Devon

by Leanne Davis

  She’s sprawled all over me again. She starts to move, pulling her shoulders up as she lifts her head. I tighten my arms around her. I want to keep her close to me. My heart beats hard at that unexpected realization. Warmth fills every part of me until it’s overwhelming and almost embarrassing for me to want her so much. Yet, I have no words to describe my thoughts. I don’t know how to explain what I feel. I don’t want to explain it. Her weight on me feels heavenly, making me warm, content, relaxed, and invigorated. I am safe and being cared for.

  Fuck. Since when do I care about those things? Sex is a biological release for me. A hot, easy avenue to make me forget about my ordinary life. I don’t think about how boring or lonely or dull or unfair my life is. I am still working out the shitshow of my cursed relationship with Ireena.

  I don’t like to cuddle and hold my partner. But I want to hold her.

  It’s overwhelming.

  And it’s with Claudia.

  I don’t know what to do now. Or what to say. Now that it’s daylight and I’m not drunk, I have nothing to blame it on. Blame isn’t the right word. I just want whatever this is. I want and need to nurture this. But how can I live with that? How do we return to work and sit in offices beside each other? After I felt her whole body, inside and outside, and all I can think of is her mouth pressed tightly on mine? How do we go back to what we had before? I’m not prepared to go forward yet.

  My indecision plagues me. How could I let it advance to this point?

  And why does it feel so damn good? And important? And so much more than just sexual? It’s all new and exciting, something we never enjoyed together. It’s all about us. And how we can please each other. How do we make this “ours”? It seems so easy and uncomplicated. It never stopped existing and that’s the beauty of it. In all honesty, when Ireena cheated with Damion, I knew without ever asking her that Claudia would support me one hundred percent. She always takes my side. There was no need to discuss where her loyalty lies. With me. That’s how it’s always been, Claudia came into my life like a generous gift. She complements me and I her. We’re also best friends. Like a team. How could sex possibly enter the equation?

  I almost groan at the realization. Our primary connection originated in childhood. Our longevity came from knowing each other so well, warts and all, and went far beyond. It wasn’t about sex ever. Sex was reserved for the girls who didn’t know all those things about me.

  My doubts swirl in my brain, and I hide behind my denial. I can’t let her go. We lie side-by-side for a long time. I don’t dare loosen my grip to avoid her searching eyes and inevitable questions. Smiles of confusion, or smiles of knowing, accompanied by a punch on the shoulder. Are we now at the level of friends with benefits? Bed-buddies?

  I shudder. We aren’t that. No way will I ever dial Claudia up for a fucking booty call at midnight. I can’t even picture that. She’s not anything like that to me. And I know I’m not that to her either. I value her impression of me and respect it. She is a cherished member of the opposite sex that I have a connection with and quite possibly, a long-term relationship. That damn trap called sex and romance ruins everything. People act differently. Both parties try to share the better parts of themselves, instead of just being honest. Honesty is something I have always valued and relied on with Claudia.

  I can’t believe we ruined all that by doing this. And then we did it again.

  Now, I can’t let her go.

  I dread the moment when reality dawns on both of us. We’ll have to find a new normal. A new us. A different way to be together. I don’t want to change this, but I also need Claudia’s friendship and support. Since we’ve done this, I wonder how that will work.

  Lying in bed and clutching each other for what seems like hours, the room begins to grow warmer as the morning sunlight beams rays of heat in a wide band across the bed and over us. When I open my eyes, it’s quite blinding. The heat and humidity trapped between us increase until she pushes away from me, and I let her. A sheen of sweat covers our skin as we continue to hold each other.

  She ducks her head as she wrestles free of me and the covers.

  “I think I’ll take a shower. I could use some coffee, too.” Yeah, I’m talking although I try not to look at her. I don’t even glance her way. Scurrying into my bathroom like a scared freshman, I pretend my concentration is on the damn door. It’s definitely one of my least graceful morning afters. I’m overwhelmed. I don’t want to dismiss her. I don’t want her to go. Which is new, and shudders of worry make my spine tremble.

