by Rachael Wade
“Please,” I whispered against his tongue, rolling my hips against him. “I need you, Jackson.”
Strong, willing hands found my breasts, and then the buttons on my dress. He deftly unhooked each one, intensifying his kiss and plunging his tongue into the back of my throat, stealing every ounce of space until I felt nothing but his warm, wet need. He reached the last button and slid the top of the dress down, pulling back to gaze at me. “You sure you want this?”
“Yes. Don’t you?”
“Hell, yes, I want it.” His hands followed the curves of my hips and rested firmly on my ass. “But once I start, I won’t stop until I’m buried in you. So tell me you’re sure, because—”
“Just make me feel good, Jack.” I shoved my mouth on his again, and he hummed with want, standing to lift and lay me down on the couch. He hovered over me, and my gaze danced across his neck, down to his stomach and chiseled waistline. Every part of him took control—his hands, his arms, and his voice.
“Damn,” his fingers trailed up my inner thigh, slipping beneath the skirt of my dress. He started massaging it, rubbing in small circles. “You’re trembling, Emma.” His knuckles grazed the edge of my thong. “And you’re so wet. Oh, I’m gonna make you feel real good, baby. You’ll see. Just relax.” He dipped his head down and grazed his tongue over the swell of my breasts, hooking a finger along my panty line, slowly running it back and forth, releasing a pleased groan when I shivered under his touch. I squirmed beneath him, lifting and tilting my hips, then reached for his jeans button. He snatched my wrists and pushed my arms above my head, pinning them against the pillow, returning straight to my breasts to work his tongue and teeth over them, teasing and tugging through the bra’s material.
I moaned and stretched out, arching my back off the couch, my fingers finding something beneath the pillow above my head. An underwire. Soft cups. Straps. I pulled it from beneath the pillow and my eyes rolled upward, landing on a red, lacy bra. Pushing up on Jackson’s chest, I struggled to lean up on my elbows and scurried backward on the sofa, pulling myself up and out of the cage his body had created over mine.
“Um, let’s just forget it. I should get home.”
Jackson rolled up on his knees, dazed and hard as a rock. “What? But—” His eyes fell on the bra. “Shit. Emma, wait,” he jumped up, watching me straighten my dress and slip my shoes on. “We don’t have to do this. We can just hang out. You can sleep some more or I can cook something else if you’re hungry. Don’t go.”
“Thanks, but I really should leave. I haven’t seen my mom since the funeral.”
“Shit, this is weird...”
I gave him an awkward smile, letting him know I wasn’t upset. But I still moved toward the front door. I couldn’t be another number in Jackson’s sea of faces...or red bras. And right now, he was my safe haven. A bubble I could enter whenever I felt the need, and could exit without ever being detected by the outside world. A place I could rest my head and exchange thoughts without saying a word. Because Jackson knew. Only he knew what I needed and why I needed it. No use ruining a good thing.
So I left and didn’t look back.
I shook my head at the memory of the dream, punching my fingers down on the alarm clock again as it let another sharp ring loose. The dreams had been more vivid lately, slamming my senses with every detail, reminding me just how much I missed him. I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand and stepped out of bed, eyeing the calendar next to my bedroom door.
May twentieth was finally here.
The past four months had been packed to the brim with exams, homework, long days at the nursing home, and restless nights filled with memories of the boy with the blanket. Graduation day came and went. I’d walked the stage while Whitney, Carter, Casey, and my mom snapped photo after photo, their smiles reminding me of the person I’d become and who I’d yet to be.
Things had died down when I’d found out that Jackson moved away. Whitney and Carter had argued for weeks, whispering whenever I was around, but neither one of them dared to mention what they were arguing about in front of me. I was certain it had something to do with Whitney urging Carter to tell Jackson to come home, but I never said a word. All I’d wanted was to mourn the loss of my good friend turned lover, accept that it was never meant to be, and move on with my life.
