Changing Lanes

by Vining, Season

  He lays his arm along the back of the bench. I move in closer to his side. “Hey, there’s a silver lining. You’re learning and experiencing new things. In my opinion, that’s the best part of life.” We both sit and watch the fire dance in the light breeze. Tiny flecks of wood float up into the sky like fireflies before burning out and disappearing.

  Suddenly, he starts chuckling. “I’m sorry. I just can’t stop picturing you tied up in that purple dress the other night. You poor thing.” His hand wraps around my shoulder and I exhale at the contact. “Your skin is freezing, Stella.”

  I lean away as Lane shrugs out of his leather jacket. He lays it over my shoulders and I am engulfed in soft leather filled with his body heat. It smells like Lane, which is a clean, soapy scent. I inhale deeply and hold the air in my lungs memorizing the fragrance and the way it tastes on my tongue.

  “Won’t you be cold?” I ask, after exhaling.

  “Nah. I’m used to it. That’s how it is when you grow up here. I’m sure if I went down south, I’d suffer.”

  I try to form a response, but my brain keeps circling around the words “if I went down south” and it is not referencing a geographical location. Clearing my throat, I try to shift my mind out of the gutter and focus on the man whose arm is, once again, draped over my shoulders. Marley’s voice screams in my head to use my charm and flirt, but I’m not sure if I remember how. Figuring I can’t be embarrassed any more than I already have been, I just go for it.

  “I don’t know,” I say. “I bet you’d like it down south. Takes a real man to know his way around, but once he does, I’d be inclined to hold onto him.”

  Lane cocks his head and gives me a sinister grin. “I gotta say, I’m impressed at your innuendo game. Got anymore where that came from?”

  “Eh. I figure I ought to space them out. Don’t want to reveal all my talents up front. Gotta make you work for them.”

  “Work for them, huh? Well, there’s a time clock I’d like to punch.” We both laugh and he pulls me in tighter to his side. “Okay, that was lame. It totally didn’t work.” We’re so close I can feel his ribs expand with each breath and the rough denim of his jeans against my fishnet-laced thigh.

  I nod. “You’re right. But don’t worry. Maybe you can learn from the master.”

  He turns his face toward me now, merely inches apart. His eyes drop to my mouth and my tongue slides over red painted lips. The fire crackles beside us, people chatter all around, but all I see is Lane and his penetrating blue eyes holding me in place.

  “Holy fuck!” Marley says, jumping between our bench and the fire. Her shadow casts darkness over us, and we both sit back with a sigh. “I just met the most pretentious, stick-up-his-ass, buttoned-up, know-it-all. Stella, you’ve got to come meet him. My mere presence is enough to unravel this man. It’s so much fun to watch him squirm!”

  Her gaze bounces between us and realization dawns. “Aww, damn. Am I that clueless arse who shows up at the worst possible moment?”

  “The worst,” I say, leveling her with an icy glare.

  “Sorry, but this is just too good. It’s entertainment at its finest. Oh, and there’s a little vein that bulges in his temple when I bring up my ‘Harry Potter & Draco were lovers’ theory.”

  “That must be Joshua,” Lane says.

  “Yes!” Marley shouts. “Joshua. Even his name is pompous. I tried to call him Josh and his eye twitched.”

  Lane chuckles. “That’s him alright. Are you torturing my guests for amusement?” he asks.

  “Just one,” Marley says, batting her eyes. She folds her hands together and twists one foot inward, looking up through her lashes. “I promise I won’t leave any permanent damage. Stella, come see.”

  I don’t move from my spot, too cozy and warm, but all the wine in my bladder is screaming at me. “I need to use the restroom anyway,” I say. I stand and immediately miss the feeling of being tucked into his side. I start to remove Lane’s jacket, but he stands and wraps his hands over mine, keeping it on my shoulders.

  “Keep it,” he says. “It’s only going to get colder.” He gives me a smile that warms me so much I might not even need the jacket. “The bathroom is the first door on the left down the hall. I guess I better do some mingling.”

  Marley drags me away. I only stumble once, my heel catching on one of the steps. Luckily, she is there to keep me from going down. “Go pee and then come find me,” she says before motioning to the far corner of the room.

