Again With You

by E. H. Lyon

  I should lean her back and let my mouth dive between her legs to taste her. But we’ve both been waiting a long time for this. Too long.

  My fingers find the waistband of her leggings and I quickly pull them down, and her legs kick them off. Finding underwear, I bring the fabric to the side. She’s in satin. I let my fingers slide up and down her slit to feel how much she wants me in this very moment, my fingers getting covered in her arousal. She murmurs into my neck, and it is the sound of heaven.

  “You are so wet for me. You still feel so good, Ave—so good.” I groan as I slip my finger inside her to feel where I need to go, and it is the only destination I ever want.

  “Wet only for you. Always for you,” she pants. “Please, now,” she pleads again as her hand tightens over my boxer briefs.

  I’m not religious, but I owe someone a Hail Mary because I manage to grab a condom from my wallet in record time. As I am ripping the condom wrapper open with my teeth, I get a glimpse of Avery with her hair wild across her pink flushed face and her swollen lips. She is breathless from our intensity, and I am confident her watching me open the condom made her even wetter.

  But when our eyes meet, a thought crosses my mind, and it stops me in my tracks.

  The last time we were intimate was five years ago, in pure bliss when she was…

  we were…

  …and fuck my morals.

  I’m putting on the brakes.

  In that very moment, Avery uses that second of pause to also let her brain catch up and take in what we are about to do. Maybe she figures out where my mind went. I don’t know.

  We pull away from one another, looking at each other with heaving breaths and our foreheads touching, her arms still looped around my neck. She strokes my face with the back of her hand, and I grab her hand and kiss her palm. Letting my fingers then reach for her cheek to rub with my fingers.

  “Ave, we should tal—”

  Her finger shushes my lips. “I know, Jake. I know,” she whispers.

  We both wanted to go down this route, but we are both too wise to think we can do this.

  It takes a minute, but I bring her back down to earth by helping her back to standing.

  Throwing the unused condom to the side, I fasten my pants then let a hand drag through my hair, along with a deep sigh. We both slide down to the floor. Sitting on the tiles and leaning against the cupboards, we recover from our escalation on my kitchen counter.

  Avery begins to thread the top buttons of her lacy black top that should be banned for what it does to me.

  “Don’t do that,” I plead with a hitched voice.

  A half-smile appears on her face. “You’re in luck. I can’t. It seems you broke the buttons.”

  It makes me chuckle slightly with pride.

  “Jake, please, for my sanity, throw that shirt back on,” she implores with a tight-lipped smile as she tosses me my shirt that found its way to the floor. I smile to myself and oblige, pulling the shirt over my head.

  “This probably was not a great idea,” she comments.

  “Not a bad idea either.”

  “I guess not terrible,” she adds.

  “Definitely not horrible.”

  “More than okay?” she questions herself. My hand touches her thigh as she speaks. “We took a detour. Maybe we should forget this?”

  I can’t figure out her tone, but she is nibbling her lip. She seems unsure.

  “Maybe,” I tilt my head to the side, but then smile to myself. “Nah, I’m not going to.”

  We look at one another and both have a wry smile.

  “This was inevitable,” I say.

  A deep sigh escapes her. “I know.”

  We take another moment to allow what is happening between us to sink in. To register what is shifting.

  “Almost-sex with your ex on your kitchen counter. I’m hoping that you haven’t had to use that sentence before.” She offers me a funny look.

  I have to shake my head softly with her humor. But then I need to clarify. “You are more than an ex, you know that.”

  It’s why I stopped us.

  It catches her off guard. I hope she understands what I mean. She grabs my arm with my watch, and she brings my inner wrist to her lips. It is her way of telling me she understands. Yet, I still wonder what I am to her.

  After placing a gentle kiss, she holds my wrist a few extra moments before releasing it.

  “I should go.”

  “Don’t do that either. What about that drink?”

  She tilts her head side to side. “That’s not always innocent with you, but sure.”

  We slowly drag our bodies off the floor and our eyes hold each other’s gaze. My eyes do not leave her as I grab two mugs. Her face tells me she is slightly humored by this whole situation, which is a good thing, as I don’t need her to have a reason to avoid me.

  Admittedly, I fucked up a little. I took things a step too far there. I had to take us down that memory lane, because a voice in me could not resist knowing if she still thinks about us or remembers.

  It was not my greatest of moves. Yet, I do not regret it.

  After that summer, I tried hard to forget her. But the women I tried hard with; the voltage level was just too low compared to the electricity that I shared with Avery. None of them could give that surge of lust that I had with her and I still have with her.

  That connection.

  Something tells me our conversation is finally going to go to the place that we have been avoiding, and I need to be the guy she can depend on. No matter how this goes, I have to be the stronger one in this situation. At least if we really are going to have this talk. No tricks or sidetracks.

  I walk to her and hand her a mug as she looks out my back sliding door.

  “It’s really beautiful here,” she comments as she admires the forest behind my house.

  “Definitely different to the city, that’s for sure. We will have to walk the trail another time. It is great. I do trail runs there with Nate or I meet Leo or Lucas with their kids.”

  “Makes sense. Even when you work a lot, you make time for people. That I know.”

