“Neither do I, but this is the way.”
“I know. I know you’re right.”
Brent kisses the place on my cheek where the tear fell, wiping away its existence. The soft caress of his mouth is an apology. Searching my face with sadness cloaked in bravery, he traces my lips with his thumb, adding pressure at their center. My heart warms as love lights his whole being, igniting a sensation within the room. No words need to be said. He’s telling me everything he is.
Kissing his thumb, my breath flutters around the map of his fingerprint, filling the unique part of him with my inner being. He sweeps the hair away from my neck and sears the newly exposed area with his hot, wet mouth. I melt into a gelatinous form as he lines my flesh with his tongue, skating along my jaw. Gripping his arms, I mold the pads of my fingers into the indentations of his biceps before slinking down his sides to where his shirt meets his belt.
“You deserve my time,” he says. His breath floats across my skin, and his fingertips trace the shape of my shoulders and then along my arms. “My undivided attention.” He kisses me in that space behind my ear, that oh-so sensitive place, thawing my insides. “And I’m going to give it to you.” Along my throat, the heat of his breath touches the neckline of my dress. “And we’re going to have many more good memories to come.”
“I want a memory,” I say, pushing my breasts upward toward his mouth. “Send me back with one.”
“I’m going to give you one you’ll never forget.”
Circling his hands around my shoulders, Brent tugs the zipper of my strapless dress down to my lower back. Sliding his hand into its interior, he flirts with the hemline of my panties. He rises from the bed with me in his arms, and the dress falls to the ground when my feet touch the floor. Taking his time, Brent kisses my shoulders, arms, chest, and stomach, his hands shadowing the path of his mouth over my entire body, as he savors and worships my form.
“It’s like you were made just for me,” he whispers into my ear, his hands unfastening my bra and tossing it aside.
“I think I was.”
With little patience, I push my thong down my hips, allowing gravity to take it. Brent hauls me up by my ass and backs up toward the bed. He sits us down with my legs spread around him. His mouth feverishly joins mine, asking for more with his tongue and heart, and he takes everything I am. I can feel his soul calling me, reaching in and beckoning for my own, requesting permission to dance together in a promenade of our design. Wanting just that, I release any hesitancy.
It’s clear that no one else can have me because it’s always been him. I’ve been unknowingly waiting for him all this time. Life was moving on, but I never did—at least, the part of me that matters, my heart, never did.
My hands peel off his shirt and toss it to the floor. I undo the belt at his waist and unzip his pants, and then I reach down, gripping his length. He clutches the back of my head with one hand and cups my breast with the other as he deepens our kiss while I stroke him slowly and then faster with a firm grasp.
“Ruby,” he growls. “Fuck.”
Firmly gripping my ass, Brent lifts me from his lap, twists around and lays me on the bed. He backs away, kissing every inch of my naked physique, and then he pushes his pants and boxers to the floor in a singular motion.
My lungs cease their movement.
He’s gorgeous, a fucking masterpiece.
Every contour of his body is so defined, purposeful, and impeccable. His arms and chest with the unexpected sexy addition of ink are amazing. I bite my lip to hold myself in place. The tautness of his abs lead down to the V-shape indention near his hips, accentuating the path to his length, which is pointed straight at me. I exhale. His powerfully strong legs provide a sturdy base to his impressive form. I clench the space between my thighs.
I could stare at him all day.
I want to touch him, absorb him all day.
Brent retrieves a condom from the bedside table drawer and puts it on as I sit up, coming to my knees. I run my hands up his firm chest, unable to wait much longer.
I need to touch him.
Once his hands are free, he flirts with my nipples, my curves, my backside, and my mound—a passionate kiss following every touch. Brent lifts me up with our bodies flush together and I wrap my legs around his waist. He turns us around, and lowers us onto the bed, with me on his lap.
“This isn’t good-bye,” he reassuringly says, touching his forehead to mine, as his hand lines my spine. “I will see you again. I promise, I’m not letting you go.”
I lock my lips with his, sealing his words into an agreement with my entire being. Our kiss brands them in my heart, my soul, and that space only created when we’re together, merging us as one.
Reaching between us, I palm his hard-on and guide Brent into me. He cups my ass and gently pulls me closer as I wrap my arms around his neck. I roll my hips over him, his length gliding in and out of me.
“Everything about you,” he says, his mouth at my neck, “is gorgeous and beautiful.”
“Brent,” I gasp.
“And fucking fantastic.”
We gyrate our hips in rhythm. Our bodies are tightly woven together, and our hands are everywhere at once. Brent’s mouth dips below my chin, asking to take my breasts, and I arch my back, giving him full rein of my body.
It’s his, too. It always has been.
His tongue flicks and laps at my nipples, taunting them, causing my breaths to quicken.
Wanting to kiss him, to see him, to feel him, I draw myself toward him and take his mouth with mine. Savoring everything he is, I create a memory of us, one to carry with me for as long as it takes until we can make another one. I roll my hips faster, loving the feel of him inside me, as he fills me in so many ways.
