by Marika Ray
The smile was gone, replaced by the frown, and I wondered what I’d said that irritated him so much.
14
Jameson
Our song.
She said that’s our song now. I couldn’t be more stoked to hear her admit that we had a song. That we had a moment. That we had a connection. I honestly didn’t think the fifty ways would ever work, but it did. Exponentially. Lily-Marie practically confessed her feelings right then.
I couldn’t wait to get back to my journal and document how I was feeling. The energy pumping through my veins while I stood there watching my woman trust me enough to confess her deepest secrets with me was indescribable. I had to document it so I could explain it to Stein. Her hair was a mess from my hands grabbing and pulling. Her lips glowed bright red and there was razor burn on her pale neck. She’d had her legs around my waist, grinding against me without a single inhibition, and she’d been close to coming, I could feel it in the way she trembled.
But then she’d said Phillip and I’d freaked out. I couldn’t have that moment with her and share it with some other man’s memory. When she screamed, I wanted it to be my name, not some asshole before me. Of course she’d been with other men. She was a thirty-two-year-old mother, for Christ’s sake, but I didn’t want to hear their names when my cock was getting her off and I didn’t think that was too much to ask.
The fact she’d had an erotic dream only made her even more perfect. She’d been so responsive, so out of control for me she’d ripped my shirt and tugged on my hair to the point of pain. I already knew she was sweet and funny and capable, but add in the sex siren and she was every man’s wet dream.
“Not that we’re a couple or anything. Just that the song will remind me of that wall over there and how sturdy it is.”
Oh, hell no. We were most certainly a couple and I wanted to get that straight right freaking now.
I towered over her, needing her close to me, needing her to feel what I felt. To know what I knew. Her hands landed on my bare stomach, beneath the open sides of my shirt. My hands found her hips and pulled her in tight. I wanted her so badly, but I needed to tell her even more.
“Yes, we are a couple.” I gave her a quick tug, like I could shake some sense into her. “I love you.”
Her eyes widened almost comically. Had I not been in the middle of putting my heart on the line, I would have found it funny how quickly the desire faded from her eyes and fear took its place. She looked like a scared animal, looking for the quickest escape route.
My heart, so recently uncovered and cleared of dust from lack of use, took a deep dive, landing with a thud I was sure would leave bruises. She pushed against my stomach and I let her go. If she needed some space to think things through, I could understand that. It came as quite a revelation to me as well.
“Jameson.” She stepped back one foot at a time until she hit the wall. The wall she’d been up against, ravenous for me, just moments before. She shook her head slowly, the scared look morphing into almost terror.
While I thought the reaction was a little over the top, I was too elated to have discovered love to be real to worry too much about what she might be thinking. For my entire thirty-four years of life, I’d operated under the belief that romantic love didn’t exist. Together with Lily-Marie, I’d found out the truth: love did in fact exist and I was a lucky enough bastard to experience it. That kind of discovery was monumental. Not perhaps in science journals or academia, but in my own personal life, it was extraordinary.
“It’s like I’ve just discovered Santa is real,” I said out loud. I wasn’t even sure who I was talking to, but it needed to be said.
“What?” Lily wrinkled her nose at me, which was hard to see since she was all the way across the room now, basically as far away from me as she could be while still being in the same room.
I took one step toward her. “Lil—”
“Oh gosh, look at the time. I gotta go pick up the kids.” Lily-Marie looked at her wrist, which I saw didn’t even have a watch on it, and she hustled around me, giving me a wide berth, chattering a mile a minute. “Don’t want to be late and freak the kids out. I’ll just grab my keys and be right back. Don’t wait for me, I’ll make sure Stein gets into your house all right.”
She practically ran through the house, grabbing her purse and yanking the front door open. I stood there watching her, wondering why she was freaking out. She was clearly in the middle of a full-on freak-out, right? The common response to someone telling you they loved you wasn’t to run away, was it?
“Lily-Marie,” I called out. “You going barefoot?” I looked down at her feet, straddling the threshold like she couldn’t wait any longer to get out of there. To get away from me. The realization of her reaction finally penetrated my glee. And fuck, did that hurt. Like a dagger straight through the chest.
She stared at her feet too, then lifted her head with a huge, plastic smile. “Oh jeez. Nope, need shoes.” She ran back in just long enough to slip into some flip-flops by the breakfast table and then she was back out the door, leaving me alone in her house. Not even a “goodbye” or “hey, don’t forget to lock up.”
“But I did all the things on the list!” I shouted to the closed door.
I sank onto her couch and buried my head in my hands. Well, that went real smooth. I found out that love existed and I wanted to shout it from the rooftops. However, the person responsible for the revelation wanted nothing to do with me. No wonder people wrote shitty songs and poems about broken hearts. This love stuff was hard. Confusing. And it didn’t even feel that good.
What was the point of making people feel ecstatic when love was predicated on a specific someone loving you back? That was bullshit! Something that awesome shouldn’t depend on someone else. What if no one ever loved me back? Was I supposed to go through life just feeling like shit?
I’d rather go back to not believing in love and not getting my heart trampled on.