Eventually, Whitney let the anger go and there were no more fights with Carter, no more mention of Jackson at all. Carter didn’t relay a single message to me about him, and even Ruben and Jeff—when I ran into them occasionally at the grocery store or gas station—acted as if Jackson never existed. It’d become some sort of alternate universe. No matter how hard I tried to wrap my brain around it, I still didn’t understand how a man so stubbornly planted in his hometown, at one time so comfortable and at ease here, could simply get up and walk away from everyone and everything he knew. A part of me almost envied the decision, but then I’d catch a glimpse of the wide, red-colored ring around May 20th on the calendar, and the longing would disappear, knowing I’d be on my own way soon enough.
Along with school, graduation, and last-minute arrangements for moving day, I’d stayed busy with jogs on the beach—resuming the old routine I’d shared with Jen—and helping out at the local wildlife rehabilitation center. Volunteering and earning some hands-on experience with animals was fun, and it would increase my chances at snagging the aquarium internship I’d set my sights on in Seattle. The director of the program favored candidates with biological field research experience, which I already had, but I’d heard that animal care experience also gave me an edge.
A smile played on my lips as I stared at the calendar, relieved that eight hours from now, I’d finally be clear across the country, with my best friends by my side. Tomorrow was Carter’s friends’ wedding, and the day after that was devoted to scouring the city for some bargain furniture.
“You ready, chick?” Whitney asked, letting herself in. I was busy securing the lid on our to-go coffee cups, fresh and energetic from a morning run and a hot shower.
“Yup, let me just grab my last bag and we can go.”
“God, it looks so weird in here.” She sighed wistfully, turning and eyeing the empty apartment. Her lips started to pout and her eyes were glistening as she picked up her coffee. “So empty.”
“Whit, please don’t cry.” I tossed an arm over her shoulder, sizing up the emptiness with her. “This isn’t goodbye yet. You get a whole week with me in Seattle.” I kissed her on the cheek and leaned my head on her shoulder.
“It’s only a week,” she said, blubbering now, “and it’s there, not here. This is the last time I’ll ever be in this apartment. What am I going to do without you, Em?” She pivoted and wrapped me in a hug, her sobs tickling my hair.
“Hey, look at me, girl.” I pulled back and lifted her chin to deadpan her. “I know people say this shit all the time—that it’s just a plane ride away and blah, blah. And they never really take that plane ride. It’s all just a bunch of crap people say to make each other feel better, to make the goodbye easier. But I mean it, damn it. I’ll be home to visit my mom, and we’ll have plenty of time together. You can come stay with me anytime you want. Plus, I’m sure you can come with Carter whenever he visits his friends.”
“This isn’t a hop, skip, and a jump, Em. It’s a long flight. And an expensive one. I don’t have that kind of cash.” She pulled a tissue from her purse. “Shit, I’m sorry. I know, I know. This is supposed to be a happy day. I’m here to hug you and support you and tell you I love you. But I can’t help but feel like this is the end of something...something big. With our friendship, I mean. It’s all hitting me so hard, and I can’t—” she started bawling again, “I can’t handle it.”
“You’ll still have Carter and Casey. We can talk every day, I swear. And if money for a flight is what you’re worried about...well, I guess that just means I need to go kickass at school, get that degree, and snag a good job so I can pick up the tab.” I smiled at her, squeez
ing her shoulders. “You got this. You’re my BFF and no time, distance, or space will ever change that.”
“B-b-but who will I have cleaning marathons with?”
“Casey. I’ll be there in spirit.”
“She’s not neurotic and cranky like you.”
“You’ll miss that, ay?”
“Hell yes, I’ll miss that! When you’re obsessive and pissy, you tell those floors who’s boss. They won’t shine like that when Casey scrubs them. And don’t get me started on our Covenant Series discussions. The girl thinks Alex should pick Seth. Seth, Em. How can I clean with someone who isn’t Team Aiden? It’s like...madness. Madness on Earth. The fucking apocalypse—”
“Whitney,” I chuckled, squeezing her tighter, “I assure you, you’ll survive. The second she starts running her mouth about Aiden, just spray her with bleach. That’ll teach her a lesson.”
The sobs stopped, but her mouth was still jutted out in a pout.
