The Years Between Us

by Stephanie Vercier

  “I’m sorry it was hard,” she tells me once our lips separate and she takes my hand. “Maybe you want to talk about it?” She looks at me with a certain knowingness, one that tells me she’s not buying the trip was just for work.

  “I’m not sure I’m up for talking too much tonight.” I don’t know where I’d begin, and while I give Claudia a lot of credit for having the maturity of someone much older than herself, I can’t be sure how she’d take me still being so involved in Isabelle’s life. That’s something Steve was likely right about.

  “Then let’s go up to your room,” she says, tugging at my hand.

  I don’t pause, don’t try to pull back or tell her it might not be a good idea tonight. I’d just be kidding myself.

  We walk up the stairs together, holding hands, and damn if I’m not hard even after a crazy long, exhausting day. I don’t ever expect her to feel like she has to submit to sex, but once we’re in my room, she’s in front of me and unbuttoning my shirt while I glide my hands over her soft shoulders and arms. She pushes the material of my shirt apart once she’s finished with the buttons, and the soft skin of her hands over my chest and stomach sends shivers down my back. I pull completely out of my shirt, then unlatch my belt and get out of my trousers, shoes and socks while I’m at it. She’s already pulled off her shorts and her tank, slipping into what is becoming our bed with her bra and panties still on.

  “You’re so damn beautiful,” I tell her, stopping right before the bed to take my boxer briefs off, ready to kneel onto the mattress when she points at the nightstand. “What?” I ask, wondering if she needs me to turn off the bedside lamp that I’d left on.

  “Condom,” she says, motioning toward the drawer.

  “Of course.” I’d been reckless with her, more than once, maybe because it just feels better to be inside her without the extra layer, maybe because I’m just so anxious that I don’t want to bother with that step. Or maybe I just want to get her pregnant.

  Shit.

  I just now realize that’s a very real possibility.

  I grab a packet out, rip it open and then slide it over my erection while she eyes me, slipping her panties off.

  “Can you get my bra?” she asks, her lower legs folded beneath her so that she’s on her knees and turning ever so slightly away from me.

  I climb into bed with her and unlatch the material stretching across her back, and then it’s just she and I, completely naked, save for the condom.

  “I thought about this all day.” She’s facing me now and stroking my arm. “Even when I was at the library reading, I thought about you… and this.”

  “So, I was able to compete with a great piece of literature?” I lie flat on my back and slide a hand over one of her smooth hips.

  She laughs. “I’m not sure I’d classify what I was reading as that, but it was still an addictive read… you want me on top?”

  “If you want to try it,” I tell her. “Or should I take full control like whatever sexy alpha male lead in your book?”

  Again, she laughs, moves closer and straddles me, placing her palms on my chest while I rub my hands down her sides and settle them back down on her hips.

  “I kind of hate full on alpha males,” she says, “but you’re going to have to kind of guide me on how to do this right.”

  I loosen one hand from her hip and take hold of my cock. “All you have to do is lift up and let me slide in.”

  She nods understanding, grips my shoulders and then lifts herself up. As she lowers herself, I guide into her, feeling that immediate sense of joyful relief as soon as I’m inside, this angle making her tighter than usual. “God, you feel so good, Claudia.”

  She doesn’t say anything, gives me a slight smile as the pace of her breathing goes faster. And then she closes her eyes and starts to ride me. I’m watching her and loving the view, the beautiful softness of her body, her perfectly formed breasts lightly bouncing, her long hair spread out over her shoulders and that face of hers still a vision that makes me catch my breath.

  And she’s doing great, making me feel so damn good when she suddenly stops, flutters her eyes open and then slides off of me to snuggle close to my side.

  That’s not quite how I expected that to end, neither of us even close to orgasm. I turn to her, her eyes slightly pooled with moisture. “What’s wrong?” I brush some of the hair out of her face and trace a finger down her cheek.

