Halfway Whole and Other Lies We Tell Ourselves

by Alyssa Rose Ivy

  We took seats next to each other on the porch swing.

  “Ok. Now this is a view.” She leaned back and started to swing us.

  “It is.” I was looking at her. Not the lake. “My new favorite view.”

  “New favorite? You’ve lived here a while.”

  “I wasn’t talking about the lake,” I brushed some hair away from her face.

  “Oh.” She flushed. “Thanks.”

  “Just speaking the truth.” I put an arm around her. It wasn’t a conscious action, it just happened.

  “I don’t know how many of these are just lines.”

  “None of them.”

  “Oh?” She turned to look up at me. The movement brought her even closer to me.

  “And eventually you’ll get that. I’m not a womanizer, not that anything you’ve seen should give you that idea.”

  “Well, we did meet one of your exes.”

  Ugh A.J. “Yes, but I assure you there aren’t tons of others.”

  “She seems… uh interesting.”

  “You mean rude?” I started to swing us more. “I’m sorry about that. We each saw our relationship differently from the other, and there were some hard feelings.”

  “Uh. Huh.” She nodded. “You don’t have to explain.”

  “I’m happy to answer questions, but I also don’t want to ruin tonight.”

  “That bad?”

  “Not really, just not fun.”

  “I got it. So no more ex talk. What do you want to talk about then?” She pulled a leg up under her again. That seemed to be her comfortable position.

  “All of your exciting finds in the attic.”

  “Oh. That is a fun conversation.” Her eyes gleamed.

  I smiled. I loved seeing all that excitement on her face.

  “I can’t believe you never found them before. What a treasure.” She was being completely serious.

  “This totally gets you hot, doesn't it?” I teased.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m just saying.” Hopefully I hadn’t crossed a line. I figured she’d be more than happy to put me in my place if I did.

  “You’re just saying?”

  “You get turned on by history. Is it all history? Or just small town? I need to know these things.”

  “You need to know these things?” She flushed. It was so damn hot how flustered she was getting.

  “Yeah. Would anything suffice? Like turn on the history channel or something?”

  “Logan.” She stretched my name out. My name had never sounded so good coming off of someone else's tongue.

  “Yes, Brooke?”

  “I’m not turned on by history.”

  “Then what are you turned on by?” Ok. I was probably pushing it and being way too forward, but the electricity level humming between us was making it hard to think straight.

  “You in only a towel.” She gasped, “And I said that out loud.”

  “You did say that out loud.” Maybe I wasn’t the only one whose thoughts were going in that direction.

  “You enjoyed that, huh?” It was far too much fun to tease her.

  “A little bit too much.” She looked down at her lap.

  “You should really return the favor.”

  Her head flew up. “Answer the door in just a towel? Are you crazy? You see the way my life works it would be someone else.”

  “Well, one day I’m going to get to see exactly what you look like in just a towel.” Maybe it was wishful thinking. Maybe it was the wine. But she had admitted to liking the way I looked.

  “That sure of it?”

  “Uh huh.” I could act more confident about things than I was. “But it’s up to you if I get to see what’s under the towel.”

  “Oh, that part is in my hands?” She moved closer so that her leg was pressed against mine.

  “Of course.” This was as far from my normal personality as possible, but she brought this weird side out on me. It’s like I couldn’t stop teasing her.

  “I guess only time will tell.”

  “What is it about the pictures you liked so much?” If I didn’t change the conversation, I was probably going to say something much worse than I already had.

  She blinked. “Abrupt conversation change.”

  “I’m trying hard to keep my gentleman image.”

  “I think you lost that when you started talking about history turning me on.”

  “And then you brought that back up. You must not mind the conversation that much.”

  “Returning to the pictures.” She laughed. “It’s like a mystery. I need to know who those people are and where they ended up.”

  “Can I help with this mystery?”

  “Sure. I’d like that.”

  I entwined my hand with hers. “You have good hands.”

  “I do?”

  “No one’s told you that before? Did you play the piano or anything? You have piano fingers.”

  “I didn’t. Music was never my talent.”

  “Well you have the fingers for it.” I moved our hands onto my leg. “I do, too. Although I quit ages ago.”

  “You play piano?” She made no move to remove her hand.

  “I’m half-decent.”

  She leaned into my side. It felt so damn good to have her there beside me. It had been ages since I’d felt so good. I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt so good with a girl before. No, I was sure. I hadn’t. “It’s funny that you said it that way. Half-decent.”

  “Why’s that funny?”

  “Because I’ve been thinking about that concept. About what it means to be half of anything. My brother asked how I was holding up before I left, and I told him I was halfway back to myself. I was halfway whole. But what does that even mean? Is it really half whole or is it half broken or empty?”

  “Definitely half-whole. There’s nothing broken or empty about you. And I’d say you are way closer to full anyway.”

  “I’m feeling more like it.”

  “I’m glad you came here.” I got us swinging again. “Even though I’m sorry you hit the point where you had to.”

  “Same here. But I needed it. That’s for sure.”

