Wasted Words

by Staci Hart

  He nodded. “Well, no one can say you’re not ready. You even held down the Nike account.”

  I smirked and took a seat across from him. “Thanks to Adrienne. I ran into her last week.”

  He raised a brow. “Oh?”

  “She asked me out.”

  The other brow raised. “Oh?”

  I leaned back in my seat, amused. “Yeah, but it wasn’t quite right. I think we’ll be friends instead.”

  His brows fell. “Oh.”

  I chuckled. “I had a bit of a realization, thanks to Adrienne, and I ended up spending the weekend with Cam.”

  “You spend most of your weekends with Cam.”

  I gave him a look.

  His brows popped up again. “Oh! Well,” he said with a laugh, “it’s about damn time.”

  I smiled. “I’ve gotta be honest — I wish I’d made a move a long time ago.”

  “Everything in its time. I’m happy for you, kid. You deserve a good girl who’s going to treat you right after all the disappointment you’ve suffered. Cam’s a good girl, and a good cook. You can’t go wrong with a girl who sends you to work with baked goods.”

  “I’ll tell her you said so.”

  He smiled at me from under his mustache. “How are things with Darryl?”

  “The same. Just sort of holding out to see him this weekend for the game.”

  “Ah, yes. It’ll be good to have you on the field with him for the game. I know at least two other agencies are after him, and who knows what they’re promising him.”

  I shook my head. “He’s a good kid, wants what’s right. Wants somebody to look after him, and that’s what we do. Not just after ourselves. I have faith.”

  “I’m glad.” He turned to his computer. “All right. Let’s work on getting caught up. Go get settled in, answer your emails, and then come on back. We’ll take lunch in here and we can bring each other up to speed.”

  “Sounds good.” I made my way into my office and took a seat, turning on my computer to start the day. And what a long day it was.

  The emails were many. The phone calls didn’t stop. Jack and I spent every minute we could discussing everything I’d done and everything he’d done, getting all the data in order to ensure we didn’t leave any loose ends. Pharaoh was set to check into a luxury rehab facility in two days, and we only had two sponsors on the fence about sticking with him, both of which we set up lunches with later in the week.

  We ended up taking dinner in Jack’s office too, and I’d had no time to check my phone, but I’d been thinking about Cam all day. The cool metal against my pinkie was a reminder of her, the strange newness of having the ring on my finger just like the strange newness of our relationship — something I knew that in time I’d not think of strangely unless it was absent.

  It was a comfort, and I’ll admit that I didn’t want to get used to the feeling. I hoped it always felt this new.

  By the time we were ready to pack it in for the night, it was after nine, and I was so ready to be home, I could barely stand it. When I finally checked my phone, there were a couple of texts from just after noon:

  Kyle: Hey, man. Sorry about yesterday. Let’s have a drink soon. Say when.

  Cam: Hope your Monday is less shitty than mine! Can’t wait to see you tonight.

  I smiled and texted her back. It was the shittiest, but I’m on my way home to you now.

  And with that, I slipped my phone in my pocket and left as fast as I could.

  CRAZY PANTS

  Cam

  I GLANCED OVER MY SHOULDER to look at the fridge, contemplating its contents for the hundredth time that night. It may as well have had a bomb in it.

  My phone sat on the shelf between the milk and the kimchi, where it had been since I’d walked in the door. It was for the safety of my budding relationship that I deposited it in its cold quarters, a place where it would be safe from my fingers, which itched even now to check for messages or fire off an awkward text.

  I’d like to tell you I’m not this neurotic all the time, but it would be a lie. I’d been thinking about Tyler all day, but I hadn’t heard from him at all. I sent him a text, and he didn’t respond, and my brain couldn’t maintain its chill.

  Now, don’t look at me like that — I knew he had a crazy day ahead of him, but like I’d told Tyler — I had an overeactive imagination, and between that and my anxiety about what was going on between us, I was basically a wreck. My thoughts through the day went something like this:

  I can’t wait to hear from him.

  I’m sure he’s just super busy.

