He groans, pulling me close enough to feel his hardness. Just feeling him excites me. “What about now?”
“What about it?” I make my words sound playful, secretly hoping he’s going to suggest something that will take care of the ache that’s starting to form between my thighs.
“What if I said I wanted to take you right now?” Thank you, sweet little baby Jesus!
“I’d say, take me.”
Parker breaks our hold at lightning speed. Before I can even exhale or comprehend what exactly is going on, he’s pulling me down the steps and toward the bathrooms. Giving each door a quick look, he opens the women’s first.
“Excuse me,” he says apologetically to the woman washing her hands. She looks confused and I give her a remorseful smile. Letting the door close behind him, he pulls me to the men’s room. I’m excited just at the memory of our first encounter.
After making sure no one is inside, Parker quickly pulls me in after him. He locks the door the second it slams shut. One hand on mine and the other around my waist, he turns me around and presses against me, then pushes us backward until I hit the counter.
“Are you serious?”
He cups my cheek and leans in, whispering, “I’m going to make you feel so good.”
He’s serious.
I whimper at his words. He knows my body inside and out; knows exactly what it needs. And right now it needs him.
Turning me around so I’m looking in the mirror, he slips his hand inside my shirt, lightly tracing my skin. He pushes my bra aside and tugs on my nipple, which hardens under his touch as my eyes flutter closed.
“Open your eyes. I want you to watch me.”
This all seems too intimate for a public bathroom, but I oblige.
The look on his face in the mirror shows that he’s hungry for me.
He holds my hip and rolls my nipple in small circles. He flexes his hips, pushing himself into my backside so I can feel how hard he is. Pulling me firmly against him, he drops light kisses along my neck and I tilt my head to the side, giving him full access. He kisses my ear, then leisurely licks at my skin, tasting every inch of me he can reach.
“You always smell so good. Like fucking pears and honey. I can never get enough of your scent, Aundrea.”
My head falls back onto his shoulder when he cups my breasts firmly, then begins to rub my breasts, massaging them roughly while rocking his hips into me.
“Look in the mirror. I want you to watch yourself as I play with you.”
The passion and foreplay at the beginning of any sexual encounter with Parker is always exciting.
I crave this part, right here. The way I tingle with each touch. The way I ache and throb for him. The electricity that pulls me to him.
“Parker,” I breathe.
“Don’t worry, babe. I got you.”
His hands move from my breasts and I moan at the loss. I don’t have to wait long before they’re back, running up my thighs and under my skirt. He holds one thigh while he trails a hand to my wet center.
“I love that you’re ready for me,” he groans.
He slips a finger inside the cotton and taunts me, tracing along the outer edges of my slick folds. I quiver from his touch, begging him for more as my knees shake.
Parker wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me even closer. “Do you feel how wet you are? How much you’re craving me, want me inside of you? I can almost feel your tightness wrapped around me and hear the sounds you’ll make.”
“Parker, please,” I urge.
His finger slips inside me, and my eyes roll back in my head at the sudden entrance. “Watch me. Watch the way I make you feel good. The way your lips part and your skin heats with my touch. Watch me, Aundrea.”
I open my eyes and he slips another finger inside. “God, you feel so fucking good,” he murmurs, moving his fingers faster and deeper. Then he glides up to my swollen clit, rubbing me in hard, fast circles that have me rocking against his palm.
“Right there, don’t move … oh my God.”
“Not yet, babe, I want to feel you around me when you explode.” He stops touching me and I wince at the unexpected loss. Parker laughs. “Don’t worry, babe.”
He turns me around and lifts me onto the counter. I pull my skirt up to my waist and Parker pulls down my yellow thong and drops it on the counter next to me.
I unbutton his pants quickly and he pulls out the hardness that I so desperately need.
I spread my legs, opening myself to him. I’ve never had sex in a public bathroom before and, honestly, I find it exciting. Adrenaline washes through me at the thought that we could be caught, which just excites me even more.
“Not so fast.” He pauses, staring at me.
“What?” I ask in frustration.
He looks down and I follow his gaze. He’s stroking himself slowly. I watch as he plays with himself, wrapping his hand tighter around his shaft.
“You do this to me. You make me hard with just one look—the look that burns in your eyes when you’re thinking about me being inside you. You drive me crazy … I want to make you just as crazy.”
“By provoking me?”
“No, by not being allowed to touch me. Hold onto the edge of the counter and don’t let go.”
“Parker,” I groan. I’m not about to just sit there while he has sex with me.
“Do it,” he says sternly, still stroking himself. “Or you get to sit there and watch me finish myself off.”
“Parker!” Is this man crazy?
He winks. Reluctantly, I give in and hold onto the counter.
“Good. Now, don’t let go, or I stop.” He pulls me closer to the edge of the counter and traces my folds with his finger. I close my eyes and wait for him to enter me, but he doesn’t. When he lets out a small sigh of pleasure, I open my eyes again.
He’s sucking his finger, sampling me. “You taste so. Fucking. Good.”
“Pa—”
He thrusts inside of me without warning.
