by L. B. Dunbar
“If you met me earlier, you’d never be interested in a girl like me.” My brush-off-giggle attempted to lighten the moment.
“Why not?”
“I had commitment written all over me, and you, my friend, are a player.” It was his turn to smile sheepishly.
“I might not have been, had I met the right woman.”
“Well, it still probably wouldn’t have been me. Straight-laced, buttoned up tight, you wouldn’t have noticed the wallflower.”
“Maybe. But then again, the quiet ones always have a secret, wild side.” His eyebrows wiggled deviously up and down. I had to laugh, if for no other reason than the truth of his words. He did make me a little out of control when we were physically together. I would miss that part of him and me.
“I guess I did it all backwards with you,” I shrugged, trying to play off what I was about to say next. “I mean, I had sex with you first, when typically, you date first, then have sex. Who wants to climb uphill when you start at the top, right?” I huff-laughed.
“Emme,” he paused as we reached the crossroad again. His house was straight ahead. “I feel like I should ask you to dinner. Like a real date, but I have to work the next two shifts.”
“Oh.” I waved dismissively. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to do me favors. You already did, right?” I laughed again, the sound faltering. I wasn’t bitter. It was true. Merek Elliott had slept with me when I wanted someone to have sex with me. With the light of a new day, I tried to face the reality.
“Emme, that’s not what I meant.”
“I know, but I don’t really need dinner,” I said, stepping away from him in the direction of my home. “I think breakfast dates are better.” My smile hinted. His head tilted to the side.
“Breakfast dates?” he questioned, his brows pinching.
“Yeah, no one ever has breakfast dates. Eggs, bacon…coffee, too, I suppose. It sounds much better than a stuffy dinner.”
“Breakfast dates?” The curve of his lip exposed that damn dimple. We lingered in the side street for a moment. I wasn’t ready to say those final two words. I slowly sauntered away from him, stepping backward while I faced him. Almost across the street from him, I turned for home.
“How about Thursday morning?” He called out to me. “I know the perfect place nearby.” I turned back to face him and signaled the direction of his house with his head.
“What are we doing?” I laughed, shaking my head.
“We’re making a date. For breakfast.”
For a week straight, we met. We walked together and I looked forward to each date, as he called them. I missed the touch of him, and he didn’t reach for me, but we talked. He shared anecdotes of the firehouse and how he really wanted to be an architect. I knew the reasons why he wasn’t. He told me about his parents who had both died: his father from complications during a fire, his mother from cancer over a year ago. He’d lived with them while he raised his children, and he told me his family was everything to him. His younger brother was his best friend, even though he was upset that Marshall wasn’t taking his future fatherhood seriously.
Not wanting to bog him down with tales of Nate, I shared with him how I loved reading and dabbled with writing. I always wanted to write the great American novel, emphasized by air quotes. He said I was smart enough and I laughed. Smart was never something I’d heard from Nate. He didn’t believe in that dream of mine, and after his first negative comment in regards to writing in general, I held that dream a secret. Merek knew I taught literature and it turned out Cassie was in my sophomore level course on short stories in the new semester. She needed to make up a credit or three before she was fully admitted to junior status.
I enjoyed our time together, but each day I felt a little emptier when we parted. There was no hint anything else would happen between us. Merek and I were clearly becoming friends, and as I had said to him one day, everyone could use new friends. However, friendship wasn’t the only thing I wanted with him, and I realized it was time to either take action or walk away. The problem was, I had no clues from Merek which direction he wanted things to go. He was honest and direct, if he had to work at the club, or if he had a shift. He didn’t mention dates, or arrangements, or any other sexual innuendo, and I could only hope he wasn’t with other women.
On a Monday, we were supposed to meet once again, and for the first time, Merek didn’t show. I waited patiently for fifteen minutes. I still had his number, but I didn’t want to use it, not wanting to appear needy. Need passed to concern, and at the fifteen-minute mark, I texted him.
You coming?
It sounded so suggestive and I laughed out loud, literally. Hopeful he’d find it humorous as well, I panicked when he didn’t respond after two minutes. I took one more final look toward his street, and decided I needed to walk off the steam building inside me. I’d been stood up.
The forest preserve trail, throughout Chicago, twisted and curved through sections of woods scattered among the city neighborhoods. For some reason, Robert Frost’s poem, “A Road Not Taken,” filtered into my mind, and I focused over and over on the concept of two roads and divergence. I’d been on one path my whole life. I married my college sweetheart. We had the two kids, the perfect home, and the appearance of an ideal life, but I can’t say I was ever happy. I should have been. God forgive me, I should have been. The road was well traveled in the direction I paced. And even with the bump of Nate’s affair, I still stayed on the path. But I was ready to diverge.
Merek might not be the man for me, but he had sparked something long-repressed. He was the opposite of all that I had known. His fireman status, colorful tattoos, and player mentality were very different from Nate’s clean cut, business suit, accountant ways. I wanted to veer off on the road less travelled, which was scary and unknown, but thrilling. While I loved learning about Merek as a person, I could not deny, I loved what his body had done to me weeks ago. I was the road less travelled; hardly noticeable, but still present under the decay of years. And like the great poem, either path might result in the same destination, but it was the journey I needed to enjoy.
