Stolen Tyme

by S. L. Ziegler

“Please, this time a condom.”

  Pulling the foil packet out of my pocket and putting it between my fingers, I ask, “This?”

  “You come prepared.”

  “No, I came with a story to tell you about this.”

  “You came to tell me a story about a condom? What is this a Trojan commercial?”

  “This is the last condom from the pack we bought.”

  The pack I bought when we were in her jeep and couldn’t keep our hands to ourselves. When being inside her was the thing to do.

  “Why would you bring that? It has to be expired by now.” The confusion clearly written on her face.

  “It was the last box I bought.”

  Naomi’s nostrils move, and the question on her face is screaming at me.

  “It was the last box I needed, because I haven’t been with anyone. After you left, there wasn’t a point. Now it’s your turn, tell me…do I need it for you?”

  “Not one?”

  “Not one single person.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s you, Naomi. You aren’t someone I can just fast forward through. I couldn’t even if I tried. And, babe, I didn’t even fucking try. I couldn’t. No other woman made me want them; no one could get my attention. I wasn’t lying when I said it was you.”

  “Fast forward?”

  “Yes, fast forward, skip the damn track to the next song, change-the-channel kinda woman. You aren’t that person. You are listen-to-it-on-fucking-repeat, over and over again, never-get-sick-of-the-song type of woman.”

  “But you said…” Her words choke her.

  I grab her face, studying her for a moment. “I know what I said, but I didn’t mean it. I loved you then, and if you’ll let me, I can love you now. It’s yours if you want it.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, not one girl. You were the last person I kissed, last I touched, last I wanted. Last everything. I know it’s not much, but I’m yours. You just have to give it a try.”

  “Holy shit.”

  Moving the foil packet between my fingers, I again ask, “Now, do I need this for you?”

  She doesn’t answer, but her gaze never leaves mine before she takes it from my fingers. And for a split-second, I feel my heart rip apart. I wanted to tell myself that if she were with someone, I would understand and move past it. Now, I’m not so sure. But with a light chuckle, she throws it over my shoulder.

  Nuzzling in the crock of my neck, her hold on me tightens. “No one. I couldn’t fast forward through you, either.”

  I take her necklace from her neck, the ring dropping into the palm of my hand before sliding it back onto her thumb.

  Where it belongs. ‘til I give her another one, on another finger.

  “Center,” I whisper.

  “Center.”

  I capture her lips with mine. We’re a fumbling mess getting our clothes off.

  As I enter her, she welcomes me, and I know I will never walk away from her. Her name is written all over me. I waited for the moment I would come alive with a touch that welcomes it. This time, when—if—she wants to leave, I won’t push her away but do the opposite. I’ll pull her even tighter to me and never let her go.

  I’ll love her the right way—for her.

  This time.

  Anything she wants, I’ll give it to her. With open fucking arms. No skipping the good part.

  The morning sun shines through my bedroom windows. Usually, that’s my sign to get up. But my arms are wrapped around Naomi, and I refuse to leave this bed with her still sleeping.

  She’s a fucking beauty—her hair shines in the light, and the marks I left on her skin last night glow. We made up for lost time. I had to get her off again and again.

  “What is your dick doing awake this early in the morning,” she asks groggily.

  “Your ass keeps hitting it every time you breathe. It just wanted to say ‘hi.’”

  “It can say ‘hi’ after I go pee and brush my teeth.”

  I tighten my hold, and my fingers lightly tickle her stomach.

  “Stop, X. I’m going to pee in the bed if you keep doing that.”

  “Okay, on that note, I’ll let you up.”

  “Thanks for that.”

  She runs to the bathroom, and the whole time, my stare is locked on the bounce of her ass.

  I get up and pull my boxers up as she walks out, only wearing my wrinkled T-shirt she stripped off me yesterday.

  “What are your plans today?” My eyes locked this time on the bounce of her tits—her fucking amazing tits I’ve missed so much.

  “X, the words come out of my mouth, not my boobs. So you may want to look at my face.”

  Grinning from ear to ear, I move to her beautiful face. “But they don’t talk back to me.”

  “Shut up, what are you doing today?”

  “Picking Charlie up from Reed’s, then dropping her off with Zoey for a little bit. I didn’t want to seem like the Grinch when Zoey asked.”

  Naomi rolls her eyes. I’ve noticed any small mention of Zoey makes her tensehell, it does me, too. “Oh, good for her. She was so keen on giving her daughter away for two weeks she only wants her for a few hours. I guess that makes up for her throwing her on you. If she were mine, I’d never do that shit. It’s like Charlie’s her pawn. Speaking of, we haven’t talked about what’s going on with the lawyers. Please tell me you have a shark on her ass to get full custody.”

  “It’s going. I got this guy named Marco, and as far as him being a shark, he better be with what I paid him as a retainer. Now it’s just when to pull the rug out from under her and file the papers. But she’d have to be an idiot not to know it’s coming after the night at the hospital. She has to.”

  One would think.

  “I’m going with the idiot part, and no matter when or how you do it, she’ll be surprised and be downright awful. I know you aren’t asking for my opinion, but Charlie seems happier with you. I can always tell where she’s been just by her demeanor in class. I know this is weighing heavily on you, but you’re doing the right thing.”

