Topsy Turvy Kinda Love

by J Marie

  She wrinkles her eyebrows at me. “Only if I can use my ruler when you get out of hand.”

  “Do I get to spank you if you’re out of line?”

  “Only if you ask me nicely.”

  “Fuck, yes.”

  “Let’s try a new position this time… gotta check off more bucket list items and all.”

  We spend the rest of the day trying all sorts of positions and techniques. Marking one thing after the next on our wish list. For a recently dethroned virgin, he has some insane sex moves. Granted, at the beginning I was a little worried he’d explode as soon as I slid down him. He seemed to pick things up after a few minutes, though, literally and figuratively.

  He has sex like he moves, all smooth and swagger. He’s gotten bolder, learning to bring out his flirty, sexy side. Maybe he really has been thinking about this for weeks and months. I smile, thinking about how many orgasms I’ve had in the midst of a day. Once we got over that alphabet mishap. God, now that was horrible. I’m not even sure where he got that, but he’s been banned from doing it ever again.

  He’s even different during sex. It’s almost like he has a controlling alpha side where he gets all growly, versus the normal polite and fun Brooks. And the sex… The most intense I’ve ever experienced. It isn’t just physical with him. My emotions are all out of whack on a rollercoaster careening down a snow-covered mountain with failed brakes.

  Now that the fog has faded, I need to sort my feelings about all of this, but I don’t want to. Not yet. Thinking about it will be admitting that it may be something more. It’s not. It’s only sex between us because these aren’t feelings. It’s a lack of oxygen to the brain over all the hot sex we’ve been having. Brain deprivation due to big dick overload.

  Every time I move, I’m reminded of the delicious soreness from our sexcapades yesterday. It hasn’t been that good in years for me. That’s also the first time I haven’t gotten stoned out of my mind right beforehand. So maybe being sober is the reason all these thoughts are competing for space in my brain. Overwhelming me.

  My growling stomach reminds me that we forgot to eat dinner last night, and I need to replenish myself, but first, I need a shower. As much as I don’t want to wash Brooks’ scent from my body, I need to get my mind on straight and remember why I’m doing this with him. It’s also why I dragged myself from his bed late last night instead of staying in it for two nights in a row. I’m teaching him sex for someone else. For someone that isn’t me. Straightforward and simple. No attachments, no feelings… So why do I feel so weird about it now?

  I get up and head toward the bathroom, needing to freshen up. I crank the shower too hot, letting steam fill the bathroom. Stepping under the spray, I let everything sink in.

  Brooks.

  The look he gives me that’s filled with so much hope for us. A look that tells me he thinks I’m possible of love. Shaking my head, I abandon that notion. It isn’t possible. I’m too scarred against love to ever believe. It’s only taken 25 years to figure out that I’m broken.

  The way he looks to me for instruction and asks if I’m okay every step of the way. He lets me lead and never once makes me feel pressured or tells me what to do. He’s becoming a strong force in my life. One I refuse to lean on. People don’t stick around. People want what they want from you, and then they throw you away like a discarded dish towel that’s been used one too many times.

  Brooks is getting to me, and for the first time, I realize that my heart isn’t really made of steel. There’s tiny fragments on the surface that can turn into deep fractures if I’m not careful. A tear slips down my face from all the emotions pounding me. But what if Brooks is different? What if…maybe… for once, I’m not really alone.

  Dude, she totally fell for it. I did all the normal boyfriend things. Told her she was pretty, told her I loved her. You should have seen her face. She straight up believed me.

  Chad laughed with his friends, unaware that I had heard every word. It hurt. Like a dagger to the chest. A confession I shouldn’t have heard shattered the very way I thought about love and relationships. I’d given him my virginity just to find out that I was another notch on his bedpost. Yet another man in my life that I couldn’t depend on to do the right thing.

  I’d say he broke me, but I won’t give him that much credit.