I returned home a bit somber from my walk and noticed I had three missed calls from Gia. I didn’t understand how I could miss them as the phone was in my hand, but I was still considered technologically incapacitated when it came to all functions of the phone.
Clicking into the first voice mail, Gia’s voice was calm but adamant: Call me.
The second sounded a bit frantic: Emme, have you heard anything?
The final one, complete panic: OMG! Call me immediately.
Pressing her contact, I didn’t hear one ring before she answered.
“Holy horses, where’s the fire?” I laughed.
“You haven’t heard?”
“Heard what?” My voice lowered, my heart rate increased.
“There’s a five alarm fire off on Northwest Highway. A lumberyard caught fire last night and the blaze has been going strong through the night. Merek’s unit is there.”
“How do you know this?” I exhaled.
“I watch the news.”
“Not that, about Merek.”
“Jacob’s home alone. I went to check on him.”
“Where’s Cassie?”
“Jacob doesn’t know.”
“Oh my God. This is terrible. And Merek?”
“He’s been part of the team on the scene. He was interviewed at some point and he was on the news. But Emme, the building collapsed and some men are unaccounted for at the moment.”
“Dear God,” I whispered. The reality of Merek’s job caught up to me. He mentioned the training and the strength needed to battle a blaze. Physical upkeep was important for jobs like his.
“What should I do?”
“Text Merek, although I doubt he’ll answer.”
I hung up and texted immediately.
Are you okay?
I didn’t have Jake’s cell phone number, and like most modern people, Merek
didn’t have a landline phone. Sometimes, I hated modern technology. Hours passed and I heard nothing. What should I do? I wondered. What would I do if he were injured? Easy, go to the hospital. What if it were worse? I refused to think that way but thoughts of Nate’s heart attack and death tapped at my brain. I couldn’t lose Merek. We’d just started forging a new path with each other. I wanted to see where the trail would take us. I wasn’t ready to lose him.
By noon, I couldn’t take the unknown and I drove over to Merek’s house, my heart hammering in my chest. Jacob answered the door.
“Hey.” His surprised voice turned to a smile.
“Hey. How are you?”
“I’m good. Everything’s good. My dad’s upstairs.” My shoulders sagged in relief.
“Is he…is he okay?”
“Yeah, he’s always fine, he says.” Jacob shrugged. I imagined this was common reassurance from father to son, so he wouldn’t worry about the dangerous jobs.
“He’s making me go to school,” he said, hitching up the strap of his backpack. The local high schools already started, but my college courses didn’t begin for another week. “But you can come in and wait, if you’d like. He’s in the shower.”
“Well, I just…”
“I know he’ll want to see you,” Jake smirked, like a teenager would. He held the door open wider for me, and I stepped inside the cool front hall. “Cassie isn’t home,” Jake offered, then walked out the front door. This seemed like odd information to share with me. Standing in the entry way, I didn’t know what to do with myself. Should I make myself at home, as the saying goes? I didn’t want to startle Merek. I figured the kitchen might be a good waiting spot, or maybe his family room, where he could see me from his descent down the stairs. After a few minutes of awkward pacing, I decided waiting wasn’t an option. The road less travelled was instead.
I climbed the stairs slowly, but my heart beat rapidly increased. Reaching the top landing, I heard the steady sound of a shower in the direction of Merek’s room. I entered hesitantly, calling out his name, but my voice squeaked quietly. My hands shook as I knocked on the bathroom door.
“Merek,” I said, still too low.
“I can’t hear you, come in here.” My head whipped upward. He couldn’t have meant me. He must have thought I was one of his kids.
“Merek,” I called out, as I gently pressed forward the door. He hadn’t answered me and my breath caught. A plopping noise came from the tub, as if he rinsed out his hair.
“Merek,” I said louder and the curtain slid open. That breath I held, I swallowed it whole and choked. Before me stood a god of a man with streams of water gracing his body in all manner of direction.
Can’t breathe, my brain shouted.
Need to touch, my hands twitched.
“Emme,” he struggled, wiping water from his face.
“I…” My thumb pointed over my shoulder, but it was the only motion I made. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t draw air. I could only stare at toned muscles teeming with rivulets of water. I was so thirsty, so, so thirsty.
He leaned forward. The spray still hitting his back. His hands reached forward and gripped the front of my shirt. Instantly, my chest was soaked and my mouth crushed. He was already taller than me, but standing in the tub made him even taller. He bent his knees to scoop up my behind and drag me upward. I balanced on the edge of the tub, not breaking the connection of our lips and tongue.
“Oh God, are you a vision?” he muttered.
“My God, you are,” I mumbled, still keeping his lips under mine. My arms wrapped around his neck. The front of me soaked through from his wet body pressing against me. I kicked off my flip flops while his hands maneuvered my damp shirt over my head. He tugged me into the shower and slid the curtain closed.
“I was so worried about you,” I said, brushing back tendrils of his hair which stood out all wet and wild.
“You were?”