  But now I don’t know what to do about her being here either.

  So I let the shower run forever as the steam and water erase the sting of yesterday. The image of Ireena and Damion and my family’s acceptance of them still makes me bristle. The only one who was ever completely on my side is Claudia. No matter what. Her concern never ceases in her effort to get me back on track. I didn’t fail to notice her anxiety over how I was feeling at the party. She even stayed with me although I warned her not to.

  She’s a true warrior when it comes to me. And I know it. I treasure it now. I even made love to her for being so strong.

  But why would she believe I didn’t think she was pretty or hot or had a good figure? I think she has everything in spades. The essence and ideal of beauty, friendship, honesty, and caring. She’s all that. She’s the critical factor in my life, meaning, no one else is like her. I can’t believe we morphed into this new connection with so little warning or thought or planning. How do we go from what happened yesterday and arguing about the easily forgotten woman in my bed to her becoming the woman I prefer to share my bed with? I don’t know what to do about it. Being brave and mature doesn’t come naturally to me lately. I scrub off last night’s haze and try to refresh my brain. My thoughts have to be clearer before I can face this logically.

  It was just sex, after all.

  But sex has never felt so good.

  Chapter 5

  CLAUDIA

  I am in Devon’s kitchen, wearing one of his sweatshirts, making coffee. I move around it as easily as I do in my own kitchen, it’s so familiar to me. Sunlight glints off the Columbia River, blinding me through the open shades of the living room. It makes the room so bright and alive, highlighting each detail exquisitely in the clean, white light of the almost-spring sun. I smile as I stare out, my thoughts are everywhere and nowhere. I have so many things to think about. I want to dance and sing and spin in circles. I want to squeeze Devon and discuss everything I’m thinking and feeling. I want to dissect and analyze the most amazing sex and connection to another human being I’ve ever had. I always hoped, but never dared to dream it could be like that. And most of all, I want to do it again.

  It makes me smile, and my heart does cartwheels inside my chest. I’ve waited so long and it was so much better than I imagined. My heart swells when I recall how warmly he held me this morning, both during and after sex. His embrace was tight, intense, and new. It felt almost needy. We connected in the usual ways we do, verbally and in support of one another, but never before did we express ourselves with touch. Oh, my God. The touching connection is the deepest and most passionate of all.

  I sip my coffee, staring out at the river and watching the few people meandering on the walking path. It looks cold, but nevertheless, inviting. I press my forehead against the window, letting the sunlight warm me. This is the best I could ever feel. Making love to someone you trust and connect with is a thousand times more intensely satisfying than someone you don’t want to even talk to in the morning. Duh! It makes so much sense to me now.

  I turn when Devon comes out, dressed in black joggers and a sweatshirt. He looks taller, and more appealing and slightly different to me. I relive the thrill of his sensual mouth under mine, and his hands, so soft and caring, yet strong, sure, and confident. I love how he commands me and guides me to what he likes. I grow wet just thinking about it and start swelling with desire. Wow, this is potent stuff. Loving the personality wh
ile being irresistibly attracted to the package is new for me. I love the way my body responds to my thoughts.

  He grabs a cup of the freshly made coffee and drinks most of it before walking over to the couch and flopping down on it. He sets his mug on the ottoman and leans forward and begins rubbing his temples. I smile. Perhaps he’ll consider drinking less, partying less, and spending more time with me. He doesn’t have to devote every weekend to feeling so drained and miserable.

  I walk over and flop down right beside him. He doesn’t turn towards me but he doesn’t move away either. He’s feeling uncomfortable and unsure. I know Devon so well. He has no idea how to deal with me now that our entire dynamic has shifted. It’s exactly how I expect him to be. Kind of confused and cold and then not. It is so perplexing. He’ll just have to get used to this latest development in our friendship. Right as I predicted. I slip my arm through his and lean my head against his firm bicep. He rests his chin on the top of my head. Most likely, he has a puzzled look on his face. I almost giggle out loud picturing it, but bite my lip to keep it in check. Tilting my head up so he glances down and meets my gaze, I ask, “Do you want me to go?”