  He’ll text any minute now.

  He’s probably dead.

  No, he’s definitely in Adrienne’s office, banging her on her gigantic power desk.

  Stop being crazy.

  I bet he’s been thinking about you like you’ve been thinking about him.

  Maybe he got in an accident and has amnesia and will never remember kissing you ever again.

  So I put my phone in the fridge.

  It hadn’t really helped. Neither had my book, which was sitting in my lap, ignored.

  I’d like to say I had no idea why I was so twisted up about Tyler, but it would be a lie. It wasn’t like I hadn’t had boyfriends before, but I usually only dated my equals. Especially after Will. But I told myself again that Tyler was different, and by rule, I should let him in. I trusted him, I really did. But years of working against doing the very thing I found myself doing wasn’t doing me any favors.

  The scale didn’t feel so even when it came to Tyler, and that anxiety I’d felt with Will was as fresh and tender as it had been that day all those years ago. Because I didn’t know if I could handle Tyler leaving me with as much grace as I had Will.

  I smiled wryly at myself — I’d always prided myself on being a chill girlfriend, never needy with my man, not caring if the guy I was dating had plans, but here I found myself, having to hide my phone so I wouldn’t obsessively stare at it or worse: send him some crazy-shit message.

  I sighed and sank into the couch, fiddling with Tyler’s bracelet, wishing I had someone to talk me down. My best friend was Jane, who I hadn’t seen since Christmas. She was so busy these days with two babies under three that she went hard all day and was passed out by nine every night. Mostly, I just didn’t want to bother her because I knew she had her hands full.

  My next closest girlfriend was Rose, and although I knew she’d gladly tell me to stop being ridiculous, she’d already been doing that for most of the day. It had started off fine, honestly, but the longer I went without hearing from Tyler, the louder the voice in my head grew -- to the point that I was certain he was going to walk in the door and dump me.

  A cold chill rolled down my back at the thought.

  I took a deep breath and closed my book with a snap. There was only one thing to be done.

  I walked into the kitchen, opened the cabinet under the sink, grabbed the all-purpose cleaner, and headed to the bathroom.

  By the time the mirror was spotless, the sink had been detailed, the floor around the toilet was mopped, and the bathtub was nice and shiny, I felt a little better. I took the opportunity of a freshly cleaned tub to shower, sighing under the steaming hot water, letting it rinse away my worry. Or at least dull its edge a little.

  I’d feel better when he was home. But I also had to find a way to stop myself from worrying. I’d always had anxiety — not enough to decide to medicate, but enough that in certain situations, like the one I was in, my thoughts would run away, dragging me behind them until I was lost. Most of the time, I could logic my way out of it. And it wasn’t all bad — that same anxiety made me a thorough worker.

  But in a relationship? I’d scare him off if I wasn’t careful. He’d been so good to humor me so far, but everyone had a limit.

  I had to get it together. And to get it together, I had to have faith.

  Put so simply, it sounded easy. But if my behavior over the last few days was any indication, I ha
d a long way to go to get there.

  My shower ended with the squeak of the faucet and a fluffy towel against my skin. Glasses were on, and once my hair and body were patted down, I opened the door, tucking the towel tail between my breasts, thinking about my phone in the fridge.

  When I looked up, Tyler stood in front of me. It took me a millisecond to realize it was him and not a rapist, and in that millisecond, I jumped about four inches and screamed at around a hundred decibels. My hand jerked — the same hand holding the end of the towel — and it dropped, landing in a pile at my feet.

  I froze.

  He froze.

  And then I sprang into action, bending over to grab the towel and clutch it to my chest, face steaming red. When I looked back up, he was smirking — tall and dark and smirking at me with fire in his eyes.

  “Honey, I’m home.”

  I laughed and dropped my face into my free hand. “Oh, my God.”

  He pulled me into a hug, careful not to disturb my towel or touch any naked skin that would have been considered out of bounds. “Can you greet me like this every day when I come home?”

  “I want to die.” I muttered into his chest.

  “Why? That was seriously the highlight of my day.”

