“Are you…okay now?” he asks tentatively, his eyes never wavering from mine.
I wipe my mouth with my napkin and push back slightly from the table. “Yes, I’m fine. My last biopsy was June second four years ago. That’s when my oncologist told me I was back in remission, so I’ve considered myself cancer free ever since then.”
He smiles as his shoulders relax in evident relief. “And it won’t come back?”
“Well, I suppose it could…but my doctor seems optimistic that it won’t. Especially since I’ve gone this long without it relapsing again. I mean, I just have a feeling it won’t, if that makes sense. I feel great – stronger than I did before the first time it came back.”
His eyes are riveted on me with an expression akin to reverence – it’s making me a tad uncomfortable. I flash him one more reassuring smile, then stack his plate on top of my own and head to the sink with it.
“Leave it, I can do the dishes,” Kyle says as he comes up behind me. “We don’t have a dishwasher.”
I turn on the faucet anyway, letting the hot water flow over the plates while I scrub at them with a sponge. “I don’t mind,” I tell him. “You cooked, I’ll clean.”
He turns around and leans back against the counter next to me, trying to catch my gaze. I remain focused on the dishes, rinsing away the soap bubbles before placing them in the dish rack on the opposite side of the sink. I’ve just shut off the water and begun shaking my wet hands over the basin when Kyle softly catches my upper arm. When I glance at him I’m surprised by the pleading in his eyes.
“I’m sorry I asked you about it,” he says. “You probably don’t like talking about it. I promise I won’t talk about it again unless you bring it up.”
I sigh and lean my hip into the counter next to him as he releases his hold on my arm. My heart hammers in my ribcage in response to the proximity of our bodies and my perceived intimacy of the moment. “It’s totally fine, Kyle. I didn’t mean to act the way I did. It’s sort of like a defense mechanism for me. A big part of the reason I wanted to come here was to get away from the people I grew up around, because I was tired of them looking at me like they felt sorry for me. I wanted to meet people who could see me without immediately drawing a connection to my illness.”
He nods in understanding. “That doesn’t mean I don’t want to be your friend,” I ramble on, not at all sure where I’m going with this. “It’s actually really helpful to be around familiar faces – you just have to promise me you won’t think of me as ‘the girl who had cancer.’”
His eyes crinkle as he smiles down at me. “You have my word, Tawny Read.”
My heart soars at his utterance; I open my mouth to thank him, but I stop short when I hear a key turning in the front lock and the sound of female voices. Kyle turns and our moment slips away. A girl pops her head in the doorway and says, “Were you planning to use the TV tonight? They came over to watch some movies.” She tilts her head back, indicating the two or three other girls currently chattering in the living room.
“That’s fine,” Kyle replies. She nods and disappears. Kyle looks back down at me and says, “That was my roommate. She’s not big on introductions – sorry about that.”
“That’s okay.” I look at him, waiting, wondering what will happen next. Will he escort me back out to his car and drive me back to my dorm? Or did he have something else planned?
“Oh! I almost forgot dessert,” he says suddenly. He whirls around and reaches up on his tiptoes to retrieve something from the top shelf of one of the cupboards. “Close your eyes,” he commands.
I giggle as I submit. I hear the crinkling of plastic as he moves whatever it is closer to me. “Okay, open them.”
My eyelids flutter open to see a package of Oreos, and I look up at the huge grin on his face. I squint in faux mistrust and ask, “Did you call my mother and ask her what all my favorite foods are?”
He laughs. “You like Oreos?”
“No. I love them,” I reply matter-of-factly.
“Sweet. Let’s go get Oreo-drunk.”
Chapter 6 – Oreos
Saturday & Sunday, August 19 & 20
Tawny – Saturday, 8:30 PM
Of course, you can’t have Oreos without milk. I pointed this out, and after Kyle realized I was being perfectly serious, he indulged me by driving me to the gas station on the corner to buy a half gallon of two percent. Once we’ve pulled back into his driveway he suggests we watch a movie in his room, being as the TV in the living room is tied up.