  I sigh, letting most of my feelings for being a single parent come out to the one person I know will give it to me straight and real. “Sometimes…I feel like it’s because I’m the fun one.” I drop my head in shame. I am the fun one.

  “Why would you say that?” Her brows raise, and her words hitch as she sits next to me, her legs touching mine.

  “Because I’m not the one doing the hard work.”

  Her soft hand wraps around my wrist. “Let me ask you a question. Well, a few. On the weeks you have her, do you help with homework? Or these last two weeks did you take her to doctor’s appointments? Or hell, even discipline her when she was misbehaving?”

  “Yes to all.” My body releases some of the tightness with my admission.

  “Then you aren’t just a fun parent, you’re a real one. The true one. I’m not a parent, and the way things are going, I won’t be one anytime soon. And I don’t want to pretend to know everything that goes on behind the scenes of being one. However, I do know the things that make one a good one, and that’s having a mixture of all that. And you have that in spades.”

  “I’m worried about her not growing up with Zoey around all the time. Even though she’s awful to Charlie most of the time and puts her own needs above her, a daughter needs her mother.” Glancing into Naomi’s eyes, the truth in her words stare back at me.

  “You shouldn’t. I’d much rather have one kickass parent than two half-time parents, and one of those a useless piece of crap. I’m sure Charlie feels the same. I had my dad, and Penny helped a good bit. But Pops was the one who told me about sex—granted, it wasn’t the best explanation. He brushed my hair and painted my nails, even if he got more paint on my fingers than my actually nail. The thought and effort were there. Lock took me prom dress shopping and even helped me get ready. You don’t need a mom for that. You just need a really good and understanding father. And X…you’re that.”


  “You sure?”

  I want the truth, the hard truth rather than it’s good or bad.

  “I’m positive. Plus, I can help you, too.”

  With my lips on hers, my heart feels like it beats harder—stronger. This stretch in time, when she says those words, I know the true meaning behind them, and the power of the punch they deliver.

  “Thanks. Now do you want to go and pick her up with me?”

  “No. You go. I’m going to hang with my old man. I can come back later, if that’s good?” She pulls herself off the bed.

  Dread creeps into my stomach. I should’ve said it before, but it wasn’t the right time. Hell, there never is a right time to bring something like this up. “Okay, but I need to let you know...” I run my fingers through my hair. “Um, this decision was made when we weren’t together. And the judge was actually the one who suggested it, and I went along with it since it didn’t matter at the time.”

  Her body goes rigid with nervous apprehension. “You’re scaring me, X. Just say it. Quick and to the point before I explode thinking it’s bad. With the way you’re acting, my brain is thinking horrible things. Like you’re still married or something even worse.”

  One.

  Two.

  Three.

  “You can’t stay over when she’s here.”

  Naomi instantly relaxes and lets out a giggle, lying back down on my bed. “Oh, I get that.”

  “You do?” I ask, lying beside her.

  “Yes. I don’t want to give her the wrong impression by us staying under the same roof. If you didn’t say it, I still wouldn’t have done it.”

  “You are the most understanding woman out there.” I drink in her closeness. She leaves me in awe.

  “That understanding only comes about once a month. So…that just filled my quota for the next thirty days. You’re shit out of luck for twenty-nine more.”

  “Good to know.” The sight of her body so close to mine—even after taking her all night long—makes my dick rock hard. “I need to take a shower.”

  “A shower?”

  “Yep. Want to join me?”

  “Is that your way of saying I smell?”

  “Negative, that’s my way of saying I really want to fuck you under the water.”

  “I think that sounds like the best damn idea of the day,” she says, hopping off my bed.

  My heart clenches. Last time, these were the moments that felt fleeting. But now, I know what I want without a doubt in my mind. I know this time, the things—these moments—will happen for the rest of my life.

  What a difference from the way I woke up yesterday.

  Chapter 10

  Naomi

  It’s unlike anything prior, us together has been the best we’ve ever shared.

  I feel whole.

  We feel complete.

  It’s lightning. It’s energy. It’s powerful. It’s a pull.

  And no hiding.

  Taking in his words, understanding the true meaning behind them is a relief. X not being able to push the time we spent together out of his mind sparked something new in me—it let my heart open up to him, again.

  I rip apart, exposing myself just for him.

  The curve of the line we were on, is now straight. And we put the fight in. Together.

  But it was something in his words—that he couldn’t fast forward the pain. I came to the realization I did just that—not with men, that was never my thing, but I used my work. The time from morning to night, I kept busy to comfort myself instead of dealing with the pain and guilt building inside head on. The lingering doubt I had in myself, I hid it. I covered it in all the shows I danced for, in the words I wrote for others. In the way I lived.

  Life moved on, and I fast forwarded through it all thinking our time was over, all while my heart still clung to X.

  And that time you can’t forget.

  With our reconnection, and all the meaning behind it, I’m glad he pushed me away. I can’t regret the decision he made for us…now.

  In my heart of hearts, I know he was right. If I had stayed here, I wouldn’t have learned about who I was, I wouldn’t have grown or seen things on my own. I wouldn’t know what true pain was.