  I laughed again, feeling ridiculous. “Let me go put some clothes on.”

  He kissed the top of my head. “Not too many,” he whispered as he pulled away, winking at me before turning into his room.

  I felt giddy and a little lightheaded as I dressed in the dim room, hearing him moving around the apartment and into the kitchen. I’d just pulled on my shorts when I heard his footsteps in the hallway.

  When I turned, he was leaning on the doorframe in his pajamas, holding my phone, looking amused. “So I found this in the fridge.”

  I smiled sheepishly. “Weird.”

  “Care to share why?” he asked with a smirk.

  I walked over to him and reached for it. “Nope.”

  He held it up. “Ah, ah, ah.”

  I jumped for it, and he held it out of my reach.

  I hung my hands on my hips and glared at him. “Not fair.”

  “Why was your phone in the fridge, Cam?” He bent, reaching with his free hand to wrap his arm around my waist, pulling me to him. When he stood, he took me with him. “Come on. Tell me.”

  “No. It’s embarrassing.” I wound my arms around his neck to make it a little easier for him.

  “More embarrassing than screaming like you were in a horror movie and ending up accidentally naked in the hallway?”

  My cheeks flushed. “Yes.”

  He kissed me, and I melted into him. When he broke away, he nuzzled in my ear. “Please, tell me.”

  “It’s dumb,” I muttered.

  He pulled back to look at me and smiled. “I’m sure it isn’t. What’s going on? I promise, I won’t think it’s dumb.”

  “I dunno, Tyler,” I said, and then it all just fell out of my mouth like verbal vomit. “I just … I didn’t hear from you all day, which isn’t a big deal, don’t get me wrong. Like, it’s not your fault, I knew you were busy,” I rambled, “but I just kept thinking about you and wondering if you were okay, if we were okay, and I was losing my mind, so I put my phone in the fridge so I’d stop checking it, okay?” I took a breath.

  His smile fell. “I’m sorry, Cam. We were just so busy—”

  “No, no. Don’t apologize, seriously. It’s my anxiety, you didn’t do anything wrong. I just don’t want you to think I’m crazy.”

  “Well, I mean, you did put your phone in the fridge,” he teased.

  I tried to smile.

  He kissed me again and walked me backward toward the bed, laying me down. “Tell me what I have to do, Cam.” He crawled onto the bed, hovering over me, his eyes dark and pleading. “Tell me what I need to say,” he whispered.

  I cupped his jaw. “Nothing,” I said softly. “You’ve already given me so much.”

  He bent to press his lips to mine and kissed me with intention, with ownership and sweet command. My hands moved down his back, to the hem of his shirt and under. His skin was hot and soft, and I imagined it against mine.

  The thought sent a ripple of need through me.

  The kiss deepened, mouths wider, breath heavy, more intense than it had been before, feverish and earnest. His hips pressed against mine, the length of him hard against the length of me, and I moaned, flexing against him.

  He broke away, kissing my jaw as my head dropped back, his hand splayed across my neck. “Cam,” he whispered, a plea and a warning.

  But I didn’t want to wait anymore. I wanted him to know he’d done everything right.

  I reached down to grab his shirt and tugged — he backed away, kneeling between my legs to pull it off. I was mesmerized by the stretching of his body, the muscles on his chest as he tossed it, but before he bent down to kiss me again, I reached across my stomach for the hem of my own shirt, meeting his eyes before pulling it over my head, leaving me in nothing but my sleep shorts.

  I don’t think he was breathing — I know for sure that I wasn’t — as his eyes moved down my body without a hint of pressure, only simple appreciation and care. He laid his body down on mine — the skin against skin everything I’d thought it would be — propping himself on his forearms, caging me in his arms. His hands were in my hair, his eyes searching mine. And then he kissed me.

  Everything was different than it had been — our hands, our lips, our breaths — the complacent kisses we’d exchanged gone, replaced with fire and need. He kissed me with devotion and promise. And when he broke away and looked into my eyes, I was lost.

