Rekindle

by Ashley Suzanne

  Together, we walk out of the diner and walk in separate directions. This isn’t how I pictured the rest of this night going. All I want to do is crawl back inside Tina’s body and enjoy the feel of her, and instead I’m going home and will have to jerk off to those thoughts.

  Jones pulls in my driveway and I quickly tell him goodbye and thanks for the ride as I all but run out of the car and inside the house. Falling back on the couch, I pull my phone out to text Tina when I see I already have one waiting from her.

  TINA: Talk tmrw?

  Talk? She wants to talk? Jesus Christ, women and their wanting to talk about every emotion and action. Life would be so much easier if they’d just roll with the punches like guys do. We’re by far the less complicated sex, I promise you that much.

  ME: I can be there in ten if you wanna talk now

  And I do not mean talk. I’m thinking more along the lines of fucking her so hard her eyes roll back in her head and she can’t form a coherent thought for days. That sounds like the perfect kind of talking if you ask me.

  TINA: Probably not a good idea. We could have made a huge mistake tonight

  ME: Huge mistake? Like having sex? I’m pretty sure we did that. It would be better if we could come though

  TINA: Nick ….

  ME: Tina …

  TINA: Goodnight. Call me in the morning.

  ME: How about I’ll see you in the morning.

  She never responds to my last message and I’m not sure if she’s okay with me coming by or if it’s some woman code for ‘if you fucking come here, I’ll bite your dick off’, but I can’t lie and say the thought of her mouth on my dick doesn’t have me hard and ready to go, even with the possibility of impending damage to my member.

  Resting my head back on the cushions, I pull my dick out and begin stroking. As soon as Tina’s scent hits my nostrils, I lose myself in the memory of a few hours ago. The only way it could have been better is if she were still pissed when she sat on my dick. Remembering how tight and snug her pussy was, I stab my hips upward and come in less than two minutes.

  I run a quick shower, because the smell of Tina will only drive me crazy through the night, and walk upstairs to bed. Falling onto the mattress, I wonder what’s going to happen tomorrow when we talk. I hope there’s more fucking and less chatting. We have a lot of time to make up for.

  CHAPTER TEN

  TINA

  “What the fuck was I thinking, Lacy?” I ask, my voice muffled by the pillow I’m trying to suffocate myself with.

  “Was it good?” she giggles.

  “Lacy! Come on. What am I going to do now?”

  “What do you wanna do?”

  “Well, I thought I wanted to go about my life and find someone who isn’t so closed off. But now I’m fucked. Literally fucked. I can’t let him back in. Not until he’s faced whatever happened to him after Tim.”

  “Well, sweetie, I hate to break it to you, but you already let him back in. Give me the details. Where’d you let him back in at?”

  “Dammit, Lace,” I groan. Now that she’s not dating my ex-husband’s best friend, she’s all about sharing details. If I hear one more time about how big Carl’s dick is and how he fucks her against a wall, I’m going to scream. Since she knew how close I was with Tim, she knew better. Now, I can’t get her to shut up. And apparently Nick’s dick is on the table for discussion, too. “The bathroom. The fucking bathroom, like we were kids or something.”

  “Oh, was it in the shower? No, I bet it was on the counter. Tell me. I need some new ideas,” she squeals.

  “Well, we were standing up and I think I climbed up him like a damn monkey. Then he sat on the toilet lid and I kind of …” My cheeks flush at the details and how brazen I was with Nick. Not that we had a boring sex life when we were married, I had just never taken the initiative like I had tonight.

  “You little whore, you. I’ve never been more proud to call you my best friend.”

  “Can you just tell me what to do now? How do I make it so it’s not awkward? I told him I’d call him in the morning, but I have no idea what to say.” Back to the pillow, I smother my face into the covered down feathers and pray for God to take me.

  “Well, that really depends, sweetie,” Lacy responds, her voice more to the level of what I need. A helpful friend. Someone who will tell me I’ve fucked up and how to fix it before everything gets out of hand. “Do you want to try again with Nick?”