  “No.” His forehead wrinkles. “No. I really don’t want you to leave.”

  I smile and stretch out before grinning like a Cheshire cat. That is so huge. He can’t articulate the reason why he wants me to stay, but saying he does not want me to leave is the best sign right now. He freaked out because he doesn’t handle change well, but I perceive this change will be a huge one for him to get used to.

  “Well, good. You have no food in the house again. Perhaps we could work on that. It’s such a nice morning.” I grimace as I make a face. “More like the afternoon, should we walk the trail to Captain Joe’s?”

  He nods, almost hopping to his feet. He is obviously glad to make some kind of a move, if only for us to have something to do. Now we have a destination and a goal. Which is exactly why I suggested it. It’s all for Devon. He goes to his bedroom and returns with a coat.

  “Do you mind if I get dressed first?”

  Startled, he glances at my face, then looks down at my legs. “Oh, duh. Sure.”

  I rise up on my tiptoes, setting one hand on his forearm and tugging him downwards so I can plant a small kiss on his mouth. “It’ll get easier,” I say with a knowing grin. He ducks his head and it thrills me to see he’s so confused and embarrassed. I believe it’s because he does want me to stay here, but he’s not sure why.

  Moments later, we exit his condo and hit the trail. The sun is glaring. The March landscape is still leafless and barren, making the bright, cheerfully spotless, blue sky even more starkly brazen. The Columbia River shines and glimmers under the sunlight, a dark, intense navy blue against the harsh sunlight and cerulean blue sky. There are a few sailboats and motorboats on it this afternoon, but it isn’t yet crowded with salmon fisherman as fishing season hasn’t started yet. The absence of wind accounts for the scarcity of personal sailboats. It’s still pretty cold, however, as if March can’t decide whether it’s the end of winter and or the start of spring.

  The walkways and parks we pass are filled with people like us: singles, couples, and many people walking their dogs. Skateboarders and bicyclists occasionally breeze past us. Groups of teens linger on the beaches and walkways, seeking a place to hang that’s away from most adults. I can remember doing that with Devon and Damion so well. That was when I was in high school and they had just begun college. We believed we were so original and cool. Especially me. Being with the twins, who were three years older than me, made me appear more exciting and mysterious; it also elevated my status with my peers.

  Mount Hood is a large, white bump upriver that caps the horizon. It offers a spectacular view and my mood soars with the joy of all that’s happening to me right now. It feels like a dream come true. My professional goals are on track, and now perhaps both of my life’s ambitions are very close to coming true.

  I snuggle into my warm coat to keep the chill at barely forty degrees from stopping my enjoyment of the rare, clear, bright afternoon. Devon closes the gate that separates the landscaped grounds of his complex from the public walkway.

  As we stroll along, we pass the city planters where stalks of daffodils and tulips are pushing up through the dirt. Their green spikes seem ready to burst out in an array of vivid colors. My heart swells, and I know exactly what that feels like in this moment. On this day. This wonderful day, in which all my dreams could come true. I love today. We walk towards town. Two miles down the trail, we spot the coffee stand. We wander past the river and cottonwood trees that hug the riverbank. Across the river in Oregon are recent infrastructure developments: hotels, resorts, marinas, boat launches, and parks. It’s the same as on our side of the river. An entire city exists all around us, and the abundance of water, trees, parks, and wildlife makes it the best of all worlds.

  We order lunch. I ask for a hot chocolate and Devon orders a tall, black coffee. Both of us choose bagels with an array of sandwich toppings. He gulps his coffee down almost feverishly. The headache looms behind his eyes still, I’m sure. His pupils are a bit fuzzy and his eyes are hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses. My heart blips with joy because he looks so young, hot, and athletic and he’s all mine. I can’t believe this is happening. We sit down at one of the picnic tables that overlooks the rippling water from the light breeze.