“Shit!” I scream. It’s so loud I know whoever is outside the bathroom heard it. Parker moves inside me, deep and fast, filling every inch. He slams harder into me with each thrust and I start to call out his name.
“Shh, babe.” His hand comes up to cover my cries of pleasure.
I try to keep my moaning to a minimum, but he makes it difficult as he pushes me closer and closer to the edge. My head falls back, my lips part, and I hold onto the counter with everything I have.
Parker kisses my neck. “Come on, baby, let me feel you.”
I call out his name as I release the high within me. I shudder with waves of pleasure as Parker slows down his pace. We kiss, our tongues finding one another. He tastes of beer with a hint of me. When he finds his own release, my mouth muffles the sound of him calling out my name.
“Wow.”
“Yeah, wow,” Parker says, breathing heavily.
“I’ve always wanted to do that,” I say, releasing the counter and wrapping my arms around his neck.
“What’s that?”
“Have sex in a bathroom.”
“Really?”
I wave it off as if it’s no big deal. I never thought it would actually ever happen.
“Huh, I never would have guessed that.”
“What can I say? You’ve awakened my senses and made me want to explore everything in life. Now, handsome, let’s get cleaned up and back out to our table before the search party comes after us.”
We give each other a quick once over and exit the bathroom. When we round the corner, Jason, Genna, Kevin, and Jean are all smiles as the waitress drops off another round of drinks.
“Did you two get lost?” Jean taunts.
“Or fall in?” Genna counters.
Parker and I look at each other, shaking our heads. “We ran into a classmate of mine,” I explain quickly.
“Whatever. Look at their faces. Those two totally just fucked,” Kevin says.
“What? No we didn’t.”
I shake my head, then sit and chug the water in front of me. The cold liquid is cool and refreshing after our recent heat.
“Right, that’s why Parker’s zipper is down and your shirt is flipped up at the bottom. Looks like a quickie to me.”
Parker and I both quickly look down at ourselves, then each other, but we’re both dressed correctly.
“Gotcha!” He breaks out in laughter. “You two are so busted.”
I shake my head, but don’t hide my smile. Parker sips his beer with a faint smile while the others stare at us.
“Do you blame me? Look at her?” Parker finally says against the rim of his beer.
I flush. Parker reaches over and traces the color I know is in my cheeks.
“Well, then. Now that we’ve established those two just got lucky, how about we drink!” Jean chants, raising her martini glass.
“I’ll toast to that!” Kevin says.
Parker leans back in his chair and gives me a wink as he sips his beer. I wink back, tasting my pineapple lemon drop martini.
We spend the rest of our night tossing back drinks, dancing, and reminiscing about the last three years. It’s times like this that make me grateful I’m surrounded by such amazing people.
Rain spatters me as I run into Mayo Clinic the following week.
The security guard holds the door open when he sees me coming, giving me his usual tight nod.
“Thank you,” I say as I rush past him.
There is a crowd by the elevators so I decide to take the stairs, my wet sneakers squeaking with each step. On the third floor, I walk into the oncology office, pushing my wet hair out of my face.
When I get to the back, though, Amy isn’t here yet. Casey walks in and freezes when she sees me.
“Hey! I thought Amy was coming in today? I haven’t seen her in weeks.” I’ve been looking forward to this day. We made plans to go out for lunch and talk nothing but baby.
Casey’s face falls and her shoulders hunch.
“What is it?” I’m wary.
I can see the pain in her wide, bloodshot eyes. “Dre.” She sounds afraid to say anything else.
“What happened?” I can’t take a step closer.
Her chin starts to quaver and she bites her bottom lip.
A light prickling sensation hits the back of my neck. The kind that tells me something is horribly wrong.
Her mouth open and closes. An uneasy feeling takes over—that sickening feeling that sets in the pit of my stomach—and I can’t take it. I know something’s wrong and I need Casey to spit it out. It feels like there’s a hundred-pound weight on my sternum.
“What is it?”
Casey looks over my shoulder instead of at me. She opens her mouth again to speak but no words come out, only the agonizing, horrifying sound of her cries.
Watching her, listening to her, it’s as if all of her pain passes right into me.
My shoulders begin to quake. I don’t know exactly what’s going on but I know it has to be completely terrible for Casey to be crying the way she is. Her make-up runs down her face as she hurriedly digs for a tissue.
“I-I I’m so s-orry, Dre.”
I take a slow step toward her, holding my hands in front of me so I don’t startle her. “Take a deep breath, Casey.” She tries, but her sobs are uncontrollable. “Sit down.” I pull out a chair and ease her feather-light body into it. “Deep breaths.”
She drops her head between her knees and I direct her breathing. I take a few of my own deep breaths. When she finally controls herself I look around for someone. Where is everyone?
“What happened?”
Her head snaps up, mouth wide and face smeared with snot and mascara-tinged tears. She looks around, closing her eyes tightly. I brace myself.
“Amy.”
My throat feels like I’ve swallowed a handful of needles. “What about Amy?”
“She passed away last night.”
I didn’t brace myself enough, apparently, because I fall hard against the cold floor.
I feel like I’ve fallen into a black hole: no light, no hope. In astrophysics, we call that boundary the event horizon. Nothing from the other side can reach you there and you continue speeding up as the gravity waves pull you to the center.