  “I don’t think so. He’s not ready for that and I don’t think I’m ready to go back to how everything was when I left,” I admit.

  “Seems like you’ve already made up your mind. What do you need me for?”

  “How do I make it so we’re not at that weird stage again? Do you remember how strange everything was when I filed the papers?”

  “I do. But I also remember how sad you were and how defeated he was. You know I love you, Tina, but I have to say this because I haven’t said it before.” I sit up straight, bracing myself for whatever she has to say. Lacy’s always been frank with me and the idea she’s somehow left something out or not called me on my shit has me worried. What if I’ve made an even bigger mistake and she just let me do it? Not that it would be her fault, but no matter what’s happened in my life, Lacy’s advice has always been golden.

  “Men and women process things differently. Women talk about what’s going on, find ways to fix things. That’s just what we do,” she starts and I find myself nodding along with her analysis of behaviors based on sex. “Men are so much different. I know how frustrated you were with Nick, hell, I would have felt the same way, but he needed time. Maybe he’s over everything.”

  “No, he’s not. You didn’t see him at Tim’s thing a few weeks ago. He was holding my hand, squeezing the life out of it, all the while holding Dakota’s and taking away her sadness. He’s holding back so much, and he just needs to let me in …” Lacy stops me mid-sentence and cuts me pretty deep.

  “I don’t think Nick’s the one who needs to let anyone in. I think you might have to let go of the notion you need to fix everything. Nick lost his best friend. Can you imagine how you’d react if you lost me?” she asks and my heart beats faster at just the thought of not having Lacy in my life.

  “I can’t even think about that. I’d be lost without you.” I feel tears welling up in my eyes and I shove them aside.

  “And that’s how Nick felt losing Tim. He loved Tim just as much as you love me. The only difference is you’d want to talk about your feelings and he’s more comfortable getting through it alone.”

  “Did I make a mistake divorcing him?” I ask, fearful of her answer.

  “No, honey, I don’t think you made a mistake divorcing him. You weren’t happy. He wasn’t happy. You would have ended up hurting each other and yourselves so much more. You did the right thing. And I can’t make all the excuses for him. Nick didn’t fight for your marriage. I know you. If he would have asked for another chance you would have given him one, but he didn’t. You might have filed the papers, but he was right there with you throughout the whole thing. He could have stopped it had he wanted to.”

  “It’s gonna be really awkward again,” I state, not needing a response.

  “Yes. It will be,” she responds anyway.

  “There’s not much I can do, is there?”

  “Probably not. Talking about it might help, but keep in mind, it might not. You know Nick better than anyone else.” That’s the truest thing she’s ever said. I do know him, sometimes better than he knows himself. There’s no easy way around it. I have to put a stop to this. Nick and I can’t be intimate. There’s just too much there. Way too much history to go from married, to divorced, to lovers. I’ll always want more and like Lacy said, if he still wanted to be in a relationship with me, he would have fought.

  “Thanks for everything, Lacy.”

  “You never have to thank me, baby. I’m always here. Day or night, that’s what sisters are for.” We may not be related by bloodline
s, but Lacy’s just as much my sister if we were.

  “I’m gonna go to sleep, try to think about what to say to Nick in the morning. I love you.”

  “Love you right back. Night.”

  “Night.” I disconnect the call and stare at the last text I received from Nick.

  ME: How about I’ll see you in the morning.

  I debate texting him back, asking him to not come over, but maybe a face to face conversation would be best. Then again, if our desires get the better of us again, we’ll be in the same situation the following date. Locking the screen, I toss the phone on the floor next to the mattress and curl up in a ball in the center of the bed. Pulling the blankets up to my chin, I close my eyes and fall asleep somewhere between thinking about what to say to Nick and how amazing it felt to be with him again.

  *****

  Waking up the next morning, I’m not even a little shocked that I already have a missed call from Nick. And one from my mother, I should point out. That woman, I swear she’s psychic—having all kinds of abilities to know what’s going on in my life without me having to tell her a single thing. Needing a little more time to think about what to do about Nick, I return my mom’s call first, and of course, she answers on the first ring.