  That was the day I swore to myself that I’d never let a man get anywhere close to taking my heart. So I put it under lock and key. When I confronted him about it a couple days later, he adamantly denied all of it, but I knew the truth. He tried to kiss me after he realized I didn’t believe him, backpedaling fast to tell me he was just shooting the shit with the guys. A little too late, I’d thought.

  Words can’t be taken back. I choose to believe actions always speak louder. So I’d adopted this persona. I’d dyed my strawberry blonde hair into cotton candy colors and started wearing gothic clothing. I spent most of my time holed up painting and smoking, trying to drown out the feelings with some THC. I noticed that people who look differently tended to be ignored and left alone and that’s exactly what I’d wanted.

  I was fine with that life until Brooks walked into Topsy Turvy a little over a year ago and changed every thought. I guess at this point, I need to decide if giving Brooks a chance is worth the eventual downfall of my soul when it doesn’t work out.

  A knock on the bathroom door has me wiping my eyes quickly. I didn’t realize how long I’ve been in here. Long enough to wash my hair, had I remembered. I hadn’t even washed anything yet. “Knock, knock my sexy pixie.” He pulls back the shower curtain and smiles that panty melting grin. “Hand check.”

  I raise my hands and can’t help but laugh.

  “Good. Just wanted to make sure you weren’t getting frisky in here without me.”

  “Nope, just taking a shower.” His eyes roam my face, and I see a hint of concern before that brilliant smile comes back. Only it isn’t as big this time. He knows something’s wrong, but I also know he’d never force me to talk about it. Brooks is a good man like that.

  “You need some help getting clean?”

  “Pretty sure you’re the reason I’m here in the first place… because I was so very dirty last night.” I wink at him and he groans.

  “God, you’re so beautiful, and last night was… hot. When can we have a repeat? I think I could learn a few more things…”

  “Well, luckily, there are still some things left on that sex bucket list of yours…”

  He waggles his eyebrows at me. “Uh huh.” One look down confirms that he’s ready for another round right here and now. The front of his pants are tented. Following the path, my eyes lead to, he chuckles and shrugs.

  I raise my hand up and wave it.

  He smirks that devilish charm my way. “What are you doing?”

  “Raising the white flag. I surrender. My lady bits need some recovery time before we do any of that again. I think you almost split my V with your monster D last night.”

  He winks, that dimpled grin crossing his face. “You loved it.”

  I fake pout. “Did not.”

  “Did so.”

  “Good Lord, Brooks, are you five?”

  “Nope, just trying to get a laugh out of you. It worked. Victory is mine! Whenever you’re done here, I’ll have breakfast ready for you.”

  My stomach growls at the suggestion of food. “Ugh. You’re going to make me fat with all this cooking.”

  “Good thing we have our exercise plan all mapped out then, right?” He winks and I can’t help but shake my head. This guy.

  “Right,” I say dryly.

  “Okay, then. I’ll go make food. Don’t take too long or I’ll have to come in and do another hand check. Maybe offer to help with your lady bits.” My words coming back at me from his lips have me laughing again. How does he always, always know what to say?

  Brooks leaves me in peace to finish showering. I do so quickly, not wanting to miss out on breakfast. I’m becoming a dependent little food
whore on his offerings. I’ve never had someone that made food for me, but I can’t say I don’t like it. As I put on black leggings and an oversized gray sweater, the smell of bacon and eggs assaults my nostrils. My mouth waters at the anticipation of a homemade breakfast.

  I finish putting my hair into a messy bun and head out to the kitchen. Sitting down at the table, I think about how real it feels. Eating at the table with another person instead of just shoving a Pop-Tart down my face while I paint and smoke. It’s nice. The closeness. The feel of normalcy. Although, I’m not sure I’ve ever been normal…

  Plates are already set out on the table along with silverware. Brooks brings over the steaming hot skillet and I can’t help but ogle every bit of him. He hasn’t put a shirt on, and I watch his muscles as they bunch with each movement. My eyes trail further down, stopping at the Adonis belt and dragging down that very happy path to down under. “I’ve got bacon or sausage first?”