I’m cold and numb. Casey’s speaking too fast for me to follow. I can’t make out a single word. I just sit, unmoving, staring into space from my black hole.
“What do you mean? She was doing okay. She was okay!” My voice is shaky, almost unrecognizable. “I just talked to her last week. We were getting together today!” My voice rises with each word.
A few employees come walking around the corner to see what’s going on. When I look their way, they won’t meet my eyes. Everyone here knows how close Amy and I are. Were.
“Dre, Amy stopped full treatment last year.”
“Stopped treatment?” I shake my head. Everything feels fuzzy. “That’s not possible. I know her. I know her! She finished treatment when we met. She is a survivor. We are survivors!”
“Her cancer metastasized to her bones, Aundrea. There wasn’t anything further that could be done. I’m so sorry.”
“But I saw her. She was doing well.”
“She was on maintenance chemo to help keep her stable, but it spread so fast over the last two months. Nothing was working and over the last month it took over. She only allowed you to see what she wanted.”
I don’t understand why she didn’t tell me. Why she led me to believe everything was okay.
If Casey’s still talking to me I don’t hear a thing. Everything inside of me is gone. Whatever life or soul that was inside of me has left my body.
I stand, pushing past her and force myself to keep walking. It finally hits me when I take my first step down the stairs. Everything comes crashing down when my foot hits the cement in the stairwell. It sounds like a crack of thunder.
Pushing myself, I run down the stairs, holding onto the railing to keep myself from falling. It’s the only thing holding me up.
The security guard jumps up when he sees me. “Are you okay?”
I wave him off and fling the door open. The rain slashes at my face and the pain feels good. I stand and let it pierce my skin. My heart is shattering into a million shards, as if it were made of glass.
I clutch my chest, falling to my knees on the sidewalk in front of the clinic. I can’t even be certain if I’m still breathing. People walk past me; a few stop, but they sound distant. I clutch my chest, begging the burning pain to stop. She’s gone. Casey’s words run through my head over and over again, cutting deeper each time. She passed away last night.
“Ma’am? Are you okay?”
“Do you need help?”
“Is someone with you?”
“Does she need an ambulance?”
Ignoring them all, I get to my feet and run to my car. The blood orange sun looks like fire in the sky.
I don’t know where I’m going when I get into my car, but I peel out of the lot as fast as I can. I try calling Parker’s cell. I need him.
He doesn’t answer.
I try again. Nothing.
I don’t bother calling the clinic. I know he has a full schedule and the thought of driving to the clinic makes me sick. I can’t be there right now. I’m in no shape for that.
But I don’t want to go home and be alone.
I try Parker’s direct line, but when there’s no answer I drive to Genna’s on instinct.
I’ll keep trying him, but right now I need to focus on the road. The rain comes down harder as I speed up.
I’m not really sure how I get to Genna’s, but I zone back in as I’m pulling into her driveway next to my parents’ car. I forgot they were still here.
The pain won’t stop. The ache in my heart grows stronger as I shut the car off and sit with nothing but the sounds of rain and wind crashing against the windshield. I slump forward over the steering wheel and cry into my hands. My shoulders shake so hard they start to ach
e.
Suddenly, I’m furious. I hit the steering wheel. “Why!” I scream at the top of my lungs. “Why would you take her away? Why?” Pain slices through me, but it doesn’t release any of my agony. It just stays, burning and aching.
I need this feeling to go away. I’m so mad that Amy didn’t tell me what was happening and hurt that she didn’t trust me. Didn’t she think I could handle the news? As my tears continue to fall, I think back to the last few months and how blind I was to it all. The longing looks she gave Ethan, the date nights with Brandon, the lab draws, spending more time with her family, and all this talk about life and embracing fear.
Opening my car door, I run to the house. I’m not sure what I need or who I need at this point. But I know I need to be inside. I need to scream at something—or someone. I need to make the hurt go away.
Laughter comes from the house the second I open the door, but it stops abruptly when I slam the door.
“Hello?” Genna cautiously asks from somewhere inside.
My mom comes to the top of the stairs and sees me. “Dre? Are you okay?”
“No,” I manage to get out, but my voice doesn’t sound like me.
She rushes down the stairs.
“What is it? What happened?”
Genna runs over too.
“Make it stop, please make it stop.”
“What, honey?” my mom asks, rubbing my back.
“The pain.”
“Dre, you’re scaring me. What happened?” Genna asks.
“Amy.” It hurts to even say her name. Knowing she’s no longer here and that this isn’t some terrible nightmare.
“Your friend?” my mom asks, while Genna says, “What happened?”
I nod. “She passed away last night.”
One of them gasps.
“It’s okay, Dre. Deep breaths.” Genna’s voice is soothing. She rubs small, tender circles on my back.
“I can’t. I can’t breathe.” The pain is only increasing.
“Honey, I know this is difficult. But you need to breathe.”
“I can’t!”
“Mom, give her a minute,” Genna instructs. “She just learned her friend died.”
“I understand that, but I need her to calm down.”
What's Left of Us Page 12