“Make new memories, Whit. They won’t ever replace what we have, but they’ll bring you plenty of happiness. So wipe that look off your face and cheers to the future.” I clinked my coffee cup to hers and we both breathed deep, taking one last glance at my empty apartment.
It was going to be a long day.
***
After a bittersweet farewell lunch at Pete’s Tavern, Carter, Whitney, my mom and I all piled into the car to head to Southwest International Airport. Whitney and I had indulged in our favorite shrimp basket and rum runner meal, while Pete rambled on about the upcoming summer season and the latest songs he’d added to the restaurant’s karaoke selection. It was a lazy Friday afternoon, with only a few locals trickling into the bar for their lunch breaks and afternoon beers. An odd comfort filled the room, infusing me with a spark of irrational excitement.
I’d remembered how Jackson, Jeff, and Ruben’s laughter would blow through the front door, how the back of my neck prickled when I heard them walk in, knowing that at any moment, Jackson would be approaching me from behind. My insides would twist in anticipation of his smile, his playful jabs, and how I’d rehearsed the comebacks in my mind. I used to feel his eyes burning into me, could feel his smartass laugh roll over my skin and warm my blood. There was nothing like a good sparring match with Jackson after a long work week.
All of that anticipation was gone now, and suddenly, as I glanced around, Pete’s Tavern was a tomb. Not a morbid, depressing one, with wilted flowers and damp, musty smells, but a joyous memorial decorated in silver and gold. Irises and lilies. Warmth and sunshine.
Exactly how I’d preferred to remember it.
When we arrived at curbside check-in at the airport, it was my mom’s turn to cry. She squeezed me so tight I was sure I’d burst all over the pavement there, and some poor janitor would have to come mop up the mess. She smothered me in kisses and cleaning tips for my new place—as if I needed them—and sent us on our way, pulling on her big black sunglasses as she buckled her seatbelt. All that was missing was a black widow’s veil. She drove away with a limp wave, leaving me feeling even closer to my new destination.
“Ready to do this, kids?” Carter asked, gripping his and Whitney’s suitcase handles.
“Let’s do it,” I said, wheeling my suitcase behind me as I led the way through the sliding glass doors.
I toyed with Ms. Velma’s gift while we waited at our gate: her favorite Robert Frost collection, the one I used to read to her when she was feeling especially grumpy. Which was...well, every day. My gift to her was the romance paperback Jackson had surprised me with, the one that had given him courage to confess his feelings for me. I’d hoped the old paperback would give something just as special to Miss Velma. Smiling as I skimmed my fingers over the Robert Frost collection, I barely heard Whitney and Carter excuse themselves to make a coffee run.
When they got back, their body language was exactly opposite of what it had been all day: stiff, closed off, and full of agitation. Whitney’s arms were crossed and she was cursing under her breath, her cheeks red. She stalked away from Carter, deliberately sitting to my left, leaving me in the middle of her and Carter.
I shut my book.
“Uh...is everything okay?” I asked, eyes sliding back and forth between them.
“Peachy fucking keen,” she spat.
“Everything’s great,” Carter murmured.
“Ooookay...”
“Just don’t make me sit next to him on the damn plane.” Whitney jutted her chin toward her boyfriend, her shoulder and neck muscles clenching.
“Whit? What are you so mad about?”
Carter leaned in to me, speaking quietly. “Don’t worry about it, just let her stew.”
“Stew?” I whispered, eyeing her curiously. “She’s fuming. What did you do to her?”
“It’s what he didn’t do,” she seethed, leaning over me to glare at Carter. “Just you wait until we land, so help me God—”
“Oh, bloody hell.” Carter’s palm met his forehead, his fingers wrapping around the brim of his glasses. “This is going to be a really long flight.”
“Will someone tell me what’s going on?”
Whitney scoffed. Carter groaned.
I sighed.
I didn’t hear another peep from them until we boarded the plane. Whitney kept bumping into him, taking out her frustration with elbow jabs and hip punches, and he just shook his head and grumbled, shoving her carry-on in the overhead compartment.
