Thursdays (The Wait Book 1)

by Harper Bentley

  I barked out a laugh. God, she was cute.

  Me: I’ve got on boxer briefs right now

  Birdie: Okay. I’d slide my hand inside your boxer briefs and take your cock in my hand and stroke it…

  She was going to hate herself in the morning, I was sure. But I didn’t want this to stop. I really wanted to hear what she had to say.

  Me: I’d be rock hard for you…

  Birdie: I’ll bet you’re big, aren’t you?

  Me: I’ll just say I’ve got more than enough for you ;)

  Birdie: God. That’s hot…you like my hand on you?

  Me: I do…

  Birdie: I’d kiss down your chest…over your abs…

  I liked where this was going. Damn.

  Birdie: Then I’d take your cock in my mouth, all the way to the back of my throat…

  Crisis of conscience. Was I cheating if I let this go on? Fucking hell.

  Birdie: Sucking on it like a lollipop ;)

  Me: Birdie

  Birdie: I’d caress your balls in my hand…then move my mouth down, licking you everywhere then suck them one at a time into my mouth

  Me: Hey

  Birdie: Still pumping your cock with my hand…

  She was obviously on a roll here. I guessed I could justify it as reading an article in Hustler or watching Cinemax After Dark. Yeah. I’d just keep telling myself that.

  Birdie: I’d suck your hard cock back into my mouth, moving up and down…

  Without even thinking, I pulled my boxer briefs down and grabbed my now-hard cock, pumping my hand imagining it was her mouth. What can I say. I was fucking horny.

  Birdie: You’d put your hand in my hair…and I know you’d pull it a little…guide my head…moving me faster or slower…whichever you wanted…

  She was so fucking right.

  Birdie: Your cock would be hitting the back of my throat each time I went down…

  Ah hell.

  Birdie: You’d tell me you were getting close and I’d keep going…sucking harder…faster…

  Jesus fuck. I was right there with her.

  Birdie: You’d tell me you were going to come and I’d pull back for a second…look you in the eye…and whisper, Shoot your hot come down my throat, Beck…

  Fucking fucking hell! At that point I shot my load all over my stomach. Christ!

  Birdie: I’d take you in my mouth and keep going until you finished…then I’d suck you clean…then lick my way back up and smile at you…

  I lay there panting knowing I should’ve stopped her. But holy fuck. What she’d been saying was so hot. And, obviously, I hadn’t had sex in quite some time because it happened so fast, but still, she was that good.

  Birdie: Shit

  As I got back to the bed after cleaning myself up, having stared at myself in the bathroom mirror for a moment wondering what the hell I’d been thinking, I saw my phone light up on the nightstand.

  Me: What’s wrong?

  Birdie: I screwed up, didn’t I?

  Me: No, baby, you didn’t. I had to go to the bathroom…

  Birdie: OMG you took a bathroom break while I was typing…I’m an idiot

  I snorted out a laugh.

  Me: No, honey. You made me come

  Birdie: I’m sorry, Beck…I think I’m screwed up in the head…well, on top of being a bit drunk

  Me: Nothing to be sorry about, honey. You were good…damn good

  Birdie: I’ve gotta go. Night

  Me: Hey

  She didn’t answer. Not then or for the next three days.

  Chapter 23—Birdie

  The next day I had a mild hangover and a humongous guilty conscience.

  I so should’ve stopped texting Beck but I’d thought he’d been enjoying it. And that right there just went to prove how messed up in the head I was.

  God.

  Over the next few days, he’d texted and called but I’d been too mortified to answer.

  He was a married man and I should never have gone there with him.

  So, like the coward I was, I avoided him.

  Thursday, I contemplated missing the grief session. I’d called Jaden, who knew all about the sexting, and she’d told me to go, that I couldn’t avoid Beck forever. So, like a big girl, I pulled ‘em up and went.

  I got there late because a meeting had run long which was actually ideal because if I’d been early, Beck probably would’ve tried talking to me. As it was, after sitting in my chair I felt his hard stare on me the entire time. Which I tried ignoring, but it was tough since he was boring a friggin’ hole in me with those electric blue eyes of his.