  “Mmm… bacon. God’s gift to people. I swear I could eat bacon for the rest of my life and die a happy lady.” I bite into it. The crunch is that level of perfection you get when you fry bacon precisely how it’s meant to be because non-crispy bacon is the worst. I moan, my eyes rolling back into my head.

  “Mia,” he warns.

  “Yes, Brooksy?”

  “Don’t make those noises unless you want to deal with the consequences.”

  “Can you please explain all the consequences to me now? They sound like fun.” Elbows on the table, I put my chin on my hands and flutter my eyelashes like a girly girl. He shakes his head, places one sausage and three pieces of bacon on his plate and goes back to the kitchen.

  He peeks out from the kitchen with that killer world stopping smile that brings me to my knees. “How do you prefer your eggs?”

  “Um… I’m partial to sunny side up, but I won’t complain over scrambled either. I’m pretty easy that way.”

  He winks with a chuckle. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for easy at all.”

  “Don’t make me murder you before I get my tea.”

  “Oh, tea, right. The kettle isn’t done yet, but it’s on the stove.”

  “Thanks, Brooks. Really, I mean it.” It’s easier to say things like that when he isn’t actually in the same room as me.

  He speaks to me from the kitchen as he continues cooking, “Well, I did need some extra tutoring last night, so it’s the least I could do. Feeding you.” I hear the fridge open, what I assume to be eggs being whisked, and then the sizzle of the hot pan as they’re added to it. We are being so domestic, so couple goals…

  “Do you work today?” I ask, trying to keep the conversation going so I don’t get in my own head.

  “Nope, off today and tomorrow. Same as you.”

  “Any plans?”

  “Netflix and chilling, I think that’s what the kids call it these days.”

  “You know what that means, right?”

  “Yeah, something to do with sex, but I was thinking about actually binging something fun. Maybe just hanging out with you. I feel like we know nothing about each other.”

  “Alright, Brooks. That sounds nice.” I won’t mention that my heart’s pounding so hard trying to escape my chest at the mere thought of letting him into my life and explaining just a tiny bit more of my past.

  I’m losing feeling in my fingers and toes over coming clean. Spilling my life story seems like a mountain I’m not willing to climb yet, but I want to give it a try though. We are roommates, after all. Friends talk and share things. Maybe I can too. Maybe.

  He finally finishes cooking and brings the rest of the food to the table. Eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, and fruit. He’s made a feast.

  “So, what about you?” I ask him. I spilled some of the crap in my life last night and now I want to hear about him.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Where you grew up, what school you went to, what your hobbies were…”

  “We called it the compound. A bunch of religious nuts living under one roof, not interacting with the outside world because our leaders believed that by not doing it, we were pure. They chose who we would marry. Some men were offered more than one wife if they were true believers. Any children brought up in the fold were told to think and act a certain way. Outsiders were an abomination. Our schooling was based on religion and the one true way to God. We were raised on fear. Fear of speaking out against the leaders or believing something other than what we were supposed to. Everyone on that compound has a job too. You work for the leaders in some way, supporting everyone else. Farming, practicing law, doctors, we had it all.”

  “It makes a lot of sense. The way you interact. How you first acted toward people when you first showed up at Topsy Turvy. You were literally learning how life outside those walls worked.”

  “Was I that weird?”

  “Honestly, you were pretty strange. I accepted it because weird is my thing, and you started to grow on me.” I pause quickly before my next thought hits. “Wait, so you didn’t get to do all the normal kid things growing up? Sneaking out late at night, throwing parties, any of it?”

  “Nope, my parents were fairly strict. Don’t get me wrong, I snuck out and hung with friends every once in a while. Some of the guys would grab their parents’ liquor stashes and we’d sneak out into the fields late at night and drink. Always had to be in bed by the time your parents woke up in the morning. Else your hide got tanned. My parents had my whole life planned out for me, but I wanted more.”

  “What do you mean by more?”