  “But you need more. Don’t think your two days were enough and pack your bags.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” She gazed out at the lake. “Especially not now.”

  “Something changed?”

  “Oh, come on.” She flipped her head around to look at me. “You know what’s changed.”

  “Ah. You’ve seen me in a towel. That’s what.”

  She ran her hand down my arm. “Yup. That’s it. That’s all of it.”

  “You know if you like it out here so much you can hang a hammock. I have one I can set up for you.”

  “Oh, that’s ok. It’s yours.”

  “It’s big enough for two, and I assumed I was going to get an invite to share it. You know, since I look so good in a towel and all that,” I waggled my eyebrows.

  She pushed my arm. “That towel thing is only going to get you so far.”

  “I’m not going to respond with what I want to respond with.”

  “If the response involved the concept of you without even the towel, then it’s probably good that you didn’t.”

  “Good? Or bad?”

  “I still need to do the dishes and walk Maple. It’s a good thing.”

  “No. We need to do both of those things. I’m not leaving you hanging.” As much as there were many other things I wanted to do with Brooke that had absolutely nothing to do with dishes or walking, I’d be responsible.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely positive.”

  “Dishes first and then the walk as a treat?” She suggested.

  “That’s the treat? I was hoping for another kind of treat.”

  “Oh really?” Her voice was huskier.

  “I mean dessert of course.’

  “Of course.” She stood up and headed inside. “What kind of dessert did you have in m
ind?”

  “We can discuss it on the walk.”

  Working together the dishes were done in no time. “Alright Maple, it’s go time.” Brooke put on her leash. We headed out and down toward the lake. It was only the second night and I was already getting used to it.

  As we walked out the door, I slipped my phone out of my pocket and left it on the couch. Maybe I couldn't go fully off the grid, but I could learn something from Brooke. “Were you much of a walker back in the city?”

  “Uh, not much. I mean not beyond what I had to do. It’s different here.”

  “Having a dog makes it pretty much required.”

  “Well and there’s such a gorgeous place to walk.”

  “Well, before you and Maple entered my life I wasn’t walking this much,” I admitted. “It’s good. It gets me out of my attic.”

  “I don’t want to keep you from your work.”

  “I have plenty of time for it.” She was a wonderful distraction. Plus, whether she knew it or not, she was also an inspiration. I was eager to start on a new sculpture soon. “Just like you have plenty of time with your play.”

  “Yes. Absolutely.” She swung her arm. “It’s going to get dark soon.”

  “It is. And we still have to figure out dessert.”

  “All I have is ice cream in the freezer.”

  “How can you say all you have about something like ice cream? Weren’t you the one saying it should be its own food group.”

  “And I stand by that. I’m only saying the decision isn’t too hard for me.”

  “How about brownies with ice cream?”

  “Well nothing beats brownies a-la-mode.”

  “Exactly. We do have quite a bit in common.”

  “Surprisingly so.”

  “Why surprisingly?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I generally don’t have that much in common with people.”

  “Then you’ve been hanging out with the wrong people.”

  “Evidently.” She stopped when Maple did. “I’m learning so many new things about myself.”

  “But seriously. About those brownies?”

  “You have some you’ve been holding out on?”

  “I have the mix. I always buy a few boxes before Jaylin comes.”

  “Oh. Only for Jaylin?”

  “Hey.” I held up my hands in front of me, “I’m a good big brother.”

  “Are you inviting me over to bake?”

  “Maybe I am.” I wordlessly took Maple’s leash.

  “Then when are you going to work on your sculptures?”

  “Another time.” Any other time. There was no way I was choosing the attic over time with her.

  “I probably should say no, but it’s brownie a-la-mode.”

  “It is. And these are triple chocolate brownies.”

  “You’re making it hard to pass up.”

  “That’s the point.” I turned around, I was in a hurry to get back.

  “I take it you’re not sick of me yet?”

  “Not going to happen.”

  “Oh it might.”

  “Doubtful. But I’ll be sure to prepare.”

  “Prepare?” she asked.

  “Yeah you know, stock up food. Build a bunker. It’s going to be the end of the world when that happens.”

  “You’ve only known me a few days, you can’t predict whether you will or will not grow sick of me.”

  “You are kind of like triple-chocolate brownies. There’s nothing to get sick of.”

  “Now I know that one was a line,” she laughed.

  “Yes. A line I made for you.” I was in deep. Seriously deep. There was no way I was going to stay away from her now. And I didn’t want to.

  She smiled but tried to hide it by looking out at the lake. I was going to keep that smile around, no matter what it took.

  Eleven

  Brooke

  And somehow I was baking brownies with him. I wasn’t even sure how it happened. From the moment we met we’d been finding reasons to spend time together. This time it was triple-chocolate brownies. There were far worse reasons than that.

  He put the brownie pan in the oven. “So now we get to the big question. The one that will forever determine our compatibility.”

  “Uh oh. This sounds serious.”

  “It is.” He set a timer on the oven.

  “Ok. Let me have it.” I instinctively dipped a finger along the rim of the bowl to try some left over batter.