I moan into his mouth as the pleasure slowly builds deep and heavy inside. I clench his shoulders tight until intense waves release through my every muscle and every cell. Brent pulls me down over him one last time, letting himself go while simultaneously holding me tight.
His lips come to my ear. “Soon. We will be together again soon.”
Nine
The lights illuminate the airport drop-off area in the predawn hour. Brent puts the car into park, and I concentrate on my lap. It’s early, too early, but my entire body is alert despite the hour.
Time keeps moving on.
I wish it wouldn’t. Good-bye has come too soon.
Bravely, I face Brent, forcing myself to keep marching forward. My flight is in about an hour, he has team practice soon, and my life waits for me two thousand miles away. I’m having serious second thoughts about boarding the plane. I need more time.
“Call me when you get there?” he asks, placing his hand in mine.
“Sure, I can do that.”
He squeezes my fingers. “It won’t be long.”
“I know.”
“My season will be over in about a month or sooner, and I’ll have a break. You can come out again before then, if you want. We can figure it out.”
“Okay,” I barely muster. More syllables are outside of my emotional boundary this morning.
Leaning over the center console, Brent palms the side of my face, looking straight through me, into me. Moisture glasses over his green orbs. This is hard on him, too.
“Call me when you board,” he says, adamant.
“I will. Happy birthday by the way.”
“Thank you.”
He fervently kisses me. Tears erupt, trickling down my cheeks.
This is our last kiss, our last touch, our last moment.
No, it isn’t. There will be more.
I open the door, and Brent comes around with my bag in his hand. He transfers it into my possession…in slow motion.
“Just so you know,” I say bravely, “I’m going to miss you.”
“The feeling is so mutual.”
He takes me in his arms, and I let myself love him, allowing my soul to feel.
“I’ll call you every day. It will
make it easier,” he says.
“It can’t make it worse,” I mumble into his chest.
“Have a good flight.” The words contain a simple message, but this departure is full of complexity.
“Thanks.” I pull out of his embrace and shrug my bag over my shoulder. “I will.”
“Don’t forget to call me when you board.”
I smile at his insistence. “I will, I promise.”
“Go on. You don’t want to miss your flight.”
I steal a kiss from his mouth and then turn toward the sliding glass doors, not allowing myself to look back.
Forcing my legs onward, I head straight to the kiosk, print out my ticket, and then unhurriedly make it through the security line. To bide my time, I get an overpriced mocaccino because chocolate helps everything, and then I settle into the gate area where other passengers are starting to gather. My flight isn’t for another forty-five minutes. Being idle is not good in times like this, allowing second-guesses to creep into the mind. Brent and I talked about this, and there’s no reason to get irrational now. I’ll see him again soon.
The boarding area is filled with sleepy passengers and the scent of coffee beans, evidence of the early morning hour. I close my eyes, not from fatigue, but to let it all settle in.
I take a moment to remember, to remind myself that I was kissing Brent not too long ago. It happened just this morning. Less than an hour ago, his lips were on mine. Last night, I was in his arms. I was there, in his bed. Like a dream I’ve been denying for years, our closeness remained despite the time apart. There is still an us.
I left that just now. I still can’t believe I did.
Without him next to me, it’s hard to believe everything that occurred in our short period of time together. The blur of my trip suddenly feels surreal with no evidence, only the memories in my mind.
My coffee is empty, and the gate agent has begun boarding passengers. I enter the aircraft, find my assigned seat, and shove my handbag into the designated space at my feet. As more people continue to board, I buckle my safety belt and take out my phone to call Brent as promised.
He answers on the first ring. “Hi, beautiful.”
I miss him already. “Hi.”
“Are you on the plane?”
“Yeah.” I blink rapidly, affected by the sound of his voice. “Just boarded. Are you home?”
“I just walked in the door. Is the plane full?”
“Yes, they’re gate-checking people’s luggage.”
“Are you scheduled to take off on time?”
“We are. It takes off in about five minutes.”
All his questions are so strange, and I have the fantastical thought that he might be on the plane with me.
The flight attendant comes over the loud speaker.
“Hang on.” I wait for the woman to finish making a standard announcement. “Sorry. Looks like they’re going to be closing the door soon. I can’t talk much longer.”
“Okay. I’m glad you got on all right, and thanks for calling. Call me when you arrive. I’ll be at practice, but leave a message. I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”
“Sounds good,” I answer automatically. I want to say so many things, but I’m unable to go down that emotional path, not wanting to surrender to the longing already building.
“Can you do me a favor before you hang up?” he asks.
“Sure.” I pray his head will pop into view over the seats ahead.
It doesn’t.
“Are you in your seat?”
“Yes, of course I am,” I say, confused. “We’ll be taxiing soon.”
“Can you reach your handbag?”
