by Clare Murray
I snorted, glad that he was back in a joking mood. “Autocorrect is the devil.”
“It seriously is. I texted my brother that I was going to go visit our aunt and my phone autocorrected that to cunt. He’s never let me live it down. I’m just happy I sent the text to him and not someone else.”
I snorted and Jude grinned, but then he went all deep in thought again, holding my hand without really paying attention to anything. “Hey, I’d better go help Salvador with the finishing touches on the pond. I’ll see you this evening, okay?”
“All right.” I stood on my tiptoes to kiss him. He kept the goodbye short and sweet. Striding down the path away from me, he fished the phone back out of his pocket and put it to his ear.
I swallowed hard. Suddenly I didn’t want to be alone in the cabin. Since I wasn’t about to go running after Jude, I grabbed my swimsuit and towel and made my way toward the communal hot tubs. Were it not for this fling with Jude, I would have spent most of my time soaking and enjoying the tranquility of the surrounding zen gardens.
The hot water did nothing to ease my growing apprehension, however. I got out after a while, raking zen garden sand with a miniature tool and re-arranging quartz stones. Even that didn’t take my mind off Jude.
He said he was single, but he could have been lying. That thought made me wince. Maybe I should confront him, make him show me the texts? I dismissed that idea pretty quickly—no sense coming across as some crazy harridan over what was supposed to be a quick fling. Yeah, he’d spoken about the future, but to him the future probably meant “tomorrow”.
The late summer sun had baked most of the remaining moisture off my skin by now, so I headed back to the cabin to shower and change. I would spend lunch socializing with Zara—the trust-fund baby had checked out yesterday—and be patient until this evening.
* * * * *
You better get here. The brevity of the second text told Jude all he needed to know. Handing his tools to Salvador, he raced for the staff parking lot and peeled out on his motorcycle. The wind tore his curse words into inaudible shreds, but he yelled them anyway, pissed at the world and its stupid rules.
The one damn bright spot he had left in the world was about to spark out. No—that wasn’t entirely true, he reminded himself. There was Alanna. They were on the fourth night of their one-night stand and heaven help him, but he was falling in love with her.
Stupid of him to go off without her contact number, but he needed to hurry.
Lowering his head into the wind, Jude gunned the Harley, hoping he’d make it home in time.
* * * * *
The moon was bright over the distant trees. Zara had offered to keep me company, but I’d declined, preferring she spend some quality time with Salvador. Right now it was coming up to midnight…and Jude was a no-show.
His motorcycle was missing from the lot. I’d gone and checked like some lovelorn teenager. Right now I felt totally out of the loop, unable to email or text anyone to blow off steam. Sure, there was a landline, but who the hell remembered actual phone numbers these days when you could just press a button labeled MOM or CHARLOTTE.
There was a JUDE-shaped hole in my phone and I knew it. Maybe it would always be there. Maybe he’d be back tomorrow morning like it wasn’t anything. I was no expert on relationships anyway. I finally went to bed, too tired to entertain any more what-ifs.
When I woke up, I was still alone and the phone was ringing. I flung myself at it, but it was only the receptionist’s recorded wake-up call. I listened to it with a sinking heart, then got out of bed. I didn’t feel like eating, but it was my last day at the retreat and I wanted to see Zara one last time.
I stripped out of my oversized t-shirt and lady boxers and took a quick shower. It was so sunny outside my hair was half-dry by the time I reached the main hall. There was no sight of any landscapers on the way there.
“It’s granola and berries again today,” Zara said by way of greeting. “How was last night?”
“Jude was a no-show, actually.” I kept my body language as nonchalant as possible, but my voice had a little hitch to it. Stupid emotions. This was worse—far worse—than all the last days at Girl Scout camp combined. Ramped up as they were, teenage hormones didn’t hold a candle to the way I felt about Jude’s wordless departure.
“Wait—what? Why?” Zara turned her full attention on me.
“I don’t know. He got a text yesterday and seemed kind of torn up about it. He said he’d see me again but his Harley was gone all evening.”
“I’m really sorry to hear that.” Zara’s sympathy meant a lot. I mustered up a smile, appreciating her presence.
“Thanks. I’m leaving today, anyhow. Got to get back to work. It’s a fairly new job, so I can’t afford to slack.”
“Do you regret coming here?”
