeans were unbuttoned and unzipped. I was just about to pull them down my thighs.
He paused and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I was trying to figure out the best way to tell you this. But um, we can’t go to Miami this week.”
“What?!” My eyes grew wide and my hands flew to my hips.
He put his hands up defensively and said calmly, “Okay look, Lauren, I was all ready to go. I took off work and everything. But I just got word the other day that I have to go out of town on business when we get back tomorrow.”
“You have got to be kidding me, Sebastian. Do you realize that our anniversary is next weekend? Do you realize I’ve been waiting on this trip for weeks?” I pointed at him. “This was your idea. You were the one who told me how much we needed this. And I agreed, Sebastian. We need this desperately.”
He walked closer to me. “Lauren, can you stop being selfish for one minute?”
“Can I stop being selfish? I’m being selfish?” I knew my voice was starting to rise, but I didn’t give two fucks if all of Pennsylvania heard me. This was bullshit.
Sebastian started to shush me and that made me even madder. “I will not be quiet. I have been understanding for over six months, Sebastian, waiting for my husband to want me, to want to be with me, and for us to spend time together alone.” I snatched up my shirt off the floor and put it back on. “Do you know I’ve started to second guess myself, wondering that maybe you just don’t want me anymore or love me? I’m sick of feeling this way, Sebastian. And right now, I’m sick of looking at you.”
I walked past him, bumping him as I left the room. I heard him call after me, but I didn’t stop. I was livid and I wanted so badly to just leave right now. I wanted to drive home and leave this son of a bitch here.
When I got down stairs, no one was there. I knew though at some point someone was going to start rocking this building and I didn’t want to hear it. I grabbed a blanket I had seen in a closet close to the front door and I went on the back porch. I noticed there was a heater on the porch and I plugged it in and waited for it to warm me up. Fifteen minutes later, I was nice and toasty and still pissed as hell.
“We have got to stop meeting like this.”
I didn’t bother turning around this time as the familiar voice refreshed me. Something that smelled delicious caressed my nostrils and I looked up to find Paul holding two cups if steaming hot coffee. He offered me one of the cups and I graciously took it in my hand and took a sip.
Oh, this hit the spot.
I gave him a chin lift as my thanks and took another sip. I noticed his legs disappear from my view however he didn’t leave the porch. I looked over in time to see him drag a chair close to the heater and sat down next to me.
“What are you doing down here alone?” Paul asked after a few quiet moments had passed. “The way you two disappeared earlier, I thought you two would be making this building shake.” Paul smiled at me, but I didn’t return his smile.
Instead, I said, “Yeah, well, so did I.” I glanced at him then turned away.
“Lauren, is everything okay?”
I met his gaze again in the dim light and fuck, he looked hot as hell. The man was so damn attractive, that sometimes it hurt to look at him. The hard plains of his handsome face, the softness in his eyes, and the sexy-as-sin body of his had me wishing for a moment that we lived different lives; that it was just him and me here in this cabin. I wondered would we find ourselves sitting here enjoying the crisp night air underneath the stars hugged up or would our naked bodies be entangled with each other. I took a deep breath and pushed that idea out of my head.
“No, Paul, it isn’t.” I answered tersely, trying not
to direct my frustration his way but failing miserably. “It’s our anniversary next weekend and we were supposed to be going to Miami, but my husband has decided to go to work instead.”
“Oh wow, I remembered he said you two were going away tomorrow, right?” I nodded and he asked, “And, he has to work now?”
I nodded again, but didn’t say anything. I brought the coffee cup to my lips so I wouldn’t start cussing Sebastian out.
“Lauren, I’m sure he didn’t do this on purpose. I mean the way he talked to me about it, he was really looking forward to going with you. I was supposed to drop you two off at the airport when we got home.”
That information just made things worse. I knew I shouldn’t have been talking to Paul about this, but I was still a bit tipsy and angry and right now I didn’t care if he knew the truth or not.
“Paul, I know this is extremely inappropriate for me to say, but Sebastian and I haven’t been intimate with each other in a very long time. I was hoping this trip would end the drought and bring us closer together as well as restore my sanity.”
Paul looked over at me. “Okay,” he dragged out then asked, “How long is a very long time?”
I leaned into him for effect. “It’s been six months and about ten days since the last time we’ve been together.”
Paul spit his coffee out in disbelief, literally. “Bullshit!” he croaked, wiping his chin with the back of his hand.
I shook my head, my eyes wide and expressive just to bring home my point. “Oh, no, I’m serious.”
Paul just sat there with this weird look on his face as if he just couldn’t believe a word I’d just said. Yeah, buddy, join the club.
Finally, he got himself together and cleared his throat. “Uhhh... I’m sorry, but that’s just a little hard for me to believe. I mean six months? Lauren, how is that possible?”
“I don’t know, Paul, but that’s my reality. And he simply pissed me off up there telling me I was being selfish for wanting to spend time with him and for getting angry because once again, he was putting his job first. He has big nerve, right? I'm far from being selfish.”