  After the session, I thankfully caught Charles and talked with him a little, actually letting him know the reason I was attending the sessions.

  “Aw, Birdie, I’m so sorry you’re going through this. I’m sure your husband appreciates your coming here, though.”

  I smiled and nodded, not telling him anything more about our personal lives and that we weren’t together as I watched Beck leave. Good. Charles and I talked for another five minutes or so, long enough I hoped for Beck to have caught the elevator and gone, then I thanked Charles and left.

  Sticking my head out the door, I had a look around and seeing that the coast was clear, let out a breath. But when I got to the elevator, the men’s bathroom door opened and Beck came out, his now icy blue eyes on mine and he was not happy.

  Shit.

  “The fuck, Birdie?” he bit out when he got to me.

  “Look, I’m sor—” I began before he grabbed me by the arm, pulling me into an unlocked room, which I saw was another conference room like the one we’d just had our meeting in. “What in the world?” I said as he closed the door.

  He bent and got right in my face, the anger on his very apparent which made me pull back a little. “You do not do that shit again, do you understand?” he snarled.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and frowned. “I said I was sorry!”

  “I don’t give a flying fuck what you are! You don’t disappear on me like that, you got it?” he fired back.

  I couldn’t help it. I started laughing.

  “What’s so fuckin’ funny?” he growled.

  I shook my head as my laughter stopped. “I made a fool of myself, Beck.”

  His brow came down and his eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  I spun and walked a few steps away before turning back to him, throwing my arms out to the side. “I sexted you!” I whisper-hissed.

  He shook his head now. “Yeah, and?”

  “You’re married! We’re married! It was wrong!” Putting my face in my hands I mumbled, “God, this is humiliating.”

  I felt more than heard him come near me now and his hands went to my wrists as he pulled my hands away.

  “Yeah, Birdie, and I was right there with you.”

  I looked up at him, still as abashed as ever.

  “You made me fucking come! You don’t think I wanted to say things right back to you?” Now he put his hands on his face and turned from me. “God! This is so fucked up!”

  Well then.

  “I know,” I agreed, as I brushed by him. “That’s why it needs to end.” Just before I reached the door, he grabbed me by the upper arm, spinning me to face him.

  “No.” He held me by the shoulders, once again bending and getting right in my face. “Being without you this week…not knowing what was going on with you. I did a lot of thinking.” He leaned in and brushed his lips to mine. “I’m falling in love with you, Birdie.”

  “What?” I asked on a gasp.

  He let me go and walked away, running a hand through his hair as my hand went to my lips. “Yeah. My wife’s five floors up waiting to get a new heart, and I’m falling for someone else.” He turned to face me, hands on his hips. “That’s why I said this is fucked up.”

  His aqua eyes fixed on my brown ones as we stared at each other.

  God. I knew as soon as he said it, I felt the same. I was entirely falling for him.
I just hadn’t let myself acknowledge my feelings.

  I cleared my throat and whispered, “I’m falling for you too, Beck.”

  “What do we do now?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

  I lifted a shoulder slowly. “I don’t know.”

  I watched as one side of his mouth tipped up a bit. “I say coffee and pie, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” I conceded, giving him a small smile of my own.

  “Why does pie made by someone else taste so much better?” Beck asked before taking a bite of pecan pie as we sat in what I now found myself dubbing as “our place.”

  “Because they do all the work,” I replied with a chuckle before taking my own bite.

  As we sat chatting, I wasn’t quite sure how to feel. On the one hand, I knew I cared deeply about him. On the other, I was terrified of getting hurt.

  He reached over and took my hand in his. “What’s going on in there?” he asked, dipping his head toward me, his eyes searching my face for an answer.

  “I’m scared, Beck,” I admitted.

  He squeezed my hand before letting it go. “I am too, Birdie.”

  Well, glad we got that cleared up.

  “I mean, where do we go from here?” I asked.

  He sat back in his chair. “I don’t know.”