Shelley and three girlfriends are lounging on the couches when we walk in, staring raptly at the television. I can’t help feeling a little awkward as we parade before their line of sight and head down the dark hall in the direction of Kyle’s bedroom. I wonder what they’re thinking, or if they’re even giving it any thought at all. Escorting girls to his room may be a nightly occurrence for Kyle for all I know.
He pulls a chain to turn on a floor lamp when we walk in, throwing shadows across the hardwood floor. A computer desk and tall wooden bookcase stand against one wall. A heavy looking dresser occupies the space beneath the window straight ahead, and a queen sized bed with rumpled sheets is pushed against the corner opposite the desk. A woven tapestry is tacked to the ceiling, conjuring images of an old-world smoking lounge.
Kyle follows my gaze upward and asks, “Do you like my tapestry? I saw it in a magazine and thought it looked good.”
“Yeah, that’s really cool,” I say softly. I’m not sure why I feel compelled to whisper all of a sudden.
“I’ll get us some glasses,” he says as he sets the carton of milk on the desk. He leaves the room to return to the kitchen, and I slowly lower myself onto the mattress. I hardly ever drink alcohol, and I’m pretty much the epitome of a lightweight…that beer at dinner still has me feeling a bit unsteady. My eyes sweep the shelves opposite, taking in the spines of the many battered books lined up there. My head swivels around, taking in the rest of my surroundings, and suddenly it occurs to me there isn’t a television in here.
Kyle comes back with the package of Oreos and two glass tumblers filled with milk. He hands one to me, then opens a cabinet on his desk containing his DVD collection. “What do you feel like watching?” he asks.
“Mmm…I feel like watching something I’ve never seen before,” I tell him. “But, Kyle…you don’t have a television.”
“Nah, I don’t,” he agrees, his eyes still scanning the cabinet in front of him. “We’ll have to watch it on my computer if that’s okay.”
“Oh. Yeah, fine,” I reply absently. My mind is flooding with realization in tiny increments – I’m now aware of the fact there isn’t any place to sit in here except on the bed.
Kyle pulls out a disc and holds it up. “Have you seen Argo?” he asks.
“Never. What’s it about?”
“It’s based on a true story. It’s about a CIA operative who goes into Iran to extract some fugitive American diplomats by pretending to shoot a science fiction movie.”
“Sounds interesting.”
“Are you sure?” he asks. “We can watch something else.”
“Let’s watch it,” I say.
He pops open the DVD drive on his laptop and inserts the disc, then crawls onto the bed and scoots all the way back to the wall, so his legs are spread out in front of him crossways on the mattress. He pats the space beside him, and I warily climb toward him, twisting to plant myself next to him as the opening credits begin on the movie.
Kyle scoots incrementally closer and centers the laptop between us, setting it across both our laps. He takes a handful of cookies from the package, then hands it to me. “You can set it over there by you,” he says as he dunks one in his cup of milk. He takes a bite and, licking his fingers, says, “Shit, you’re right, these needed milk. No question.”
I smile as I settle in beside him. “Told you so.”
Kyle – Saturday, 9:45 PM
My neck is beginning to hurt from the physical
restraint required to keep myself from sinking down closer to Tawny. I can feel the warmth radiating off her skin, and the clean, shampoo scent of her hair is intoxicating. For the most part she seems to be enthralled by the movie, but occasionally she cuts her eyes up at me in this way that’s completely adorable, and I can’t help smiling back down at her.
For the past several minutes my heart has been pounding in my chest as I gather the courage to make my next move. I know I want to touch her, and that’s not something that would ordinarily present a problem for me. I just do it – and it’s never been an issue. I’m at a complete loss as to why it should be any different with Tawny. Finally I take a deep breath and say, “Do you mind if I stretch my arm out behind you? It’s cramping a little bit.” Well, it’s the truth.