  “That just felt weird,” she says, her face turning a light shade of pink.

  “It did? It felt pretty damn good to me.”

  “I want to be able to do stuff like that, but I’m not ready.” She’s clinging to me.

  I don’t answer because I’m not clear on what she means.

  “I’m still not sure what I’m doing with this whole sex thing,” she tells me like it’s an embarrassing confession. “I kind of felt on display, like… I don’t know. I’m not ready to take control.”

  “Oh.” I can’t help but grin. “You were doing great,” I assure her, “but I get it.” And I think I do. Isabelle was three years older than me and had been my first. It took me a good six months before I felt like I’d figured my way around the bedroom with her. And there was more than one time when I’d tried to do something adventurous, only to end up feeling like an idiot.

  “Do you?”

  “It takes time.” I bring my finger down to her lips, touching them softly. “You want me to take over for now?”

  She nods and smiles sweetly.

  And in a way, that’s a bigger turn-on than having her on top. Maybe I’m not exactly an alpha male, but I can’t deny how hot it is for her to want me to teach her and to take control.

  I slide over her, spread her thighs apart and then guide my hardness back into her, feeling that same stroke of intense arousal. “Ohhh… god,” I moan.

  “Mmm…” she cries out before latching onto my shoulders and holding me close to her.

  We are melded together again, in that place of indescribable pleasure for as long as I can thrust my hips into her, until I can’t hold out any longer, until I feel absolutely spent. She orgasms just before I do, and seeing that relief in her beautiful eyes is what finally breaks me, sends me into my own release that leaves me in awe of how good something can feel. And then I’m flat on my back, exhausted but more than satiated.

  “I love you,” she tells me, reaching around my chest and nuzzling up to me.

  “I love you too,” I say, stretching my arm to turn out the light. Then I kiss her on the forehead, close my eyes and say it one more time. “I love you so damn much.”

  There are only a few moments in the darkness before my mind shuts down, and in those moments I can’t help hoping love will be enough to keep her by my side.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  CLAUDIA

  “So,” Danielle begins, pulling a stool up behind the counter at The Nut Monger. “How is the whole getting your parents to let you stay the rest of the summer thing going?”

  Danielle had come into the store with me after driving me to work. I’m now trusted by Rhonda to work nearly thirty hours a week, which includes opening up the store for her most days.

  “It’s a work in progress,” I tell her, flipping on lights, checking the register and then the computer to check for any deliveries Rhonda might have set up. “They know how much I love this job, so I’m thinking they’ll let me as long as I promise to come home for at least a few weekends.”

  “And then back to WSU, right? You aren’t planning on quitting college and working at The Nut Monger for the rest of your life, are you?”

  I laugh. “Nope, not in the long-term plan.” But I do wish I could stay in Echo Ridge, wish there was a college here so that I could be close to Luke.

  We’d already talked about him coming out for weekends at WSU, maybe him even buying a house there or a rental where, as long as he had an Internet connection and his computer, he’d be able to keep up with his job. But for that to work, we still
have to tell Danielle and my parents, something that I’ve put the brakes on, afraid to upset the balance we’d managed to create so far.

  “Thank god. I was almost picturing Rhonda hatching some plan to keep you here the rest of your life. She totally loves you.”

  “She tell you that?” I’ve gotten along great with Rhonda, but there’s an undercurrent of strain between us because of her son. She did ask me point blank one day if I’d had any problems with him, and I’d offered her a simple yes. Neither of us seemed to want to expand on that though.

  “Yeah, but Carlos hears it from David too when they’re actually talking. He didn’t take it well when Carlos told him to stop acting like an ass around you.”

  That still makes me burn a little. I’ve seen David since that one-sided make-out session—in a small town, it’s kind of impossible not to—but we haven’t actually talked. And the only thing I really want from him is an apology, maybe an acknowledgement that the way he’d treated me wasn’t cool and that however he treated that girl those summers ago wasn’t either. It’s not so much for me that I want it, but for whatever girls he feels like he can do that to in the future.