  “I was starting to worry, Chrissy. I haven’t talked to you in weeks,” she starts in on her guilt trip the moment the line connects.

  “Good morning, Mother. It’s not been weeks. Maybe a few days,” I grumble, walking into the kitchen and starting the coffee pot. I might not have any food to speak of, but coffee I have in droves.

  “Feels like longer. How’s everything going in the new apartment? You like it? You know you could have moved home with Daddy and me. We would love to have you back.”

  “Ma, I know you would have, but there’s just something wrong with a grown, adult woman moving back home, especially when she can afford to live on her own. But thank you for the offer. The place is nice, but I’ve not even been here twenty-four hours yet.”

  “Well, I called because Daddy and I want you to come to dinner tonight, that is if you have time in your busy schedule for your parents.” You’d think we were Catholic by all the guilt she lays on me, but I can’t really blame her. Since I moved out, I rarely go home as much as I should. The least I can do is throw her a bone and go to a simple dinner.

  “I can do that, Ma. I’m not on until tomorrow afternoon. Need me to bring anything?”

  “Just you. Love you, Chrissy.” I cringe every time she calls me that. I’d correct her … again … I’m just not sure anything would come of it other than me wasting my breath.

  “Love you, Ma.” Hanging up the phone, I sit on the couch with my coffee in hand, staring at Nick’s name in my call log. If I don’t call him back soon, he’s going to show up here.

  I can only imagine how confusing this is for him. I mean, I all but threw myself at him last night. I don’t know what he’s going to want from me. Get back together? Be fuck buddies? Casual encounters? Nothing at all? Not to mention, I have no idea what I want from him. I don’t think I want anything at all, but I miss him so much. I worry—like really worry—that I miss him so much I’d be willing to take anything he was willing to offer me, no matter how much it hurt to be less than what we were before.

  Taking a few deep breaths to calm my nerves, I return Nick’s missed call. After the first two rings, I almost chicken out and hang up, yet I stay strong and wait for his gravelly tone to come across the other side of the line.

  “Hey there,” he says, my heart beating faster just from the sound of his voice.

  “Hi,” I breathe, letting go of the breath I didn’t know I was holding. “You called?” Of course he called. What are you, fifteen calling a boy for the first time? Get your shit together.

  “I did. Wanted to see if you wanted to go to breakfast, but since it’s almost noon, how about lunch?” Pulling the phone away from my ear, I illuminate the screen and groan when I see the time. Since as long as I can remember, even as a teenager, I never slept late, it just wasn’t in me. Now all of a sudden, I’m having reckless sex with my ex-husband and sleeping in. Maybe there’s something in the water at 22?

  “That sounds nice, but I’ve got dinner at my mom’s in a few hours. You know how she is. If I’m not in perfect condition, she gives me shit. Rain check?” I ask, never having been so grateful to go to my mother’s. Tomorrow afternoon, I’ll be on shift with Nick for two entire days with no space whatsoever. I need to take what I can get while I can get it.

  “How about I come with you?” he asks, causing me to choke on my own saliva. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen your parents.”

  “I’m not sure. Probably would give them the wrong idea, ya know?” Please know.

  “It’ll be fine, Tina. I’ll pick you up at four. Wouldn’t want to be late and have her up my ass. Wear that grey dress and we’ll go get drinks after dinner.” He doesn’t give me a chance to protest and the line goes dead. I try to call him back, but his phone goes straight to voicemail. Motherfucker turned his phone off.

  Breaking out in a sweat, I send him a text asking him not to come. If his phone’s off, he won’t get it, so that’s pretty pointless. I wonder if I leave before he gets here, if he’ll let it go, but knowing Nick, he’ll just show up. Fan-fucking-tastic. Dinner with my parents and my ex. Nothing can go wrong. We’ll be like one big happy family again.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  NICK

  What in the actual fuck am I thinking? Dinner with her family? I’d planned on calling her, going to breakfast, maybe going back to her place to finish what we started the night before, but now … dinner … with her folks … I’m fucked.

