When I finished the drawing, I decided to take it to the bedroom where it could surprise him the next morning. I turned off the light to the studio but turned on the hallway light so I could find my way in the bedroom. Once there, I propped the drawing up on my dresser, then tiptoed back to the side of the bed and glanced at it before lying down. No…a few details weren’t quite right. So I went back in the studio and worked on the shading a bit. I was starting to feel tired and decided the drawing would never be as perfect as Scott was. It was time to go to bed. So I put the drawing back on the dresser in my bedroom so he would see it in the morning. I stood back, and I was satisfied with it. I sat on the bed and looked down at Scott. He had rolled onto his side, and I took in his back, running my fingers over the smooth, muscular skin.
I crawled into bed next to him and wrapped my arm around him, nuzzling the back of his neck. I drifted back to sleep, content and, like it or not, completely in love.
I woke up early. I shouldn’t have, though, considering I’d been up a while drawing that picture. Scott was still snoozing, no doubt sleeping off all the alcohol. He’d rolled over on his other side so I could see him. The stubble on his face made him look even yummier. He breathed softly. He looked so at peace.
I could have lay there for hours staring at him, but a rare sensation overtook me. I was hungry. That was odd. But I wasn’t going to deny myself, not this morning.
First things first, though. I made a pot of coffee and then looked around the kitchen. I didn’t have much to make breakfast with. Being single again, I didn’t keep much around. I had a few slices of bread (in the fridge, or they would probably already be moldy) and butter, some eggs (probably pushing their prime), and two cans of peaches in the cabinet. I opened the cans of peaches and ate two slices to quell my grumbling stomach. I poured the rest in a big bowl and set it on the table. I figured I’d wait to make the eggs and toast once Scott woke up.
I peeked in my bedroom and saw he was still sleeping. I decided to take a quick shower. When I got out, I dried off, slicked on a sweet-smelling lotion, and then combed out my hair. When I slid Scott’s shirt on this time, his scent seemed even stronger. It made me want to fuck him again, but…no, not now. I went to my room and slid on a pair of panties I fetched from my dresser.
When I got back to the kitchen, I poured myself a cup of coffee and lit a cigarette. Then I opened the curtains above the sink. I leaned on the counter, just looking out the window at the absolutely beautiful day. I guessed Winchester wasn’t so bad. Not bad at all.
I’d almost finished smoking my cigarette when I heard Scott behind me. “Morning.” I turned around. He had his jeans on, but that gorgeous chest was looking like breakfast. He walked across the room, confidence in his stride, and he said, “That’s where that went.” I looked down at his shirt and giggled. “Now what am I gonna wear home?”
I raised my eyebrows as he wrapped his arms around me. “A smile?” He swatted my bottom and kissed the tip of my nose. “Want some coffee?”
“Yeah.”
I left his embrace and poured him a cup. When I handed it to him, I said, “Have a seat. You like eggs, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Scrambled okay?”
“Sure.”
I put two slices of bread in the toaster (only the fourth time the thing had been used) and took out the only skillet I owned. I turned on the heat and put a pat of butter inside to melt.
Scott wasn’t content just sitting and came to stand next to me while I worked at the stove. “So…uh…there’s something we need to talk about.”
Oh, I didn’t much like the sound of that, but he didn’t sound ominous. So I looked up from the spatula I’d been swirling the melty butter around with. “What’s that?”
He looked up from watching my hands. “Are you on the pill?”
Oh, that. I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath until I released it after he’d asked his question. “Shouldn’t we be worried more about swapping diseases?”
His eyebrows jumped. “Why? Is there something you need to tell me?”
A nervous laugh escaped my lips. “No, no. I’m clean.” I continued moving the spatula around. “Did you have something else to share with me that I should know about?”