  I looked at his chiseled features, down to his broad shoulders then to the sculpted pecs I could see outlined in the white t-shirt he wore under a blue button-up shirt. How his wife could cheat, I didn’t know. He was a truly beautiful man. Damn.

  “Are you—” I licked my lips. “Are you going to leave Sonya?”

  He sighed as he looked around the place for a moment then back at me. “Eventually.”

  Huh.

  “I can’t leave her right now. Not while she’s still in the hospital.”

  “No. That wouldn’t be right,” I concurred.

  “And I want you to know, I’m not some asshole who’s trading up for a better model or some shit like that. You know what I mean?”

  I did know what he meant. The same thing had occurred to me, that maybe he thought I was getting out of a bad marriage and nabbing him up because he was better than Mason or something.

  “I get it. Neither of us planned this. It’s like it was meant to be, what with our meeting in the stairwell then again at the counseling.”

  He nodded. “Just don’t want you to think I’m some fucking flake who was on the prowl.”

  I shook my head. “No. I never thought that. But I don’t want you to think that about me either,” I revealed.

  “No, baby. I don’t.”

  We finished our pie and coffee in silence.

  He’d walked me into my building, gave me a quick peck on the mouth then left. Thirty minutes later after I was in bed, he called.

  “Hey,” I answered.

  “Hey. I was thinking. When Sonya gets her new heart, I can’t leave her during her recovery either.”

  I’d thought about that already. “I wouldn’t want you to, Beck.”

  God. This had to be the saddest courtship ever.

  “Birdie?”

  “Yes?”

  “This is gonna sound shitty, but I don’t want you to let any other opportunities go while you’re waiting for me.”

  “You’re right.”

  “About?” he questioned.

  “That does sound shitty.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “What’s going on with us? We were having fun being together and now we’re a couple of sad sacks,” I observed.

  He laughed. “We are. When you fall in love, it should be a happy time, yeah?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “This isn’t the ideal situation, is it? We’re dealing with something unknown here. And I, uh, have to admit I feel guilty.”

  “Maybe we should just let it go,” I said, not wanting to do that, but not knowing the answer to our problem.

  “I don’t wanna lose you,” he said quietly.

  I closed my eyes. “Are we being stupid?”

  “Practical.”

  “Hm.”

  “But again, even though I don’t wanna lose you, I don’t want you to put your life on hold waiting for me.”

  “Well, damn, Beck. It sounds like we’re over before we’ve even begun here.”

  I heard him let out a breath. “You know what? Let’s just keep doing what we’ve been doing, okay? And if at any moment you feel you need to call it off, let me know.”

  “Wow. This all sounds so promising,” I answered sarcastically. “Very appealing. Makes me just wanna jump right in.”

  “I know. I’m just being rational, honey.”

  And I loved that about him. He was only looking out for me.

  “Okay. So tell me about baseball,” I suggested.

  “Played since I was five,” he started, the excitement in his voice easy to hear.

  We talked until just before midnight, both of us having told stories of growing up.

  “I love you, Birdie,” he said before hanging up.

  “I love you too, Beck,” was my reply.

  Chapter 24—Beck

  I was officially fucked.

  I was in love with a woman who wasn’t my wife.

  How goddamned flaky did that make me sound.

  Fuck!

  But those couple of days without Birdie responding to my texts had thrown me for a loop. I’d told myself she just needed some space. Then I’d gotten pissed that she hadn’t answered. Then I’d panicked thinking something had happened to her. Then I’d gone back to thinking she just needed some space. And the cycle had kept going. When I’d finally seen her Thursday night, the emotions that’d flooded my mind were almost too much to bear—relief, anger, annoyance. And then I’d told her I loved her.

  Yep. Officially. Fucked.

  Jesus.

  I took off early from work Friday and after going to see Sonya, caught a cab to Valentino Pier and sat on one of the benches, elbows on my knees, hands clasped in front of me, staring out at the harbor. What was supposed to be a time of relaxing turned into a shitstorm of every thought possible blasting through my brain.

  Was I really in love with Birdie?

  Should I have told her?

  Could I leave Sonya when she got better?