  I make my way down the hall and try the door. It’s locked. I lean against the wall and squeeze my thighs together. After a few minutes, I feel like I’m going to burst. Rocking side to side, I try to focus on anything else, but all I can hear is Brea shouting “waterfalls, pouring rain, sprinklers, swimming pools” in my head. How that girl loved to torture me. Another minute passes and I can’t take it anymore. There’s got to be another bathroom somewhere.

  Back in the main room I stop the first person I see and ask. They direct me upstairs. I round the banister and climb those steps as fast as my feet can move. I try every door. The first looks like an extra bedroom, the second is locked, the third is a bathroom. Throwing myself inside, I make it just in time.

  When I’m finished, I wash my hands and dry them on the softest green towels I’ve ever felt. Ducking my face inside the toasty leather of Lane’s jacket, I inhale deeply. I close my eyes and revel in the smoky fire scent mixed with hints of Lane. Blue eyes flash through my mind and there’s something so honest and not entirely wholesome about the way he looks at me.

  I check my makeup to make sure everything is still in place. The last time I wore red lipstick it kept wearing off and I’d end up with a ring around my bare lips. Tonight I don’t have that problem. I’ll have to check with Marley on the brand. I give a smile at my unrecognizable reflection and wonder what my ex-husband would say if he saw me like this. He’d probably call me a slut or some other derogatory name, but that’s not what I feel like.

  I feel empowered, beautiful, sexy and needing a release. I don’t want to overthink this thing with Lane. It’s obvious we both want each other, and if it’s purely physical, then I think I can handle that. Just the thought of being intimate with him sends a buzzing sensation into my gut. My inexperience rears its doubtful head and I wonder if maybe Lane would be disappointed.

  Taking a deep breath, I release those feelings and grab on to what I know for sure. He wants me. I want him. And so what if a fling with your neighbor is the worst idea since the Shake Weight, the worst that could happen is things don’t work out and there’s just awkward waving across the yards for the rest of our lives.

  I adjust my boobs in the push-up bra and give them a little shake before exiting the bathroom. I head left, and walk a few steps before realizing I came from the other direction. When I turn around, Lane is there.

  “Shit!” I yell, slapping a hand over my racing heart. “You scared me. Were you trying to be a shadowy figure just lurking in the dark waiting for his next victim? Because you are at some Michael Myers level shit right here.”

  He laughs and shakes his head. “Well, it is a Halloween party. But I didn’t mean to. You were gone a while, so I thought I’d come looking for you.” Lane stalks forward now until he’s got my back pressed against a door. He leans in, one hand resting next to my head. “Have I told you how amazing you look tonight?”

  “Yes.” My answer is a light breath between us, barely a sound.

  His other hand wraps around my waist and he presses his body against mine. I can feel every inch of his hard, runner’s body pushing against my soft, wine-drinking body. He hesitates and I wonder what is keeping him from closing the gap between us. And then I remember, he needs an invitation.

  I wrap my hand around the back of his head, scraping my nails through the short hair at the nape of his neck. Pulling him down to meet me, our lips finally connect and it is everything I imagined. This kiss is powerful, but soft, each of us taking the time to learn each o
ther. He swallows every sigh and whimper that escapes, feeding off my desperate need for this—for him.

  Lane's hand comes up and holds the side of my neck so gently, his thumb lined along my jaw, sweeping up over my cheek. The energy between us builds until it binds us together into a single mess of roaming hands and body friction. My lungs burn from lack of oxygen and my head swims, but I refuse to pull away. His tongue slides over my bottom lip and I finally exhale.

  Without thought, my hips shift forward, seeking him out. Lane returns the gesture, pressing me harder against the door while one hand slides down, wraps around my thigh and hitches it up around his hip. The cheap skirt lets out an awful creaking sound and I just wait for it to rip in half. Luckily, it holds out. Between panting breaths, I let out a wanton moan as he leans into me while placing kisses along my neck.

  “God, Stella. Who knew you would taste so sweet? I don’t want to stop,” he whispers, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear.

  His rock hard erection presses into my stomach and ignites something long dormant. An electric kind of trembling fills my body, desire shooting across my skin like sparks. I don’t remember wanting anything—anyone—more than I want him. The feeling blooms and grows, taking over every cell, every thought, until I feel as though I’m drowning in Lane Holder.