He laughed too and I could feel the heavy blanket of discomfort smothering us. But he had the right idea. We did need to talk about these things. He looked ready to squirm, though. This was a side of Scott I’d never seen before. This strong, confident guy was nervous. It was cute, but I’d never tell him that. He cleared his throat, staring into the cup of coffee in his hand. “No, nothing like that. I was thinking about the nine-month kind of present I could give you. Or would that be eighteen-plus years? The gift that keeps on giving?”
A too-loud laugh tumbled out of my mouth, underscoring my anxiety, but then I allowed the gravity of the conversation to overtake me. I swallowed the saliva pooling in my mouth, but I couldn’t bring myself to look Scott in the eye. I said, “You don’t have to worry about that. It’s okay.”
I saw him nod out of the corner of my eye. “So you’re on the pill?”
“Well, no…” I hesitated, drawing in a deep breath. This was a painful subject for me, but if I really cared about him like I thought I did, it was time to tell him. My voice was quiet when I prepared to tell him something that just might be a deal breaker for a guy like him. “I can’t have children.” And, right after I’d said it, the conversation I’d overheard between Wendy and her waitress friend just a couple of weeks earlier echoed in my head, about how great Scott was with kids and babies… I felt my gut clench, preparing for his response. Fuck…it felt too soon to have this conversation. My fault, I guess. I just had to have him take me in the shower.
I forced myself to look in his eyes. There was a pained expression on his face. Shit. But he said, “I’m sorry.” I couldn’t tell how he felt.
I shook my head as the bread popped out of the toaster. I took the slices and laid them on a plate, then put one more slice in. I said, “Don’t be. I’m sure it can be taken care of when I’m ready. The things doctors can figure out and fix these days are amazing.” I started buttering the toast. “I’m just not ready.”
“So you don’t know for sure?”
“It’s a long story. Sure you wanna hear it?”
He stroked my cheek, making me look in his eyes. “Of course.” Oh, that was sweet. That was real. He cared, and maybe my secret wasn’t a deal breaker.
So, while I scrambled the eggs, I started letting it all out. “You know I just got divorced earlier this year, right?”
“Yeah, you told me.”
“Well, the last year Barry and I were married, we tried and tried to get me pregnant. I guess we were stupid enough to think a baby could save our marriage. In fact, that was all we did…. We never talked. And, well, sex just wasn’t enough. And it never happened anyway. So he went to the doctor and had a couple of tests done. We found out very quickly that he wasn’t the problem. So I went to the gynecologist. My heart wasn’t in it by that point, but I went anyway. She told me about all the factors involved and did some routine exams, told me all about different things we could try, including in vitro fertilization—”
“In vitro…test-tube babies, right?”
“Right. Well, the way she talked, it sounded painful and…scary. She also said that because I’d been on the pill for so long, that could have been why I couldn’t get pregnant. You know, it wasn’t all out of my system or something…like my body had forgotten how to be fertile.”
“Wait a sec…how old are you?”
I started laughing. “Not that old. I’m not quite twenty-seven.”
His brow wrinkled. “How long had you been on the pill?”
Jesus, could this conversation become any more uncomfortable? “Over ten years.” I wasn’t going to spell it out, and I certainly wasn’t going to tell him about my hypersexual high school years. Just as I’d told him last night that his past
didn’t matter to me, I didn’t want to make a big deal out of mine either. Maybe I could deflect the conversation, especially since the eggs were starting to firm up. “We’re about the same age, right?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I’m twenty-eight.” He took a swig of his coffee and I could feel his eyes on me, but I kept mine on the eggs in the skillet. “So she thought it could have been from the pill?”
“Well, she said that almost never happened, but I could be that one woman out of a hundred who experienced those kinds of problems. But, she said, that was unlikely. She said it was more likely something else.”
“Like what?”