“Yeah,” I reply, skeptical. “Why?”
“Look inside the small zipper pocket.”
I snatch the black bag off the ground and set it on my lap. Holding the phone with my shoulder, I open the latch to the main compartment, and then with shaky fingers, I pull open the zipper to the small interior pocket. A folded piece of paper sits within the small space.
“What is it?” I ask, extracting it with my fingers. I deposit my purse back onto the floor and place the sheet of paper on my lap.
“Miss,” a flight attendant says from the aisle. “We’re closing the door. We need you to end your call.”
“Okay.”
She stands stagnant, watching and waiting.
“Brent, I have to go. I’ll call you when I get there.”
“Read the note,” he says. “I miss you already.”
“I miss you, too,” I choke.
“Soon. Remember, soon.”
“I remember.” I sigh. “Bye.”
“Bye.”
I shut down the phone and then slip it into the front pocket of my hoodie. We taxi from the gate, and without any hesitation, I open the note Brent was so adamant about me reading. The paper is actually a flyer for a local charity fundraiser sponsored by his team. I flip it over, finding Brent’s handwriting scrawled all over the once blank page.
Ruby,
You’re sleeping, and I’m awake. I tried so hard to fall asleep with you in my arms, but I couldn’t stop looking at you. You’re so peaceful in your sleep. Did you know that? It’s the only time you seem to hold still. You’ve always been going, running, moving, and I guess that hasn’t changed with time. Now, you’re the one resting, and I can’t seem to hold still, so I’m writing you this instead.
There’s so much on my mind that I never said. We only had so little time together, and I wasn’t sure what was right or wrong to say during your stay. There’s so much between us that everything can’t be covered on such a short visit.
First, I want to let you know that I miss you already. I’ve missed you for years, and I didn’t even know it. Now, you’re within my reach, and I’m missing you again. When you asked me to beg for you to stay, you have no idea how hard it was for me not to. Even now, I’m having thoughts about turning off your alarm and mine, so you would miss your flight, and I could blame it on fate, but that would be a lie. We only get so many chances with fate. I know we have ours right now, and I’m not going to mess that up. I want you to be happy and to get everything you’ve ever wanted. You work too hard not to get that. You deserve to have it all.
Second, this—us—is going to be hard with me here in L.A. and you in Chicago, but I truly believe we can make it work. We’ve been through so much already that this will seem like nothing in comparison. But unlike all the other times when things got tough, I’m vowing to you right now that I will not fail you. When I said that I’m going to fight for us, I meant it.
Third, I love you.
Fourth, I should have said those words to you while you were here, but I didn’t. I wanted to. However, they are always on the tip of my tongue and always resting in my heart.
Fifth, I will make it up to you. I will make it all up to you.
Sixth, it’s clear to me now that my heart has been waiting for you these past years. And so have I. I will wait for however long it takes.
Seventh, please take care of my heart. Take care of you.
Eighth, did I mention, I love you?
Caritas patiens est.
Always,
Brent
The airplane takes off and climbs higher into the early morning sky. With every passing second, I’m further away from L.A., leaving my heart.
Closing my lids, I fold up the paper, holding it tight in my hand.
It happened. We happened.
Patience.
Caritas patiens est. Brent is right. Love is patient.
I need to be patient.
Ten
Three days.
Three of the longest days ever.
That’s how much time has gone by since I left L.A. Somehow, it still feels like a dream.
Brent and I talk daily, which helps, like he said it would. Every conversation reboots the idea that we’re real, but without seeing, touching, or holding him, it’s not the same, not even close. There are times wh
en I’m not sure if my mind is playing tricks on me. I find myself confirming its reality by wearing his shirt. It had to be real because I wouldn’t have his garment otherwise.
Since coming home, school has assisted in keeping me occupied. My last exam for the day is complete, and I’m making a special trip downtown. On the subway, heading toward the Loop, I text Brent…just because.
Me: School’s out. On the L now. Going to meet Cody and Shauna for coffee. What are you doing?
I stare at my phone and wait, hoping for and willing a quick reply. He should be done with practice for the day, but he did mention going to work out this afternoon. Feeling like an idiot and embarrassingly desperate, I go to slip my phone into my coat pocket, but then it buzzes in my hand.
Brent: Just finished lunch with Paul and Johan. About to head to the gym. Good day?
I don’t want to tell him that I miss him terribly. It won’t help my longing or the distance.
Me: Yes. Great day. Exams went well. Saw my academic adviser today and set up my classes for next quarter. Should be able to graduate this spring—on schedule.
Brent: That’s great. You deserve it.
Me: Thanks.
Brent: You discuss grad school?
Me: A little.
Brent: And?
Me: He said that I needed to apply, like, yesterday if I want to go in the fall.
Brent: I support whatever you want to do.
Me: I know.
These Days Series: After Tuesday | Forgotten Yesterday | Deciding Tomorrow Page 42