  “Hopefully he’ll clean up his act,” I tell her, not seeing a point in discussing it further unless I’m willing to make a bigger deal about it, which I’m not.

  “Yeah, I hope so too. I think he was just really into you and couldn’t take the rejection. No excuse, but guys are weird that way.”

  “And how is Carlos?” I ask, wanting to take the spotlight off of David and his weirdness.

  “Good,” she says dreamily. “He’s done all the paperwork to transfer to WSU. His parents were kind of iffy, but it’s all good now. And I already talked to Carlos, and I promise not to third wheel you in the fall.”

  I bunch my lips and give her a look. “I’ll be fine. Of course I’d like more girl time with you, but I understand you’ll need your couple time.”

  She smiles. “Then maybe you can meet a totally cute guy there, and we’ll do a bunch of double dates. And there are still lots of boys here… Carlos has told them you aren’t interested after that whole David thing, but—”

  “I don’t need any boys to date,” I tell her. I’d like to clarify I don’t need them because I have a man, but I don’t dare. “I’m perfectly content working here and catching up on my reading, and going on hikes—”

  “Yeah, with my dad,” she says, scrunching up her nose. “It’s sweet of you and all, but doesn’t that get kind of boring, going on hikes through our property with my father?”

  I feel my face warm, but I hope Danielle won’t notice. She’s actually been pretty clueless when it comes to me and her dad, like she can’t even fathom that me spending so much time with him could mean I might be interested in him. He’s just her dad, and that makes me terrified to tell her the truth.

  “Your dad is an interesting guy, and I love hiking. It’s been really peaceful, kind of nice to get a break from college boys.”

  “Yes, I know how much you disapprove of college boys, but the right one is out there, someone who is at the maturity level you require I’m sure.”

  Then she laughs, and I’m anxious to move the subject beyond boys or her dad when I feel a sick kind of pinch in my gut and the feeling that the oatmeal and strawberries I had for breakfast have decided to lurch back up my esophagus. I cover my mouth and sort of hiccup.

  “Sor—” With a newfound need, I turn, feeling my partially digested breakfast undoubtedly coming up. I need to get to the bathroom before it does, but that’s not going to happen, and I know it. I end up bending over the wastebasket behind the counter and hurling like I haven’t done since I had the flu when I was thirteen.

  “You okay, Claudia?”

  Half of my face is still in the trash can, but I can see Danielle’s feet, and her hand is on my back, rubbing circles.

  I shake my head, then clear my throat. “I think it’s food poisoning.”

  “Either that or you’re pregnant.”

  I lift my head. “Pregnant?”

  She tilts her head and looks at me like I didn’t pass sex education in the ninth grade. Then, with a small laugh, she says, “You have to actually have sex for that to happen. So unless you’ve had a miraculous conception, I’m going with food poisoning.”

  She helps me up. Other than the nausea, I feel fine, and I head into the bathroom to wash my mouth out, leaving the door open while Danielle stands in the doorway.

  “I hope it’s not anything my dad did,” she says.

  “What?” With horror, I lift my head up and see her reflection in the mirror, her arms crossed over her chest and a perfectly innocent grin on her face.

  With a shrug, she says, “His cooking. Hope it wasn’t something he made because he’d feel really bad about it.”

  I grip the sides of the sink, trying to steady my psyche more than my body. I can’t be pregnant. I absolutely can’t. It would fuck up everything. But it’s possible. We’d been so good about condoms as of late, but those first couple of times, we’d slipped up.

  “God I’m stupid.” I hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

  “For eating some bad food?”

  “I guess,” I correct. I wish I could tell her, wish I could confide in her and ask her what to do. The only other person in the world who knows about Luke and me is Luke, and I have no idea what he’s going to say if this is true.

  “I can go down to the store and get you some ginger ale or something to settle your stomach?”