  He moved down my body, kissing from my neck to my collarbone, settling his chest between my legs. He watched his hands stroke the skin between my breasts, trailing his fingertips along the curve, leaving a riot of goosebumps in their wake. My hand slipped into his hair, my heart aching at the worship of him cupping my breast, his lids falling shut, the sight of him closing his lips over my nipple. I sighed, my fingers tightening with his teeth, his tongue sweeping a circle, pulling to suck.

  My own lids closed, the feeling so divine, I couldn’t fight falling into him.

  “Tyler,” I whispered.

  He broke away, but didn’t come back to kiss my lips. He moved farther down my body instead.

  His tongue trailed down my stomach, pausing when his lips would close in a kiss, only to start the path again. Lower he went until his long body was mostly off the bed, and he knelt at the foot, grabbing me by my hips to drag me to the end of the bed.

  I couldn’t breathe, my heart pounding in my chest, in my ears as he looked up my body as if he could devour me. And then I realized that was precisely what he planned to do.

  His fingers hooked in the band of my shorts and pulled. And with that one motion, I was completely naked in front of my dream guy.

  He didn’t wait, just bent to kiss my thigh as he moved it to hook it on his shoulder, then the other as his tongue circled my skin, high enough that my nerves, rarely touched, tingled at the slightest contact. Every breath sent shocks through me, the anticipation heightening until he reached the top of my thigh.

  I drew in a breath and held it for the long second he waited, and when he closed his lips over the tip of me, the breath slipped out of me in a sigh that left me weak to the bone.

  His tongue moved against me, tracing unknowable shapes before he would suck gently, then start again, over and over, the rhythm strong and steady. I rolled against him, gasping when he slipped a finger into me, then another, curling to press the sensitive spot inside.

  His free hand wound around my hip, up my ribs, to my breast, his fingers capturing my nipple as he flexed his palm. My back arched off the bed, and he moved faster, keeping time with my rolling hips, my heart a frantic metronome as I came closer. But he didn’t relent, just spurred me on, and when I finally opened my eyes and saw his face, intent, eyes closed, buried between my legs, it was too much. I cried out as my body flex
ed, head falling back, and I came by the grace of his lips and fingers and heart alone.

  I sank back into the bed, lips parted, eyes still closed as my head lolled to the side, chest heaving as I listened to my pounding heart. His mouth had slowed to a gentle rocking, and when he broke away, he took a long moment to kiss up my body, finally settling in next to me. I rolled over to face him, slipping my leg between his as he wrapped his arms around me. I opened my heavy lids to look up at him, and he moved my damp hair back, eyes sweeping over my face like he was trying to memorize me.

  I smiled.

  He kissed me.

  I could have died happy.

  I leaned into him, deepening the kiss, ready to give it back to him, but he pulled back, laying his hand on mine where it rested on his cheek.

  “You don’t have to, Cam.”

  I took off my glasses and smirked. “No way are you giving me five-star oral and not getting something in return.

  He smiled. “I’m glad it wasn’t three-star. There’s no way I could have lived with myself.”

  “No, that was five-star, four-dollar-sign fine dining, sir.”

  A laugh burst out of him, and I inched my hips closer, closing the space between us to kiss him, and I felt him relent, relaxing back onto the bed as I shifted to lean over him.

  His hand was in my hair, mine on his bare chest, my breasts pressed against him, our legs entwined for a long moment before I moved down his body.

  He watched as I climbed between his legs, bending to settle between his thighs, looking up his long torso as he looked down at me. My eyes closed, and I kissed the soft skin above the elastic band of his pants. He wasn’t wearing underwear — I could feel him, rock hard under the thin cotton — and as I licked and kissed gently, I hooked my fingers in the band and pulled until he was free.

  Then, I tried not to freak out.

  He was bigger — much bigger — than I’d anticipated … even feeling him against me hadn’t done him justice, and I prayed to the gag reflex gods that I wouldn’t accidentally puke. Because then I might actually die of shame.

  I wet my lips and swallowed hard. And then I bowed my head, hands gripping his waist, and licked up the long line of his shaft.