“No,” I said instantly. It was the truth—I didn’t. Even if Jude’s interaction with me had been limited to a one-night stand, this fling would have been worth it. The only thing I regretted was leaving on an uncertain note.
Mind-blowing sex or no, what I had with Jude wasn’t a real relationship. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other and we talked far into the night about everything ranging from condoms to high school to favorite TV shows…but we lived in different parts of the state. Chico was a pretty long drive from the Bay Area and we had our separate lives to deal with.
But maybe it was better this way, with no long, drawn-out goodbyes. No promises we wouldn’t keep.
“Want some strawberries?” Zara asked.
“No thanks. I hate the seeds getting stuck in my teeth.” I ate the last few bites of granola. “I’m going to go back and start packing.”
“You all right?” Zara asked.
I dredged up another smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just give me a few days to get over this. I always knew it wasn’t going to last.”
“Wait, did he say it wasn’t going to last?”
“Not in so many words, but I’ve been dumped twice and I know how to read the writing on the wall.” I had to shut myself down quick or I’d start crying.
Zara wagged her index finger. “Nuh-uh. You’ve been blindsided by him upping and leaving, but that’s no excuse not to leave your number and email address with me. I’ll give the info to Salvador and ask him to pass it on. And,” she paused for breath, “if he doesn’t pass it on, I’ll spank him. He likes that.”
That startled a giggle out of me. “All right. I’ll leave my info, but I won’t expect anything.”
Not expecting anything was always the easiest route. Although I had to admit that had been the downfall of my last two relationships. Eventually both of them had petered out through lack of motivation, going from dinner-and-a-movie to just a movie to a DVD to…well, nothing. Perhaps short and sweet really was better.
Once I was finished packing, I loaded my BMW and came back to hug Zara. She was here for another week. Guided meditation and the general environment of the retreat really seemed to be helping her deal with grief. And of course there was Salvador.
Goodbyes said, I gave in to the impulse to walk all the way to the staff parking lot. No Harley awaited me, but I smiled as I remembered that moonlit ride. Nothing could take that memory away from me.
It was long past checkout time before I could bring myself to get into the car. Before driving off, I sat checking all the texts I’d missed, the outside world slowly coming back to me. There were a lot of words but I really hadn’t missed all that much.
Unable to delay any longer, I finally started the engine and began the long drive home.
* * * * *
The wind coming into his face through his helmet visor caused his eyes to stream. They weren’t tears—he’d cried them all last night at the vet’s. Pepper was dead.
The old retriever had clung to life for several hours after Jude came home, but he knew that the dog wasn’t going to make it through the night without suffering. So he’d had to locate a vet with late office hours an
d drive Pepper in his brother’s truck up north to someone who could put him down humanely.
Upon returning to the retreat, he had found Alanna gone. The one bright spot in this whole mess was the fact that she’d left her number and email with Salvador’s new girl. But Jude had gone one step further, using his free run of the retreat to access the files on Alanna Shelby.
He knew a simple phone call or email wouldn’t be enough. He had to see her in person. He had to know whether this was more than just a fling.
As he raced down the highway, he sincerely hoped it was.
* * * * *
I walked into a clean apartment, blinking in brief astonishment. I hadn’t left things this tidy. Even the bed was made. There was a note on the counter from Mom, and I read it with a smile despite my heartache over leaving Jude.
I slumped onto the couch, flipping the laptop open. With no way of contacting him, I was helpless to change the situation. That should have provided closure to the issue, made things easier to accept. I wouldn’t be able to subject Jude to plaintive emails or phone calls—or worse, drunk-dialing. This way it was over, done and dusted, with no way back.
And I felt utterly awful about that.
Fuck it, I was going to order a pizza. I picked up the phone, arranging a large pepperoni, extra cheese, to be delivered in twenty minutes. I really didn’t feel like cooking tonight.
While waiting, I checked on random gossip and read Charlotte’s emails. She was getting better and wanted to hear everything about Daydream when I was ready to tell her.
I definitely wasn’t ready.
The rumble of an engine outside heralded the pizza’s arrival. I answered the door barefoot, clad in a frumpy t-shirt and jeans that had seen better days. At least I would spend this Friday night comfortable physically—if not emotionally. Tears welled up.
Great timing—breaking down just as I opened the door. I peered at the delivery man’s chest through watery eyes. “Thanks,” I mumbled, and handed over a twenty.