I sighed. “Like a problem with my body.” I turned off the burner and buttered the last slice of toast. “I didn’t think it was because of the pill. I felt…dead inside. I’d always thought I wanted children someday, but I realized…after all the bullshit…you know, with Barry, and with all the stupid tests they’d already run on me…I didn’t want kids with him.” I pulled the skillet off the burner so the eggs wouldn’t overcook, but I didn’t want to look at Scott in the eyes yet. We were in sensitive territory. “Maybe I can have kids someday. I don’t know. All I know is I’ve never gotten pregnant, even when I’ve tried.” But…talking about it made me realize that it was still stupid to fuck without a condom. What if the problem had been Barry? What if Barry really hadn’t been tested like he’d assured me? I’d never gone through with some of the more invasive tests. As I’d said, I discovered the love wasn’t there, so I didn’t want to have kids with Barry. I wouldn’t panic, though. What were the odds of getting pregnant now after trying as long as I had? I didn’t believe it was possible.
“So…maybe you could someday if you wanted to?”
“Yeah…with the right doctor…and guy.” And where the hell did I keep finding these reserves of courage? I looked up in his eyes…and he got it. What. The. Fuck. Did I really think he could be the guy, even more than Barry ever had been?
Well, rather than dwell on it, I scooped the eggs on two plates, giving Scott the majority. My appetite was gone again, but I was going to eat a little. I kept one piece of toast for myself and gave him the other two and we sat at the table. I didn’t even put many peaches on my plate, but Scott loaded up. We were quiet for a while, and I was grateful. That heavy conversation had worn me out.
Scott looked over at my plate. “Is that all you’re gonna eat?”
“Yeah…I’m not too hungry.” I wasn’t going to tell him it was thanks to our conversation.
He looked around the kitchen. “So what time is it?”
I glanced at the clock on the coffeepot. “About nine-thirty.”
“I think I work at four.”
“Lucky. I have to be there at noon.”
He took another drink of his coffee and looked in my eyes. “Wanna come by my place after work?”
I smiled. That meant I hadn’t completely scared him off. “Isn’t this becoming a bad habit?”
He stabbed the last peach on his plate. “More like an addiction.” Meaning it was bad? I wasn’t sure what to say, but he looked at me again and said, “I saw you finished that drawing. That was fucking cool, Casey. I had no idea…” He took a drink from his coffee, emptying the cup. “Did you even sleep last night?”
I nodded my head. “Some. You can have it, by the way. Remember, I lost the bet.”
“The picture?” I nodded again. “Why don’t you keep it? That’d be kinda creepy, framing a picture of myself. Kind of…egomaniacal, right?”
I laughed. “Don’t you like it?”
“No, I do…but I think you’d appreciate it more.”
Well, he was right there. I would like it. I’d probably hang it up in my bedroom so I could gaze upon him whenever I felt like it. I nodded and then got up and scraped my plate in the trash.
“You probably have to start getting ready for work pretty soon, huh?” Yeah, I did and still part of me wanted to jump his bones one more time. Not a good idea, though, because with my lack of sleep, I’d probably just want to curl up and go to sleep after.
“Yeah…do you want me to give you a ride home?”
He got up and scraped his plate too. “Would you mind?”
“No. But did you want to shower first or anything?”
“Nah. I can shower at home.”
“Then let me get dressed.” I grinned and pulled his shirt off my head, revealing my complete nakedness underneath...except for a pair of lacy pink boyshorts-style panties. “Here’s your shirt.” I tossed it at him.
His eyes nearly jumped out of his head. “Whoa.” He started walking toward me as I giggled, backing up out of the kitchen. “Casey, that’s not fair.”
I cocked an eyebrow, still walking backward. “Not if I wanted a quick fuck before you left.”
He grinned and walked faster, but I turned around and ran to my bedroom.
He caught me before I reached the bed and sent me to heaven one last time before I had to take him home.
Chapter Thirteen
BEFORE I WENT to Scott’s that night, I searched through my drawings and paintings, trying to find one to give to him to keep since he didn’t want the drawing of himself. Then I remembered that I had two sketchbooks of musical instruments. A long time ago, I’d been on a kick of drawing scenes from concerts I’d attended; then I found it fun to draw instruments. Maybe I had a drum kit sketch in one of them.