  “True. And if I recall, making time for you was well worth it,” I confess as I lean against the glass door.

  She looks at me. “We had a lot of good times,” she reflects. She hits me playfully. “We were good together in the bedroom,” she admits with her eyes roaming me. Perhaps too suggestively. She walks to the couch and I follow.

  “And the kitchen counter, the living room floor, the hallway wall, the elevator, the shower…” I list, and she giggles.

  I add as we both sit down, “Mastered the art of lying in bed and talking too.”

  Her face turns slightly elated. “Yeah. Yeah, we did.” She bites her lip. “We didn’t end because we weren’t good together.”

  Our bodies move closer to one another, like they are two puzzle pieces meant to fit.

  “I know. It was just timing and life throwing us a curveball as the reason we ended,” I explain. She nods.

  And before we get more comfortable on the couch, I need to ask. “Want something stronger?” I offer. I sure as hell need it.

  “Yes.” It comes out neutral.

  I go to the kitchen to find wine and glasses. It’s an open-plan living area, so I show her a bottle of white and she gives me an agreeing look. Quickly, I make my way back to her.

  “Your kitchen looks like it’s a dream for cooking,” she admires as she takes her wine glass from my hand.

  “I don’t really use the kitchen much. Mostly order in.”

  She offers a warm smile. “Sounds like the typical bachelor life. What do you order?”

  “The Chinese restaurant knows me by first name, fairly positive the Thai one too. That one place you loved in the city actually delivers next day here via a special ice box or something. Haven’t tried it yet though.”

  “The one with the hot dogs and Italian subs? Uh, those were so good,” she reminisces.


  “Yeah. We should try one day. I remember how much you loved the hot dogs but couldn’t stand the smell when you were pre—” I stop mid-sentence and realize what I was just about to say. My eyes slowly close then reopen as her face fades to neutral.

  And just like that, there we are.

  The conversation we were waiting for.

  We both lean against the back of the brown leather sofa with wine in hand, and our faces turn to one another.

  Avery lets out a breath. “You mean when I was pregnant?”

  It isn’t a question; it’s a fact, and I nod softly.

  “It’s okay, we can’t tiptoe around it forever. It’s what we were going to talk about anyways, right?” She looks at me blankly.

  Taking her glass out of her hand, I place it with mine on the coffee table. Immediately pulling her to me and wrapping my arms around her.

  Avery isn’t just an ex; she is the one who I share the biggest connection in life with.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jake

  Seeing her again and it’s as clear as day, that summer.

  She had texted me that she needed me to come back to my apartment right away. It was the middle of the day and I needed to be at the office as I had just landed my biggest client up to that point of my career.

  But somehow, I knew I needed to go home. It felt urgent. I casually walked into my kitchen, asking her what couldn’t wait, and I stopped mid-sentence when I saw Avery distraught. My eyes looked to what her eyes were fixated on, and there was a row of tests on the counter. All positive.

  Suddenly, we were two people who had to put their lust on the backburner, because we had an unexpected predicament and every brain cell in our heads was laser focused on every decision. Looking back, it shouldn’t have been such a surprise; for being two smart people, we weren’t that careful.

  But it’s that one memory that gets to me every time. A glimpse of what could have been.

  Sitting on the edge of my bed, I loosen my tie and begin to unbutton my sleeves, admiring the latest ultrasound photo on my dresser.

  This wasn’t planned, and it wasn’t until we heard the heartbeat that it hit us—we are going to do this.

  My eyes turn to Avery who stands in my doorway. She just got back from work and basically almost lives here. Even I know those tight pencil skirts are on their final days as she wears a blouse to cover her stomach. Avery has not been able to stomach much lately and has been doing her best to hide it at work. I get it. I work in corporate law and see enough cases where pregnancy of an employee played a role. The world has strides to make.

  I wave my hands to indicate for her to come to me. When she is within distance, I grab her hand to hold and wheel her around, so she’s sitting on my lap. Her arms wrap around my neck.

  “Everything okay?” I mumble as I kiss her shoulder.

  She kisses my cheek. “Yeah, only a little dizzy today.” Immediately, I’m on full alert and adjust my body so I can look at her. Study her. Examine her.

  “Do you want me to get you something? You took the vitamins?” I begin, and she has to laugh.

  “Relax, Counselor, yes, taking the vitamins, eating well, sleeping more, and we are having only gentle sex, per your insistence,” Avery assures me with a smile. “It will be fine.”

  “I know it took you awhile to adjust to this news, I mean, it wasn’t exactly planned. But we will make it work. You can move in here; we will live here or find a place—”

  “Jake. I love your positivity, but it’s also okay to acknowledge that this really wasn’t planned, like, at all, and if it hadn’t happened, then we wouldn’t be moving in together now,” she admits but with ease. Because it’s true. It was only supposed to be the summer. In fact, her time in Chicago was supposed to end next week as her project finishes. Long-distance would have been near impossible for us due to our work schedules, and unless I pass the California bar, then my work remains in Chicago.