  “And you answered the question for me.” He grinned. “Unbelievable. I tell you, you’re unbelievable.”

  “What?” I licked my finger.

  “That. You eat the leftover batter from the bowl.”

  “Are there people who don’t?” I went for a second taste. “I mean, I know there’s the health risk, but there’s a health risk to every—”

  I didn’t get to finish because he cut me off with his lips. He pushed his way into my mouth, and the chocolate from the batter merged with his taste. It was pure heaven. He pushed me back against the counter, his arms wrapping around me and pulling me tightly against him.

  The combination was too much for my resistance. I slipped a hand under his shirt, wanting to feel the muscles I’d seen earlier.

  He slipped his hand under my shirt, running his hand over my stomach. I wanted more, so much more, but I’d just met this guy. I needed to put on the breaks. I very reluctantly broke the kiss. “Hey, you haven’t even tried the batter yet.”

  His eyes were lidded. “Yeah, I was enjoying you more than I will ever enjoy the batter.”

  I picked up the bowl, mostly to have something between us so I wouldn’t break down and grab him. “Even triple chocolate?”

  “How about I get another taste from you,” he raised an eyebrow.

  I looked at him. Was I crazy? This hot as hell guy was standing in his kitchen asking to make-out with me, and I was resisting, because? Because nothing. There was absolutely nothing wrong with enjoying myself. I took another taste of batter and set the bowl down. “I can’t come up with a single good reason not to keep kissing you.”

  “Good. because there is none.”

  The batter was forgotten as we picked up right where we left off. Only this time it was hotter if that was possible. We broke the kiss only to pull each other’s shirts off.

  He stared at me for a moment. Watching me in just a bra and shorts. “You really are gorgeous.”

  “Had I known the day was going to end this way I would have worn a different bra.” I looked down at the simple black bralette I was wearing.

  “There is nothing wrong with this one. He put his hands on my hips. “And to think I didn’t even have to start talking about history to get your shirt off.”

  “No, you only had to get me baking brownies.”

  “So many good things to remember.” He picked me up and set me down on the counter. “Now where were we?” His lips returned to mine, as he cupped my breast over my bra. I didn’t want the material in the way, and I reached around to unclasp it, but he beat me there, unclasping the bra first. He broke the kiss and watched me as he slowly slipped the straps down my arms, letting the bra fall to the ground. “Yeah, you are a treat way better than any brownie.” His mouth descended on my breast. I closed my eyes, as his hand moved to my other breast. I reached out and pulled him closer with his belt loop. I undid his button and slipped my hand into his pants. “I’m normally not like this,” I whispered. “So forward.”

  “Either am I.” He released my breast and moved his lips to my neck. His hand moved into his lips’ place.

  I took him in my hand. He was hard and big. I swallowed hard. This was totally happening. I was going to jerk off a guy while sitting on the counter of a cabin.

  He groaned as I slowly moved my hand. He released one of my breasts and undid my shorts. His hand slipped inside and he ran his fingers over my panties. I shifted around in anticipation. I gasped when he slipped one finger inside. Then another. “Lo
gan.” His name slipped so naturally from my lips.

  He slipped a hand under me to lift me up enough to slip my shorts completely off. Then he picked me up and carried me into his room.

  He laid me down on top of his blanket and his eyes asked a question I was ready with an answer to.

  “Yes. Please. Definitely yes.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.” He slipped out of his shorts and boxers before slowly slipping my panties off. “You are so freaking gorgeous. It’s unreal.” He reached under me and pulled back the blanket, I moved up so I was now in his sheets. He lay beside me, his hand slipping between my legs again.

  Normally I rushed this part. I rushed past this pleasure to get the guy inside so I could quickly meet his needs. But not this time. This time I closed my eyes, and enjoyed everything. I was completely ready when he moved over me. His eyes looked into mine again.

  I nodded. “I want you now.” I’d never been so forward in my whole life.

  “I won’t even make you say please.” He thrust into me, and it hurt at first. My body was so unused to the feel of a man—especially one as large as Logan. But pretty soon the discomfort melted away to complete pleasure.

  He moved inside me, and his lips were everywhere, my neck, my breasts. I let my hands explore his muscular planes.

  “Open your eyes,” he demanded.

  I listened and looked right into his. The sensations intensified, building until I could barely handle it. His smile grew.

  “You are amazing.” He kissed me hard on the mouth right before he reached his climax.

  It was a full ten minutes before either of us said anything. We lay there tangled with each other in his sheets. The timer on the brownies went off.

  “As much as I don’t want to get up, I may want to go get those.” He ran his hand down my bare arm.

  “Please do.”

  “I’ll be right back.” He kissed me before getting up and heading out of the room completely naked. I couldn’t help but admire the view. He looked just as good from behind.

  He took a few minutes to get back, and I started to get nervous, until he returned with a bowl and two spoons. “Thought you might be hungry.” He slipped back into bed next to me.

  I propped up his pillows and he held out the bowl of chocolate brownies covered in mint chip ice cream, topped with chocolate sauce and whipped cream. “I think I'm dreaming.”