While I looked through my books, my mind wandered back through the last twenty-four hours. So I’d been stupid. What if the infertile one had been Barry? What if I could get pregnant? I knew a guy pulling out wasn’t foolproof. The problem was that, even though there was always a chance, it didn’t feel possible. I’d told Scott I felt dead inside, and it was true. I had maternal urges but I felt like my womb was a lifeless desert.
I had to decide if I’d get on the pill.
I managed to find the sketchbook and had, by that time, put my pill dilemma in the back of my mind.
I was looking forward to seeing Scott. Yes, I was fully in love and I knew it now. And I was okay with it.
It seemed too soon since Barry, but I also knew Scott was a find, and I couldn’t bear to pass him up, even if the timing didn’t seem right. He was a good guy, sweet and strong, caring. And he was fucking hot, in a metal band, and an incredible lover. I didn’t think it could get better than that.
When I got to his place, David was home too, but he was waiting for Gerald to come pick him up when Gerald got off work around ten. They were watching a Batman movie. Scott and I shared the couch, and I just leaned back on his chest. He was warm, strong, and smelled so masculine but so clean. Every so often during the movie, he’d squeeze my shoulder or kiss my neck as I stroked his leg. I was so conscious of his breath, of his presence, and I hoped David wouldn’t say anything. He’d been trying to getting us together for a few weeks now, so I’m sure he was quite pleased that we were finally a couple. I hardly paid attention to the movie. Instead, I was aware of the two men in the room.
After the movie was over, David asked Scott when the next time Pain and Agony was playing. “Oh, shit,” I said and grabbed my keys out of my purse.
“What?”
“I left something in my car. Just a minute.”
Both men just watched as I walked out the front door. I had left the sketchbook in the backseat of the car and wanted to give it to Scott, and David talking about the band had jogged my memory. When I was getting into my car, Gerald pulled up. When I shut the car door, he said, “Hi, Casey.” I asked him how he was doing. “Great. I think I’ll be doing even better in about five minutes.”
I smiled. “I think you’re probably right.”
Once David and Gerald left, Scott said, “So what did you have to get out of your car?”
“This, but let me spread it out on your kitchen table.” So we went in the kitchen and I showed him all the rock and roll sketches.
“Shit, Casey. When did you do these?”
“A couple
of years ago. Do you like them?”
“Yeah…they’re awesome.”
“I want you to have them.”
He lifted his eyes from off the pages. “You sure?”
“Well, yeah…since you refuse to take the sketch I made for you.”
He grinned. “Thanks.” Then his face looked more serious. “Oh, fuck…I forgot. You left the CD I made for you in my truck. Let me go get it.”
“Just give it to me tomorrow. We’re…uh…alone right now and uh…”
He raised his eyebrows. “God, I love the way you think.” He pulled me in his arms but he didn’t kiss me. He touched his forehead to mine and asked, “Do you want to stay the night?”
Yeah…I wasn’t going to run away anymore. And instead of answering with words, I just kissed him. He said, “I’m taking that as a yes.” He grabbed my hand and led me up the stairs.
He closed his bedroom door with his foot and took control. I knew right then that he could have me any time he wanted. I hated feeling so out of control, and yet I loved it. I trusted him, loved him.
He picked me up and lay me on his bed. I hadn’t been here since leaving him alone on that fateful first night, and his room still seemed so masculine, so alive, so much like his haven and yet so full of energy.
And that was the vibe I got when we made love again. He was more masculine than Barry, and I’m not quite sure how to explain that. Barry was definitely masculine, but not like Scott. Scott felt hard and tough in the right places. He made me thrilled that I was a woman and the way he looked at me made me melt. And the energy…like he could go all night. But after…he had me roll on my side and he cuddled up behind me, holding me close, making me feel safe. I hadn’t been held like that in so long…probably not since the second year of my failed marriage. Scott made me feel beloved, nurtured even, something I hadn’t felt…well…ever. Not from my parents, my friends, or my ex-husband.
Then Kiss Me Page 15