  Was I still in love with her?

  When I did leave Sonya, would Birdie even want me?

  The answers were: Yes, I knew I was; probably not; yes, but only after we discussed everything and I knew she’d be okay; no, but I cared about her—she was my wife; and who would want someone so screwed in the goddamned head?

  I leaned back against the bench and looked up at the sky. I guess I must’ve done that for a while because it wasn’t until I heard a little boy say to his mother, “Mommy, what’s that man doing?” that I stopped.

  Then I got my ass up, stopped acting like a pussy and hailed a cab back to my apartment.

  My weekend was filled with work. After leaving the pier, I’d gone back to the office and picked up where I’d left off on a job that, ironically enough, focused on the efficiency and yields of a new drug chemists were developing to help stop tumor growth.

  I’d called Birdie to see how she was, but we hadn’t talked long since she’d gone in to her office to catch up on some things also.

  But let me say, work was exactly what I needed. I was so focused that I forgot to think about everything for a few hours, and it was great.

  On the cab ride to my apartment I got a text.

  Text Message—Fri, Oct 28, 9:54 p.m.

  Birdie: Hey. Just wanted to let you know I need a break for a while. I’m still here if you need me but my brain is on overload

  Me: Totally understand. Talk to you later x

  We didn’t speak all weekend.

  Monday night, I texted her.

  Text Message—Mon, Oct 31, 8:17 p.m.

  Me: You around?

  Birdie: I’m handing out candy to little zombies!

  Me: Shit. The invas
ion is real?

  Birdie: lol it is here!

  Me: Ha Okay, have fun. Call me when you get a chance ;)

  Birdie: Okay! xo

  God. It was so easy with her.

  Just when my pragmatic, logical mind would decide we needed to call shit off, I’d talk to her and things would get right back on track.

  And that’s what I loved about her. She made it all feel so right.

  At nine my phone rang.

  “Hey,” I answered.

  “Hey! Well, I’m assured that my hips won’t be gaining another inch for now,” she replied with a laugh.

  “Handed it all out, huh?”

  “Yes, thank God. I was afraid those Kit Kats, that kept calling my name, would sabotage me.”

  I chuckled. “Woman assaulted by chocolate bars. Details at eleven.”

  She giggled. “Exactly.”

  “You get all your work stuff finished?”

  “Almost. I’ve been assisting in a buy-out, so I’m hoping I’ve covered all the bases.”

  “Gotta make every penny count, huh?”

  “I’m rolling my eyes, you know.”

  See? Easy. Comfortable. Nice.

  “I know you are,” I said with a smile.

  “I need to tell you that Mason has surgery next week. That’s why I was trying to catch up on work.”

  “Jesus. That’s next week? Do you need me to do anything?”

  I heard her sigh. “Just be there for me.”

  “Always, Birdie.”

  Thursday Charles had everyone pair up. Of course, Birdie and I were partners.

  “I want you to tell your partner three things you loved about the person for whom you’re grieving and tell why. When you’re finished, switch. Ready? Go.”

  I’d gotten up and come around the table to sit by Birdie. Then she and I stared at each other not knowing how to proceed, or at least that was what I was thinking. I wasn’t normally the jealous type, but I didn’t really want to hear things she loved about Mason. But as the people around us started talking to each other, I guess the pressure got to her.

  “I’ll go first,” she whispered. Her green eyes meeting mine. “Okay?”

  I nodded waiting to hear what she had to say.

  “One of the things I loved about Mason was that he was funny. He could make me laugh so easily.” I watched as she smiled at a memory and it made my fucking heart clench. “This is gonna sound weird, but there was this one time when he was putting on a pair of these stupid tighty-whities he had from his track days. You know, they kept him, well, tight.” She snorted at the look on my face. “They were so old that when he pulled them on, the waistband ripped. But he just kept pulling them up. And they kept tearing. By that time, I was laughing at him, so he kept going. Oh, my God. It was the funniest thing ever. He ended up pulling that stupid waistband up and around his neck and it looked like he had on a monokini. I was laughing so hard I cried.”