Our smooth take-off sent us up and into the clouds, a dreamy view of the Gulf of Mexico leaving me with a final glimpse of the tropical place I no longer called home. Somehow, I managed to drift into a heavy sleep, waking to Whitney’s little-girl squeals in my ear. She was tugging on my shoulder, her face plastered to the window.
“What is it?” I asked, voice groggy.
“Would you look at that? God, it’s so beautiful! I never thought I’d see a hill, let alone a freaking mountain!” Her smile lit up like she hit the jackpot, her fingertips gripping the bottom of the window.
“It’s Mount Rainier,” Carter leaned over me to peek out, smiling himself when he spotted her face-splitting grin.
For a second, she seemed to forget her anger with him. “It’s so majestic....so breathtaking...so, oh my God, Carter, why the hell did you move to Florida when you had this?!”
“Haha, it’s pretty amazing, right?”
“Amazing doesn’t even begin to describe it.” I straightened and stretched, letting my chin fall on Whit’s shoulder, just as mesmerized by the sight. The sun was going down, the sky was clear, and the snow-capped mountain was begging for someone to reach out and touch it, just to confirm it was real and not some angelic vision on an artist’s canvas.
Landing was followed by a quick trip to baggage claim and a race to the rental car counter, where Carter assured us it was better than taking the Light Rail into the city, citing our large suitcases as reasons for avoiding public transit. Once the trunk was filled to the brim and we were warm and cozy in our compact, I was glad he’d insisted on the rental car. All I wanted to do was sit there and watch the lights and life of the city I’d waited so long to visit pass me by without having to worry about stops and lugging baggage on and off a train.
I watched through the window, gawking like a true tourist when the Space Needle, all lit up and surreal, appeared on the left. My stomach fluttered with excitement, wondering what everything would look like in the daylight. I was sure that seeing the mountainous backdrop and rugged terrain in postcards was nothing compared to seeing it all in person, and suddenly, I couldn’t wait to get to my new apartment and fall asleep, just so the morning would hurry up and get here.
We continued to whiz down the interstate and into the heart of the city, the cool night air filling the car as we drove with the windows down.
“Here we are, kids,” Carter announced, turning on his blinker to pull into a parking garage. I’d been so enamored with the sounds of cutthroat city traffic and the barrage of scents that am
bushed my senses that I hadn’t paid a single ounce of attention to which street we were turning on. “Thank God this place has an elevator.”
“It’s 8 p.m. and we haven’t eaten in over six hours,” Whitney said, stepping out of the car to stretch her legs and yawn. “Can we grab some dinner once we get our bags upstairs, guys?”
“Works for me,” I said. “You know any good places around here, Carter?”
Carter let out a faux haughty laugh and a pretentious, throaty tone, pretending to adjust a bowtie and top hat. “Do I know any good places? Please. I run this town. Be prepared to be dazzled.”
“Shit, babe, I’m not talking five stars over here. Cheap eats, please?” Whitney’s eyebrows rose and she yanked her bag from the trunk.
Carter’s normal voice returned. “I’m taking you to a pizza shack no bigger than my ass. Don’t worry.”
A pleased grin lit up Whitney’s face, before suddenly remembering she hated him, her nose scrunching. She snatched her backpack from him when he offered to carry it, and I laughed, giving up trying to understand their irrational bickering. I’d pry it out of her later, when we were alone and when she wasn’t acting like a 12-year-old.
Slipping the key into my new place felt just as surreal as seeing the city for the first time from the car window, filling me with all sorts of emotions, some of which I didn’t care to label just yet. If I labeled them, it meant I’d have to deal with them, and well, I just wasn’t ready for that yet. All I knew was I was elated, thrilled, and aching all at the same time. Visions of my mom, Jen, Jackson, and even Chris flashed through my mind, stirring up more feeling I didn’t know what to do with.
Shoving my bags down on the empty living room floor, I voted to channel that feeling into hunger and the need to see this pizza place Carter had been talking about.
“Okay, we need to eat. Let’s roll.”