  I wouldn’t know with certainty that he is the piece that would be missing.

  He was right. About it all.

  I wouldn’t be right here, in his house with his daughter, watching her while he’s gone out to his support group.

  Light and dark difference.

  I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Funny how things work out.

  “Ms. Naomi?” Charlie’s attention never veers away from her page of the coloring book. The way she poses my name as a question leaves her voice sounding hazy. As if she’s lost in a daydream.

  “Yes?”

  “Would it be okay if I just call you Naomi or Omi like Pops does sometimes?”

  “I would like that.” The grin forms on my face before her last word is out.

  “Good. Now, Omi, will you give me the blue? You’re hogging it.”

  Laughing, I hand it over. “Here.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Can I ask you another question?” Still never glancing my way, she fills the page with color.

  “Sure.”

  “Do you think Pops would let me go on a date?”

  My mouth falls wide open as my mind runs over her age. “Say what?”

  “There’s a boy at school, and he asked me to go to the mall.”

  Oh, sweet baby Jesus. I’m not ready—not even close, and she isn’t even my kid. “Mmmm. I’m not sure,” I answer carefully. But that was a lie…I could answer her with absolute certainty—it’d be a flat-out no. X won’t give it one second of thought.

  Xavier will have a stroke.

  Charlie’s going to be locked in her bedroom until she’s thirty.

  And somehow, this will end up being my fault.

  “It’s not like we’ll be sneaking off into the bathroom to make out. Kids just go and hang out at the food court, and since it would be a date, it wouldn’t cost Pops anything.” It sounds like she’s practiced this speech in a mirror—it’s not fazing her in the least.

  However, I’m slowly dying. Dead.

  Breathe in. Make out. They make out. She’s eleven. The urge to lock her up high in a tower grows stronger with each millisecond. Having a stroke with X might be the easier route.

  “Did you ask your mother?” This is a line I’m not sure how to cross, but I’ll do it slowly and tiptoe on it and through it. The trust she’s giving me is true, and I don’t want to break it. But Zoey is her mother. I may not like it. But I will respect it.

  “Please. She wouldn’t ever let me do it. She thinks I’m going to get pregnant just looking at the guys at school. A date at the mall would never be on her radar.” Charlie still doesn’t give me even the slightest bit of eye contact, coloring away as she talks about something that seems so much bigger than her.

  But she has all my attention. “What the what?” I grab ahold of her hand.

  Charlie pulls her face up, finally looking at me, her blond hair falling around her face. “I’m telling you no. I didn’t ask; she would say no. She says no to everything.” Charlie’s voice holds a poisoned bite to it, and I’m hanging on every word she says.

  But I can’t—won’t—come between her and her mother. Regardless of whether I agree with Zoey or not, I’m not Charlie’s mom, and it’s not right.

  “Then I don’t think it’s a good idea to go behind her back and ask your father. Charlie, you know that. Don’t you?”

  “But soon, I’m going to be living here full time, so why does it matter what she says anyway?”

  Charlie just hit me with the first dose of tweenage attitude, and I don’t like it one bit.

  “And how do you know that?”

  “Because Pops is going to get me.”

  “You’re awfully certain, Charlie.”

  “I’m eleven—Pops says it’s part of my age
.” Her attitude starts to vanish. “Omi, for real though, I didn’t think you would really talk to him even if I asked you to. So thanks for doing that. You seem like someone I can trust. But I’m not stupid. Now that you and Pops are dating, I figure you’ll tell him about the date because you’re together. You can’t hide it from him. It’s wrong for me to even ask.” She might as well be thirty with how maturely she’s handling this conversation.

  “Charlie, I want you to know that if you told me something that won’t change the outcome of your life, I would never tell him. I put all our differences aside because he deserved to know and to have the chance to get the ball rolling before anything was sprung on him. To your Pops, you are everything. You understand that, right? And you’re rubbing off on me now, too.”

  Lowering her head back down to the paper in front of her, she mumbles, “Sure.”

  “No. Charlie, look at me right now.” I wait until I gain her attention again. “I will never break confidence, never, if it isn’t about your wellbeing. You can come to me about anything, like you just did, and I won’t run to your father. Do you get that?”

  “I do, and thanks, Omi.”

  “My pleasure.”

  Her phone starts buzzing with a text, and the conversation is finished. I wish I was like her again, where the only thing I had to worry about was a boy liking me. But then again...that’s the only thing I’ve been worrying about.

  Perception from a tween.

  Gets you every time.

  “Do you want me to get your stuff packed for you, or are you ever going to leave the bedroom long enough to come up and do it yourself?” Tara asks over the phone.

  That question sends anxiety straight through my heart to the pit of my stomach. “I’m not sure if I want to give the place up. I need to think about it.” Think, then think some more. Then more. If I do it, my life will have officially changed. I need a list. A long list with one side of pros and the other side cons.

  Change doesn’t always work out for the best.

  “You need to start that thinking fast. Your lease is up in a month.”

  “I know, Tara, it’s just…I’m not sure where I’ll land when this rest and relaxation is over.”