“Yes.” I nodded vigorously before his mouth crushed mine briefly. “You could have been injured. Or worst. And then you’d be lost to me, and I couldn’t live without…” His mouth stopped my ramblings.
“I’m fine,” he muttered over and over. “I’m okay.”
I nodded, continuing to rub my hands over his body, affirming his presence.
“How worried were you?” His tone teased while his hands deftly unbuttoned my shorts and he pushed them toward the tub.
“Very, very,” I eagerly replied, before taking his mouth back with mine.
“You’re very, very wet,” he teased.
“Yes, I am,” I answered breathlessly. “Yes, I am.”
He laughed knowingly.
“You’re kind of a horny woman, Emme.”
My hold released and I stared up at him.
“Is that bad?” I asked, sheepishly.
“Are you crazy?” he laughed, placing his hands on either side of my face, and taking my lips once again.
Within minutes, the remainder of my soaked clothes were removed and his hands roved over my body. Our palms rediscovered one another and I didn’t shy away from the slow drag of his fingers over my curves. Those fingers found the place longing for him and my own wrapped tightly around him. Solid, velvet steel rested in my palm, ready to take me, and yet, he dragged out the foreplay, until I nearly fell over.
“Let’s step out.” He reached for the faucet and turned off the water. We stood in his bathroom only briefly facing each other before he spun me in the direction of the large mirror over his sink.
“See that,” he said, pointing my attention to the naked reflection in the glass. “That is a beautiful woman.”
I smiled despite myself and his mouth nipped the juncture of my shoulder and neck. Sucking on me, my knees buckled and I gripped the sink counter. His hands remapped my body until his fingers found a home and I came so quickly I screamed.
“I’m so tired,” he said, “but I don’t want to move. I want to watch you like this.” Understanding his meaning, I leaned forward, letting the length of him drag over my backside. I wasn’t as tall as him, and I lifted a knee to the counter to level with his height. He slipped into me instantly, and we groaned in unison at the long-awaited connection.
“Mother of all things holy,” he moaned as he hammered in and out of me. The position allowed him to hit something deep inside me, but when his fingers returned to the achy nub of pleasure, I thought I’d take too long to crash again.
“No, I’m okay,” I said brushing away his hand, and wanting him to take his own pleasure from me.
“I want two,” he muttered, forcing his hand back to my center.
“I can’t,” I grunted as he filled me.
“You will.” He teased, he toyed, and I gave in. The orgasm washed away my fears of his safety and our status. He joined me, filling me as he pulsed deep inside, matching the rhythm of my heart.
We tumbled to my bed, replete from the bathroom acrobatics. I couldn’t believe her flexibility at times. I couldn’t believe she still wanted me. Opening the curtain, I thought I was dreaming. Her standing there all wide eyed, like she can be. How I wished I could read her mind. The wheels were always spinning inside her. But I instantly realized she’d come to me, and she stood in my bathroom full of concern for me, while I remained naked and wet, which was exactly how I wanted her to be.
She didn’t deny me, and I was so thankful to have her in my arms, and in my shower. Making love to Emme was the last thing on my mind when I went to work the day before. In fact, the thing on my mind was the slow burn sparking between us. We’d done things backward like she said. We started with the fire, but needed to step back from the blaze. Only from the moment I met her, there had been a spark. These days of walking and talking and breakfast dates were only increasing the flame, but I wasn’t getting a sense of direction from her.
She was reserved while she teased. She’d make comments and retract them so quickly I didn’t know what she meant. But here she lay in my arms, on my bed, in m
y home.
“Oh my God, where’s Jacob?” I blurted, completely forgetting for a short time that I had children.
“He left for school. He told me to wait for you and he let me in,” she said, twisting back her damp hair.
“What about Cassie?” I swallowed hard, recalling the fight Cassie and I had before I went to work last night.
“Jacob said she’s out.”
The mundane conversation seemed so real, so natural, like she was my wife and I was getting a rundown of my children. The thought threw me off and I fell back on my pillow, staring up at the ceiling.
“You okay?” she whispered, bracing herself on her side, propping her head up with a hand.
“Yeah.”
“Want to tell me about the fire?”
“It was your typical blaze that got out of control. More departments were called in and we were one of them. I…” I stopped. Explaining the ins and outs of my job seemed surreal, too. She was naked in my bed, and she asked about my day. The concept was so refreshing. I’d never had this before. I rolled my head to face her.
“What’s happening here?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at her.
“I’m asking you about your day, and…”
“No. I mean us. What just happened? You here now. What is going on?”
“Well, I… I was worried and I came over to see if you were home. Then I saw you in the shower and one thing led to another.” She smiled, but it slowly disappeared from her face as her eyes lowered and her fingers played with the coarse hairs on my chest.
“One thing led to another?” I stated, shifting to my side to face her. “I like you, that’s what happened.” I brushed back a wet strand of her hair.
“I like you, too.”
I waited for her line, but it didn’t happen.
“Is this allowed?” I asked, smiling slowly.
“I hope so,” she whispered, those blue eyes opened wide.
“Friends?” I nodded.
“With benefits?” she added, twisting her lips before they broke into a smile.
“How about the benefit is being your friend,” I said.