“You’re welcome, babe. Mind if I come in and have a piece?”
My head snapped up at the familiar baritone voice. The tears fell down my cheeks, clearing my vision. “J-Jude?”
“Hey, why are you crying?” He came in as I stepped back to let him by, setting the pizza and his helmet on the table before turning to me. He wiped away the tears with his thumbs and I closed my eyes, luxuriating in his touch.
“I thought we’d broken up.” I hiccupped the last word and wished I could retract the entire sentence. “I mean, not broken up… Our fling came to an end. We were never going out, I know.”
“Our fling?”
“Our four-night stand or whatever it was.” I kept my gaze down, still digesting the fact that he was here. And I really didn’t want to drive him away by demanding any sort of commitment.
“Wait, was it really just a four-night stand to you?” His voice sounded kind of pained, and I looked up in surprise. His eyes were red, whether from wind or emotion I couldn’t tell.
“No,” I whispered, knowing he deserved the truth. “It was more than that.”
That was all the excuse he needed, apparently, to crush me to his chest. His arms shook as he held me close. “I’m really sorry I stood you up last night. My dog was pretty sick and I had to rush home to be with him while the vet put him to sleep.”
“Pepper?”
“Yeah.”
“God, I’m really sorry. Are you okay?” What a stupid thing for me to say. Of course he wasn’t okay. And here I was assuming he’d broken up with me. As if I were the center of the universe or something.
“I’ll be fine. I just don’t want to be home right now, thinking I hear Pepper walking around. I can’t deal with his stuff yet either. His water bowl and leashes. And the job at Daydream’s over too, so I can’t stay there. So I went on a really long ride after getting your details from Zara.” He gave me a lopsided grin.
“Stay with me,” I said.
His arms tightened. “You’d be okay with me spending the night?”
“Or longer, if you’d like.” The words hung between us, easily destroyed.
“I’d like that.” His hands slid up my shirt, and he huffed in amusement when he found me braless again. “There are still a few types of condoms we have yet to try.”
I backed up slowly, leading him toward the bedroom. My bed wasn’t going to remain neat and tidy much longer by the look of things. “What haven’t we tried?”
He pulled a couple of packets from his pocket. “Flavored or studded?”
“Studded.”
The moment I made my choice he was kissing me again, shucking his leather jacket as I stepped out of my jeans. I helped him with his pants, both of us scrambling to get the condom on before we couldn’t wait any longer. Then he was bearing me down onto the bed, almost ripping my shirt off in his haste.
He dipped lower, taking one breast into his mouth, my nipple tightening as he sucked hard. Then he went lower still, and I arched off the bed with need. At this rate I was going to lose control fast. And keep losing it, if I knew anything about Jude.
He pinned my thighs open and I closed my eyes, sinking into ecstasy as his tongue pleasured me. When I was close, I reached out to grip his head, shamelessly holding him close as I came.
The neighbors were going to have something to talk about at this rate. But I didn’t care, my head spinning as he braced himself and plunged inside me. He closed his eyes as he fucked me hard and fast, drawing my legs up so they rested on his shoulders.
“Alanna—fuck, I needed this. I need you.”
“I need you too.” That ended in a gasp, and then all I could do was moan. My eyes squeezed shut as the second orgasm took me, so hard on the heels of the first one that I was completely drained by the time the aftershocks quit happening.
Jude cried out my name, half-collapsing as he finished. His weight was warm and welcome, and I held him close as he remained inside me. Relaxing for the first time all day, I inhaled his smell—masculine, mixed with the faint smell of leather and aftershave—and thanked my lucky stars he’d been ballsy enough to get my address and come find me.
I sighed in contentment. If this were a quarter-life crisis, it could last forever as far as I was concerned.
About Clare Murray
Clare Murray was born and raised in the San Francisco Bay Area, living aboard a boat with her parents until the age of three. She has a degree in Journalism and has worked in libraries in both California and London. In 2006 she moved to England, where she now lives happily with her husband and two children.
Clare welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Quarter-Life Fling
ISBN 9781419903601
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Quarter-Life Fling Copyright © 2013 Clare Murray
Edited by Raelene Gorlinsky
Cover design by Syneca
Cover photography by Nefalls – Remy Muser/shutterstock.com
Electronic book publication October 2013
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