  Cradling her head with my hands to ensure she looks at me, my grin gives her a warning. “Avery. Does it look like I am complaining about this unexpected turn of events?” I raise my eyebrows and graze her cheek and neck with my lips. She shakes her head no. “Come away with me. Next weekend, before we start to tell everyone we’re together, let alone having a baby, let’s head up to Wisconsin for the weekend.” The way I say it hopefully sends excitement through her, and my eyes are inviting and warm, because we need to talk about us, and I want to surprise her.

  She nods her head yes with a sparkle in her eye.

  “You’re in the middle of your biggest case yet, and you want to go away for the weekend? What have I done to you?” she teases me.

  Kissing her neck, I tell her, “A lot, you have done a lot to me.”

  “Mmm, sounds like you’re getting frisky. Let me take a shower, okay?”

  I nod. “Sure, I’ll join you in a sec.” I reluctantly let her move off me and watch her walk away.

  When she’s out of sight, I walk to my dresser drawer, pull it open, and look at the small black box with a ring inside before setting it back in my drawer in a place I know Avery won’t find it. She will see it this weekend when we go away because I plan to tell her I love her and want her to be my wife.

  I should have already told her, but our heads have been everywhere, and I don’t want her to feel like I’m asking her just because she’s pregnant. She deserves a romantic gesture, because she is everything that I didn’t know I was looking for.

  Smiling to myself, I continue to take off my shirt and throw it to the other side of the room. But as I walk towards the bathroom, I already sense something is different.

  Avery

  I’ve been avoiding this exact conversation all week—well, five years, really. But I knew it was our eventual topic of discussion at some point. Just didn’t think post-almost-sex was going to be the way to get us there. But you know, that’s okay, because it makes this slightly more comfortable.

  This talk. I owe it to him. I owe it to myself.

  I interlace our arms as we look forward. I need to begin somewhere.

  “It’s why you stopped, isn’t it? In the kitchen, I mean. You remembered the last time we were together like that was when I was pregnant.”

  A deep sigh escapes him.

  “Yeah,” he replies, and it’s simple. His face turns serious. “Just… we should talk about it. You haven’t mentioned it once yet.”

  “Why haven’t you brought it up?”

  He ponders how to explain. “I was waiting. I felt it had to come from you. I don’t know how you coped with it in the end and I didn’t want to pressure you to talk about it.”

  Looking at him, I don’t know what to say.

  I sigh. “We met in May, by July we knew we knew were already pregnant, and by the beginning of September, it was all over. We were unexpectedly going to be parents together, but life had other plans for us, for him.” Jake grabs my hands to hold and kisses my palm as he interlaces our fingers.

  I continue. “Everyone handles it differently. Views it differently. Nobody knows except you, and maybe that’s why when I saw you, my head went into an immediate spin, because there you were, and with you, I can be open about it. I’m not used to that.”

  “I already guessed that, doesn’t take a psychologist to figure it out. And I didn’t tell anyone either.” After a prolonged pause, he asks, “How do you view it?”

  I consider what to say and bite my lip as I collect my thoughts. Tears well in my eyes, but then I say honestly, “As a beautiful surprise that wasn’t meant to be.”

  Jake kisses the top of my head and lets his fingers stroke my hair.

  “I think so too,” he whispers. We let our statements sink in for a minute. “And how did you cope with it?”

  “Well, I didn’t at first. I mean, I ran away from you; doesn’t that say enough?” I look at him. “But I buried myself in work, went to a yoga healing retreat that was borderline cultish and most definitely failed on the healing
front. Baked a lot more. Actually, maybe it gave me the drive to bake more. It’s maybe ironic, I used your legal advice of how to negotiate a deal when I left the agency. Like we talked about when I was pregnant, since we knew I was going to have to leave the agency to move to Chicago permanently. Well, I used that advice to help me leave, and now I am here where you are.”

  A look that I can’t figure out overcomes him. Sadness or contentment.

  “I worked a lot too,” he admits softly, “put everything into that case and won big. But I moved here because being in Chicago just reminded me too much of, well…”

  Now I return a look similar to what he gave me a few moments before.

  “Do you ever think about what life would be like if it hadn’t happened?” I lean my head against his shoulder as I Iook forward.

  Jake leans back on the sofa and his thumb rubs his upper lip. “Sometimes. I tucked it in the back of my head, what happened. I think about what life would be like now if he was born… our last five years would have looked different, that’s for sure. Seeing you again definitely puts it all in the front of my head again,” Jake confesses in a neutral tone, as if he has stripped all emotion from the memory.

  There’s a pause.

  “I think about it more than I should,” I explain. “What our life would have looked like, I mean...” I can’t finish, as another tear falls.

  He holds me closer as we soak in a minute of quiet. I try to picture what must be in his head. It maybe aligns with my thoughts. Before I think of the life we could have built, I snap back to the present.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t handle it well,” I acknowledge. I said nothing for days, yet Jake held me endlessly. When we got the news, we both had tears. Based on blood work, we learned he was a boy. There was no explanation of why, other than it felt unfair; at 14 weeks, we should have been in the clear. Jake, after a minute, shook himself out of it, and like a light switch, he put on a strong demeanor to take care of me. He remained controlled and did his best to support me.