“Okay,” she replies. She leans forward a little, allowing me to slip my arm behind her before settling back against the wall. With my arm wrapped around her waist I feel slightly more emboldened, and I grab her hip and scoot her closer to me so our legs are touching. She looks at me in surprise, but there’s excitement there, too. As much as the rational part of my brain may be screaming at me to cool it, the rest of my body is urging me onward – especially after feeling her pressed against me, my fingers playing against her hip bone. I glance surreptitiously at her face and notice her eyes darting across the screen as if she’s trying desperately to concentrate. My gaze falls to her hair, and I have to fight back the impulse to bury my face in it.
Her top is bunched up a little at the hem, baring a slice of skin above the waistband of her shorts. I push my fingers up just a couple of inches to stroke small circles over the skin at her waist, my body on high alert for any signs she might be uncomfortable. My confidence level increases when she folds into me a bit more and I notice her breathing becoming fractionally shallower.
What seems an interminable amount of time later, Tawny turns her head and angles her face up toward me, her lips parted just slightly. My eyes lock onto hers, and I freeze, afraid if I move at all she’ll realize what’s going on and flee. When it appears after a moment that isn’t going to happen, I relax my grip and look down at her lips, which are glistening from her having just licked them.
I glance back up to her eyes, attempting to channel my question telepathically through the intensity of my gaze. Then, astoundingly, Tawny does the rest of the work for me, leaning up to press her lips against mine. It takes me a couple of seconds to get over my initial shock and regain my ability to reciprocate. I move my mouth against hers, savoring the fullness of her lips.
When I suck her bottom lip between my teeth, Tawny lets out the tiniest of whimpers, and a shockwave of desire ripples straight up my spine. I press in deeper against her, shifting so the computer slides off our laps. I dig my fingers gently into her waist and bring my right hand up to cup the side of her neck. Now I’m in my element – no more misgivings or thoughts of what I might do wrong. I roll over on my side, adjusting myself slightly so my erection isn’t so obvious.
Tawny’s hands twine in my hair as I move my hand to wrap it around the back of her knee and hitch her leg up over my hip. When I pull back to adjust our positioning she’s panting, and she thrusts her pelvis up against me. I moan the second she comes in contact with the swollen length of me – now there’s no way she isn’t completely aware of my hard-on. Fuuuck.
She wraps her hands around behind me and holds onto my lower back as I drop my lips to kiss her neck. My hands rove over her wrinkled clothing, yearning to feel more of her. I won’t go there, though – that will be up to her. I let Tawny serve as our guide, setting the pace. I’m both disappointed and relieved when she begins to let up and our kisses become less fevered – disappointed because my cock would’ve been more than happy to keep going and fuck her right here, right now; relieved because it’s totally clear to the portion of my brain still capable of reason this would not be a good idea.
Tawny pulls back just as the credits begin to roll on the movie. Her face is flushed, and her hair is spread out around her in tangled waves. She’s propped up on one elbow, her chest rising and falling as she looks anywhere but directly at me.
Desperate to make her understand the mixture of excitement, desire and affection I’m currently experiencing, I take her chin in my hand and turn her head to face me. Her blue eyes are clouded with uncertainty when she finally looks at me, but slowly they clear and her shoulders relax as she discerns the complete lack of regret in my own gaze.
The movie ends and the display on my laptop shuts off. We sit still in the darkness for a few minutes, my hand still resting on the slight curve of Tawny’s hip. I listen as her breathing evens out, wondering what I’ll do if she falls asleep in my bed. What I should do and what I more than likely would do seem to be two different things.
I’m stirred from my contemplation, however, when Tawny shifts and says softly, “I should get back.”
Tawny – Saturday, 11:00 PM
Kyle left his Jeep idling in the road on the side of Argenta Hall while he walked me up to the front doors. I thanked him for dinner, and he thanked me for coming over. I was shivering, though in my head it felt more like convulsing, my nerves thrumming with anticipation and the uncertainty of whether he would try to kiss me again. When he did, I’m sure he was able to feel the stiffness in my lips, even as I worked to loosen up and kiss him back. My body has never longed for anything more.