  Her father never liked me to begin with and her mom tolerated me because Christina loved me. I knew the score and I was okay with it. Secretly, I hoped I would be the same way if I ever had a daughter—wishing death nightly to the man stealing away my little girl. And Tina would be just like her mother—being a shoulder to lean on if needed and if not, she’d put on a happy face to keep her daughter happy.

  But what’s to stop Mr. Mitchell from killing me on the spot? Nothing, that’s what. I’m sure he’s had vivid dreams in the past about castrating me, and now he’ll have the option, and Tina won’t stop him. Or would she? Maybe?

  I’m going to need a drink or five. I remind myself I can’t get drunk. I have no idea where I want this to go with Tina past finding the release I was screwed out of last night, and if I want to get close to that again, showing up at her house drunk is not the right way to go about it.

  Knowing if I have something now, it’ll just wear off before I show up to Tina’s, so I opt for a quick workout. Wearing only my basketball shorts and sneakers, I jog down the stairs to the small home gym I put together over the last year. Finding gyms going out of business and people selling equipment cheap online, I’ve acquired quite a bit and it’s enough to keep me from paying a membership somewhere I won’t go.

  Cranking the stereo, letting the sounds of Static-X wash over me, I sit on the bench, lay back and begin lifting the weights to the beat of the song. With each rep, I work toward pushing myself further than I did the arm day before. Feeling the stress seep out of my pores, I finish my last round of bench presses and move over to the pull-up bar.

  Pulling my weight above the bar, it’s effortless until about the twentieth and it feels like I’m somewhere around five hundred pounds. Gritting my teeth and fixing my jaw, I complete another ten before my arms are screaming for a break. Knowing I’m at my prime time, I grab the dumbbells and almost immediately begin a set of curls.

  When sweat’s pouring down my face, I finally break. Wiping my brow and taking a large swallow of water, I glance at the clock and realize I need to start getting ready, as I’ll have a stop to make before I get to Tina’s. With the towel draped around my neck, I walk up the stairs and straight to the bathroom.

  After a longer than usual, relaxing shower, I’m out, dried and dressed in a ma
tter of ten minutes. Thinking it would be a good idea to do something with my hair, I run some product through it and make it look like I just woke up. I should have scheduled enough time for a trim, but then again, I wasn’t planning on going to see my ex-in-laws for dinner.

  An hour and a half later, I’m standing on the other side of Tina’s door, softly knocking. When she opens and I see the grey material swirling around her legs, I can’t help but feel a surge of pride in my chest. I specifically asked her to wear something, and she did. I peruse her body, taking in all the curves I love and got a taste of the night before. My eyes connect with hers and she almost appears nervous.

  “You look beautiful,” I say, wishing I could take it back as her cheeks flush an adorable shade of pink and her gaze casts to my feet.

  “Thank you,” she whispers, grabbing her purse from the arm of the couch and slipping into a pair of heels on the floor. Extending my elbow, she casually slips her arm through and glances up to me. Even in heels, the top of her head only reaches my shoulders.

  “You look handsome.” The blush returns and I chuckle in response. God, she’s so fucking perfect. Gorgeous and has no idea—the most perfect woman I’d ever find. And I let her walk away. Kicking myself in the ass, I walk her to my truck and help her climb into the cab.

  The drive to her parents’ is only fifteen minutes and each and every second is full of uncomfortable, tension-filled silence. Had I known it would be this awkward, I would have pulled over and fucked the tension right out of her. Then, I’d have to deal with inquisitive glares from her mother and looks of promising death from her father.

  “You ready?” Tina asks, hand on the door handle. Apparently, I navigated to her family’s home on auto pilot as I don’t remember much of anything other than being inside my own head.

  “Yep. Let’s go.” I put on a brave face, and it takes one hell of a man to admit he’s scared, and right now, I’m terrified. I’m quite a fan of my heart beating and my testicles hanging between my legs.