I sat back, slouched on the couch, feeling like I was operating under a lead weight. A black cloud. A vise squeezing my chest and reminding me of how stupid I was for loving the wrong person. Or loving at all.
Absentmindedly, I took in her living room. I’d been in her house many times before, but I realized I’d always been so focused on Lily-Marie I hadn’t really looked around at her space. Her television sat on a stand against the wall opposite the couch I sat on, the cupboard below it crammed with what looked like thousands of DVDs, all bearing Disney titles. Not one romcom or thriller or sci-fi movie could be found in her collection. “Obsessed” might be too mild of a word for whatever Lily-Marie had going on here.
A framed picture of her and her children posing with Snow White at Disneyland was on top of the DVD stand, clearly a prized possession by the way it was positioned. A pang of longing hit me full force as I stood up and walked over to examine Lily-Marie’s beaming smile next to the princess. She looked more giddy than her kids.
Clark was rolling his eyes in the picture, but you could see his mouth giving way to a smile. Milly was grinning from ear to ear and holding tight to her mom’s hand. I could just be projecting, but it really seemed like there was a hole in the assembly. A hole that could be perfectly filled by Stein and me.
I put the picture down and stepped away. There would be no Disneyland trips in my future if I didn’t regroup and find a way to get through to Lily-Marie. I just didn’t understand how she couldn’t see how good we could be together. How right we were for each other.
Time to go back home and figure this thing out. Lily-Marie was it. I was sure of it.
15
Lily-Marie
What the ever-loving hell was that? My mind was screaming the entire time I fled my own damn house. I felt like I was on the run, a fugitive who needed to escape before the cops showed up. Fleeing was essential. Fleeing was the only thing I could think of to get out of whatever that was back there.
I slammed my car door shut and put it in reverse, leaving some
tread on my driveway in my haste. My lungs were burning, probably wondering why we were getting all this exercise all of a sudden. Jameson had my heart rate soaring left and right. First, he nearly nailed me against the wall in a dominant move that revved my engine just fine, and then the next he was shocking the hell out of me by professing to love me.
I repeat, what the hell was that?
Who kisses with a woman for the first time and then tells her he loves her? Okay, fine, I did that a few times in high school, literally thinking we were engaged to be married and planning our kids’ names. But that was high school. Nobody was that naive by the time they hit twenty, let alone thirty.
Pulling into the school parking lot, I slammed the brakes and put the car in park. That last thought was a bit sobering, the balm I needed to calm myself. Why would Jameson react that way? Could he have so little experience with love that he was mistaking intense tonsil hockey with feelings beyond “harder, faster, oh yeah, right there?”
He had a child. I assumed he was in love with his ex-wife at some point in order to have made Stein. Although we’d never talked about our exes. For all I knew, Stein was the product of a drunken night at college. Maybe Jameson had no idea what love was about.
We barely knew each other. There was no way he could be in love with me.
I took a deep breath and felt better already. It was just a misunderstanding. I just needed to calmly tell him that he was mistaken. Things would be fine. Everything would go back to normal and it wouldn’t be at all awkward living next to each other.
I heard the bell ring and kids started flooding out the doors, racing across the playground. Trying to identify my own amongst the throng was impossible. It was too bad Jameson took things way too far with his little declaration. I would have kind of liked to have a neighbor with benefits. How convenient would that have been? Kids were off to school, I worked from home two days a week. We could have had a regular sex schedule.
My vibrator was nice, definitely got the job done. But to feel a man’s rough skin? To be touched and caressed by big hands, a solid weight pressing into me, pinning me against the wall? That hard cock doing unspeakable things even under layers of clothes? A shiver ran down my body.
The back door of my car opened with a loud click, disrupting my dirty thoughts and nearly giving me a heart attack. Clark hopped in, oblivious to where his mom had gone in her head. There I was, in the school parking lot, daydreaming about my neighbor’s thick cock, getting all hot and bothered. I really needed that orgasm, dammit. I would have been a better mom if I’d gotten it, I just knew it. Yep, I devolved into blaming my parenting on Jameson’s lack of follow-through. Seemed reasonable enough.
“How was your day, kiddo?” I eyed him in the rearview mirror, pressing my cold hands to my red cheeks, trying to calm them down and get focused.
“Good.”
“Wow, what a ringing endorsement.” Typical eight-year-old response. I rolled my eyes, but he was too busy getting his backpack off and buckling up to notice. “Where’s Stein and Milly?”
“Milly started crying because she left her folder in the classroom. Stein went back with her to get it.”
My heart melted. “Well, that was sure nice of him.” You were nice to my kid? You were my new favorite person.
“He’s always doing stuff like that. Drives me crazy. Like at recess today, we were in this long line to play tetherball and some kid got hit in the face. Instead of stepping up to play with me now that they were out, he took the kid to the nurse’s office and we lost our turn.” Now it was Clark rolling his eyes. I wondered where he got that.
“Well, honey, that was the right thing to do. Maybe next time you should follow Stein’s lead, huh?”
A long suffering sigh. “I guess, Mom.”
Milly and Stein opened the car doors and slid in next to Clark. I fired up the engine and headed home, listening to their chatter and banter about their day. Eavesdropping seemed like the only way to hear about what happened at school each day. When I asked, all I got was a one-word answer.