  “No, I’ll be okay.” I turn the faucet back on and take several mouthfuls of water.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  LUKE

  Even though I’ve been back and forth to Seattle to see Isabelle at least once a week in the past month, it’s Claudia that consumes my thoughts. Even heading to the hardware store to pick up some supplies to finally attack some of the dry rot on the back deck, she’s all I’m thinking about. I actually had to write out a list to make sure I wouldn’t forget anything since I’d been doing that a lot lately.

  I’ve talked to her parents, her mom and dad both, not about what I should really tell them, that I’m in love with their daughter and can’t see my life without her, but about the possibility of her staying with Dani and I in Echo Ridge until she’s ready to head back to WSU in the fall. My role has mainly been to tell them she’s more than welcome, that Dani loves having her here and that she’s doing great at her job. I haven’t felt good about not divulging everything, but Claudia has asked me not to. She’s even afraid to tell Dani now, and the longer we wait, the harder it’s getting for her.

  She assures me it has nothing to do with her not wanting our relationship to last, that it’s just more about finding the right time. And I hope that’s all it is because the more she and I are together, the more invested I am. Each day that passes, it becomes more difficult to imagine life without her.

  With my list in hand, I head into the hardware store at the southern edge of town. I’d meant to finish the deck project last summer, but work had been especially crazy, and it had been Dani’s last few months before heading off to college. And while she’d spent a lot of time with Carlos then too, she made just as much for me. This summer, I’m lucky if I get to have dinner with her once or twice a week, but between work, Claudia and Isabelle, maybe that’s not an entirely bad thing. At least Carlos can give her his full attention.

  I grab a flat loading cart at the front of the store and start heading down the aisles, determined to begin on this small but necessary project. A few minutes in, and I’m in the lumber section where I spot David Baker.

  The little shit.

  He’s loading up some plywood for who knows what, and I feel a spark of anger. I’d never gotten out of Claudia or Dani what he might have done to the woman I’ve managed to fall in love with, but I know damn well it’s something. I’d promised Claudia I wouldn’t hunt him down to have a word with him, but now that he’s right here, I don’t have a choice in the
matter.

  “David,” I say in a loud, stern voice, leaving the flat cart and standing close to him, my arms crossed over my chest.

  He turns, startled, and takes a step back. “Oh, hey, Mr. Prescott—what’s up?” His expression is flat, annoyed.

  “You caused some trouble a while back, and I need to be sure you’ve been staying away from Claudia Cartwright.”

  He makes a cutting sound with his voice. “What? Who the fuck told you I was making trouble?”

  I step forward. “Doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you stay away from her. You been doing that?”

  An annoyed sigh comes out of his mouth. “I’ve barely said a word to her in the last month if it’s any of your business.”

  “It is my business. She’s under my roof, which means I’m responsible for her well being.”

  He shakes his head, laughs nervously. “That all it is? You sure she’s not spreading her legs for you?”

  I step forward, uncross my arms and grab his collar. “You think you have the right to talk about her like that?”

  “Let me go, man!” he snaps, putting his hands up and pulling away. “I never touched her. Just chill. Jesus fucking Christ!”

  He’s cowering the way a bully does when someone stands up to him and calls him on his bullshit. And just that tells me how guilty he is, that he knows damn well he’d done something wrong.

  “Just make sure you keep it that way,” I instruct, not backing away from him even an inch. “And if I hear about you saying anything at all about her, this won’t be the last time we have a talk like this.”

  “Whatever…” He stumbles back, knocking into his cart. It’s almost comical watching him get his balance back, clench his fingers around the cart handle and push it toward the front of the store as quickly as his two legs can take him.

  I almost wanted him to fight back, just so I could kick his ass. Just for saying that crass thing about her, I wanted to punch him square in the face. The idea that he’d ever done anything to upset her is enough to infuriate me, and it takes me a good couple of minutes to calm myself down, to get my heartbeat back to where it should be.