  I nibble away at my bagel while Devon keeps fiddling with his hot cup of coffee and taking big bites from his bagel. He’s a lot quieter than he was when we first woke up. Of course, we were probably busier then.

  Despite the cold temperature, the sun feels warm when it radiates over my face and hands. I refuse to wear sunglasses; I want all that wonderful, necessary, and often neglected vitamin D to sink into my skin and be absorbed through my eyes. One of his hands is wrapped around his cup, the other is on the table. Feeling new and strange and exhilarated, I take the liberty of setting my hand over his and curling my fingertips into his fingers. He instantly responds, and we hold hands.

  “Do we tell the people at work? Or should we keep it quiet for a while?”

  His head turns towards me. I smile, because I really don’t know, and I’m unsure of his answer. Biting my lip, I realize how odd and hard and strange it feels to talk like a couple with him. I’m sure it must be weird for him, too. That’s probably why he seems so unsure. At least I knew I wanted us to be like this, even if he didn’t realize it.

  The past dizzying twenty-four hours have managed to flip all we were previously and everything we knew about each other on its head.

  “We should probably keep things separate.”

  Chilled to hear that, I know he’s right. There’s no reason to mention it at work. Besides the thrill of keeping it between us, and just us, well, that’s pretty appealing, too.

  “What about our parents? And the rest of our families?”

  He clears his throat. “Considering your dad is my boss, what do you think?”

  Right. But my dad also doesn’t have his head in the toilet when it comes to his daughters. He knows we aren’t virginal brides, patiently waiting for him to give us away as if we were his most cherished gifts to bestow on the world. He’s pretty low-key and amazing. He’s always allowed my sisters and me to live our lives however we see fit.

  But Devon’s probably correct; for him, it might be odd.

  “So, we should just keep it quiet?”

  “Yeah.” He nods. “That seems the best for now.”

  “Okay.” I shudder at the disappointment. A little voice asks, why does it have to be such a secret? We are two consenting adults. We work at autonomous jobs. I’m not sure there is any need for privacy.

  I nod and finish my meal. He’s quiet again, gazing out towards the water.

  He doesn’t say anything so I try to start a few conversations with little prompts or comments about work and some of the people we know. He answers are short and succinct with no attempt to keep the conver
sation going. We keep resorting to silence because he won’t participate so we end the lunch. He keeps fidgeting and glancing everywhere but directly at me. He slipped his hand from mine a long time ago, as if eating the simple sandwich required both of his hands and all of his concentration. He’s trying way too hard to ignore me.

  Now it all starts to sink in.

  His lack of talking and engaging and looking at me and not wanting anyone to know.

  He regrets what we did.

  That sits like an anchor on my brain for a moment until the truth becomes crystal clear to me. It feels as if he just punched me right in the guts.

  I push my empty cup and wrapper away and fold my hands beneath my elbows as I lean on the table. Sucking in a breath, I stare at his profile, memorizing it. My heart contorts with utter disappointment. I did this to myself. I refused to believe the truth.

  “The difference with us is you knew my name,” I finally gather the courage to state. Steeling my heart and soul, I clench my jaw. Grow up. Stay strong. Be real. Quit hiding from the glaring truth.

  Startled, he immediately turns towards me. Finally, I have his undivided and most interested attention. “What?”

  “The difference between waking up with me this morning and the woman you woke up with yesterday is that you know my name. But the rest of the women? Not any different, are they?”

  “I… of course, it’s different with you. You’re Claudia. I’ve known you my entire life. I work with you and for your father. I see you all the time. I care about you. I always have. Since we were little kids.”

  I smile and look down at my fingers as I clench the puffy sleeves of my coat. “Yes. Since we were kids. Never imagined this kind of stuff between us, huh? But it didn’t mean more with me than it did with that woman yesterday. Again, the only difference is that you know my name.”