  He rakes his fingers through his dark brown hair. “I didnt want to be told how to live my life and who to marry. I wanted to find someone, fall in love, and have kids. I didn’t want to be forced to be a husband to more than one woman. My town was like its own mini cult. You did what you were told. Marrying who you were told. It wasn’t just a religion there, it was a lifestyle. You followed the teachings. You played by the rules, or you dealt with the religious justice mafia. That’s what they called themselves.”

  He sighs. “Making furniture was a fun side job, but that’s about the only part of my previous life I enjoyed. I wanted to see other places. Live a little.”

  I shove another spoonful of eggs into my face like a fat kid eating cake. It’s fascinating hearing about this way of life. I thought I was rebellious, they’d surely throw me in purgatory for my life choices. “And moving here… was it worth it?”

  “Sure was. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have met you, and we wouldn’t be here now. So yeah, definitely worth it.”

  Cue the swooning and dopey grin. I can’t help it. He’s making me cave, and damn it, I really want to.

  Shut it down, Mia. Stop the swoon. Stop the swoon NOW!

  “Do you ever want to go back?”

  “Nope. Nothing left for me there. Truth is, I was always an outsider. As soon as I left, it felt like a weight lifted off my chest. Couldn’t tell them I was leaving, or the justice mafia would make it difficult, so that didn’t happen. I snuck out one night with just a duffle bag knowing I’d never be welcome again. For once, something made sense, leaving the compound behind.”

  “So, you’ll never see your family again?”

  “Probably not. They didn’t seem to see me even when I was standing right in front of them. You were expected to be seen and not heard. To obey no matter what you thought. I was never a child. I was an instrument to be used. To be cultivated into the perfect believer and the second, I questioned something I was smacked down for voicing it.”

  Sadness consumes me, and I blink away the quickly forming tears. My heart hurts for him. I can see the pain behind his eyes as he talks about his family and what he’s left behind. I believe he truly is happy, but at the same time, I can tell it bothers him. I don’t feel emotions. I’ve spent so much time shutting them from my life that I appear to be losing my damn mind. I’ve cried more times in the last day than over the last three years of my life.

  “I’m sorry for what you�
�ve been through, Brooks. I guess you could say my childhood was similar. They never cared about me a day in my life. It says a lot about your parents when they flat out tell you they didn’t want you. Going day to day wondering if you’ll get fed or if you’ll have a roof over your head. My parents only cared about money and what it could buy them. My father spent the money he did have cheating on my mother with every other Betty in town.”

  A weight sits on my chest talking about it. The memories hurt. The feelings swarm me.

  “I’ve always been an afterthought. Shoved around, forgotten. I can’t even remember a day when my parents were ever happy together. A day when they weren’t threatening each other with bodily harm or my mother going into her room to dose herself with her new brand of illegal medication for the week… ” A shiver tears up my back thinking about every time my mother had gotten so high. The things she said…

  “Well, I don’t know your parents, but it sounds like they’re a couple of idiots. I want you, Mia. You are wanted very much, so don’t keep thinking for a day that you aren’t. You’re… important to me.”

  I muster up a smile as he stares at me with those soulful chocolate-colored eyes. “You like me as more than a friend and roommate, as more than just a teacher, don’t you, Brooks?”

  “What was your first guess?”

  “Besides the dragon in your pants… No one has ever willingly treated me like something more than a doormat. Most people only want something from me. I mean, I guess you want sex lessons from me, but something about you is different. You’re the first person who’s made me feel like I’m worth anything at all. Like I’m a human being. Someone you want to be around. It’s like you care for me.” He chuckles, but it’s not hardy. Before I can pull away, he reaches up and rubs his calloused thumb against my cheekbone, making me look up and get lost in those dark brown eyes.

  “Why don’t you really believe in love, Mia? Why don’t you kiss people? Why hide away under your brightly colored hair and gothic clothing facade? Who was it that wrecked your whole entire world? Let you down? Crushed your spirit? Your parents were clearly idiots, but someone did this to you. Someone did this to you, and I want to crush them for you.”