As we got closer to home, I got more and more nervous about how to handle Jameson. I had to remember that my ultimate goal was to find a man to be a loving husband and father. I had already settled for a man who liked me, but was never in love with me. Not wanting to get married should have been a huge red flag, but of course, in the middle of desperately wanting companionship and motherhood, I’d settled for less just to keep him in my life. Of course, that only lasted until he found someone younger and more beautiful to rock his world. I wasn’t still bitter, but I absolutely was focused on getting everything I wanted in a relationship next time around.
It was outrageous love or nothing, baby.
I parked the car in my driveway and eyed my house warily. Jameson was nowhere to be found. The kids hopped out and Stein ran over to his place, entering the unlocked front door. Getting out of the car, I locked it and slowly walked into my place, assuming Jameson would be gone, but not knowing for sure.
The kids raced upstairs to their rooms and my living room was blessedly empty. I couldn’t help but eye the far wall, remembering what had taken place there just an hour or so ago, like the walls could talk and spill my secret.
My phone rang in my purse, startling me.
“Bejeezus, you’re jumpy today, Lil,” I muttered to myself.
I answered as soon as I saw it was Gabby. She was exactly who I needed to talk to.
“I need more juicy details, woman!”
“Well, hello to you too.” I set my purse on the breakfast table and sank down onto the couch, kicking my flips off and getting comfortable.
“Come on now. Readers are chomping at the bit for more Mom-Com action.” Gabby seemed way more excited over writing about my life than I was about living it.
“Mom-Com?” I scrubbed a hand over my forehead.
“Okay, seriously, you haven’t been reading my column? What kind of best friend are you?” Gabby scoffed.
“Sorry, been a little busy living my life over here, providing you with content for your precious column.” I just couldn’t take the teasing, letting my snark lead the way. I was too discombobulated by everything that had happened. It was like I was living in some alternate universe today where everyone lost their goddamn minds.
Gabby’s voice softened. “I’m just kidding, you know that. I really appreciate you letting me write about your dating endeavors. And so do my readers. They’re eating it up! The column is called The Reality of Love, Mom-Com Style. I figured if it went well, I might do more exposés on the reality of finding love in today’s world. Yours is just focused on the fact that you’re a single mom and most of what happens to you is quite comical, you gotta admit. In fact, the hashtag MomCom has taken off since the articles started.”
I groaned. “That’s great. Just great. My life is a viral comedy.”
“No, it’s not like that. People are loving you. They are you. They’ve had similar experiences and feel like you’re their new best friend. I promise you’re famous in a good way. And hell, I’ve kept it so anonymous they have no idea who you are. Because I’m not sharing the best friend status with anybody. I’m your one and only. So spill.”
I was a little overwhelmed, thinking people were following my dating escapades so closely, but it was anonymous, and if shit hit the fan in my love life, I knew I could get Gabby to keep the true level of craziness out of the column.
“You’ll never guess what happened today.” Her quick intake of breath was the last sound she made for ten long minutes as I whispered to her my dream, the make-out session with Jameson, and then his embarrassing declaration of love. Hopefully the kids didn’t overhear any of it or I was going to have some massive explaining to do. I finally wound down and waited for her feedback.
All I heard was heavy breathing.
“Gabby?”
“Sorry. Give me a minute.” I could hear a big swallow over the phone and rolled my eyes at her drama. Although, I’d been p
retty freaked out for a while too, so I guess I needed to give her time to come to terms with all that had happened.
“Can I just say, holy fuck, that was hot.” She let out a whoop that had me pulling the phone from my ear. “First the dream, and then Jameson bringing it to life. Damn. Despite the sweaters, that man has fire in his pants, huh?”
My cheeks went up in flames again. “Bejeezus, Gabby.” But yeah, I agreed with her. He was packing heat I never expected.
“Can I just say I called it?” She cackled and it was like nails on a chalkboard. “Okay, so what’s the problem here? Why are you freaked out?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Because he declared his undying love for me after our first kiss? Jesus, Gabby. Men don’t just do that. That’s not normal.” I jumped up off the couch and paced my living room, making sure to stay away from the wall that held all my secrets.
“Let’s back things up here a second, okay? You started this whole Fifty Ways to Find a Husband thing because you wanted a man to sweep you off your feet, right? A man who would shower you with time, attention, and unconditional love. Oh, and also be a fabulous dad to your children. You with me?”
“Yes.” I was getting a weird sinking feeling in my stomach.
“So, here’s this man, who happens to be well-educated and gainfully employed, so we can assume he won’t pickpocket you. He understands your life as a single mom because he’s a single father too. Your kids get along great. He’s hotter than Chris Hemsworth and compliments you left and right while he takes you clothes shopping. When you cut yourself, he bandages your finger like he’s nurturing an abandoned baby bird. He literally sweeps you off your feet to your favorite song and almost fucks you against the damn wall, but respects himself—and you—so much that he backs off when you call him by the wrong name. And then he throws himself at your feet and professes his love for you.”
Silence stretched out over the phone.