I ride the elevator up to the sixth floor and quietly let myself in, the searing sensation of Kyle’s lips still lingering on mine. Beatrix is in her bed asleep, but Harumi’s loft is empty – I recall her saying something about going to a party tonight.
Slowly I undress myself, taking pains to keep quiet as I discard my shorts and top in the hamper and step into my standard nighttime apparel of boxer shorts and t-shirt. When I turn around and see Kyle’s Redskins cap laying in the center of my bed I silently curse myself for having failed to return it to him – I had laid it there specifically so I wouldn’t forget.
I lie down on my back, still too warm from our heated make out session to climb under the covers. I hold my phone above me and tap out a quick text message to Rhiannon letting her know I had a good time and I’d call her tomorrow. Then I send a text to Kyle:
I’m an idiot. I keep forgetting to give your hat back to you.
A minute later he responds:
My hat?
Your Redskins cap. You left it in my car that night after Jared’s party.
Oh wow, that’s my favorite hat. I thought I’d lost it.
Don’t worry it’s safe. Remind me next time I see you.
OK. Thanks Tawny.
A moment later my phone lights up with another message from him.
I had a really good time tonight. Let’s do it again sometime.
I hold my breath and cover my eyes with my elbow, determined to ward off the blush that’s threatening to creep into my cheeks, even though no one can see me.
Me too. Sounds good.
I roll over and plug my phone into the charger, then try to get some sleep.
Kyle – Sunday, 1:45 AM
My mind is racing – doesn’t look like I’ll be getting to sleep any time soon. I can’t stop replaying earlier events in my head, especially lying here in a bed that still smells like Tawny’s shampoo.
She didn’t seem nearly as inexperienced as I expected her to be – I don’t remember her dating anyone in high school. I can’t be sure, but if I had to guess I’d say she’d done this stuff before… I wonder with whom?
Chapter 7 – Meaningless
Friday & Saturday, August 26 & 27
Kyle – Friday, 9:00 PM
I prop my chin in my hand and drum my fingers against my desk as I study the photo on my computer monitor. The first week of classes was a lot more demanding than I had been expecting, so I’m only just now getting around to editing the shots I took at the freshman mixer last week. I flick back through the thumbnails at the bottom of the screen while a paper c
ontainer of Chinese takeout sits on my desk and grows cold.
I slow down when I reach the series of pictures I took of Tawny, and my pulse quickens. I haven’t seen her since she came over last Saturday. We’ve texted back and forth a few times, but I’ve purposely kept my distance, not trusting myself to be around her again just yet.
I continue scrolling and pause on my favorite capture. Tawny’s face is turned to the side, and her even white teeth are exposed in a grin directed at one of her roommates. The golden pink light from the evening sun breaks against her bare shoulders and catches her eyes in a way that makes them seem to sparkle. My dick jerks to life in my jeans as I stare at her likeness and feel the rush of memories from last weekend come crashing back to me for the hundredth time this week.
I concentrate on clearing my head, focusing on the light and color in the photo rather than the subject matter. I slide some bars within my computer program to adjust the tone and contrast, then experiment with converting it to black and white. The monochromatic version makes Tawny’s eyes pop, but it doesn’t do justice to the rich color of her hair.
Frustrated, I shove back from my desk and stand up, pressing my fingertips against the inside corners of my eyes while I attempt to get a grip. Mentally I calculate when the last time was I had sex – three weeks ago? Four? Yeah, that has to be it.
I gather a change of clothes and head to the hall bathroom to shower. I turn the water as hot as it will go, undressing as the room fills with steam. Once I’m naked I climb into the tub and turn the jet of water on my body. I lather a bar of soap between my hands and scrub at my chest and shoulders, then work my way south. When my soapy hand finds the shaft of my cock, I begin to stroke it without really realizing what I’m doing. I use my other hand to lean against the tiled wall as I massage from base to tip, my mind flooding with images of Tawny. I envision what she would look like naked – her full tits, her flat stomach, the round cheeks of her ass. I picture her straddling me as I sink into her…
Forever With You (Silver State Series) Page 5