  “But we probably should stop,” I say, trying to catch my breath. “I mean, this is your party.”

  Lane groans, releases my leg and drops his forehead to rest on my shoulder. “Ah, the voice of reason rears its ugly head.”

  “I’m barely hanging on to any self-control here. We should get back downstairs.” Lane lifts his head and pushes away from me. “You’ve got lipstick on your mouth,” I point out.

  He lifts the bottom of his white t-shirt and wipes his face clean, revealing a set of abs I’ve only imagined while pleasuring myself. I blush and look away.

  “Yours is smudged just below...” Lane says, swiping beneath my bottom lip with his index finger and wiping it on his shirt to join the other red splotches.

  “How is it now?” I ask, looking up into his intense gaze. My heart thunders with the look he’s giving me.

  “Perfect. You’re gorgeous.” My smile grows. “Can I take you out sometime?”

  “Like on a date?” I ask.

  “Yes, Stella. Like on a date.”

  I blow out a breath as my fidgeting hands smooth down my hair and adjust the red bandana. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I’m ready for dating. And the age difference...”

  Lane’s eyebrows fall heavy over thick lashes. His lips mold into a pout, but he nods. “Age is just a number. Were you thinking about that number a few minutes ago when I had you pinned against the door?” I shake my head at his smirking face. “But if you’re not ready, I get that. Just means I’ll have to convince you to take a chance.”

  “On what?”

  “On me,” Lane says, placing a hand over his heart.

  “Oh, good Lord, you’re the cutest thing.” Dread sinks inside my body, like I swallowed a boulder. Am I making a mistake? Because walking away from him feels like a mistake. My feet are lead as I drag myself toward the stairs. Stupid boots.

  “I’ve got a cute dog too, if that gets me more points.”

  “It would be so stupid to fall for you,” I whisper with my back to him. I turn my head just enough to see him leaning against the wall. “I’ve got to go find Marley. Thanks for the jacket.” I remove his jacket and lay it on the top of the banister. He crosses his arms now—bulging stacked muscles alternating blank skin and colorful canvas. I worry that I’ve offended him. “Are you coming?”

  He shakes his head ever so slightly. “I’m going to wait a few minutes. Try to think of my grandma naked or something,” he says waving a hand over the prominent bulge in his jeans.

  I turn to go and spot Marley at the bottom of the stairs, pretending not to eavesdrop. She gives me a big smile and waves for me to follow her.

  I start down the stairs. “I’m coming,” I tell her. “Talk to me, Goose!”

  9

  THE PHONE PRESSED between my shoulder and ear is beginning to make my neck ache. Brea woke me up this morning with a phone call that started in tears. I’ve finally calmed her down and decided to start breakfast since this call could last all day. I grab the butter and eggs from the refrigerator while Marley loads a pod in the Keurig.

  “You want?” she asks, while I listen to Brea complain about her husband’s lack of sympathy for a very emotional pregnant woman. I nod.

  “You’ve just gotta tell him how you’re feeling, Brea. He’s not a mind reader and your hormones are making you crazy right now. Cut him some slack. You know he’s a good guy. I know he’s a good guy.”

  “I know,” Brea says with a sigh. “But sometimes he’s just a fart blossom.” After a couple seconds, we both break into giggles. “I’m sorry, I wanted to hear all about last night.”

  “It’s okay,” I tell her. “I’ll call you back this evening to tell you about the party. I’ve got company and we’re starved.”

  We end the call with our standard ‘love yous’ and promise to chat later. I place my phone on the counter and stretch my neck back and forth.

  “Speaking of the party,” Marley says, grabbing her full coffee cup and taking a cautious sip. “You had quite a good time with Lane. I had a good time torturing Joshua. I’m going to call this one a win.”

  “That poor man.”

  “Hey, he could have walked away at any time. He just let me push his buttons all night.” She sips more coffee and leans against the counter. “Did you see his nose flare when I said the American moon landing was fake?” Marley chuckles. “I’ve never met such a hot guy that is so uptight. It was too easy to mess with him. And those arms? He definitely works out.”

  “I’m telling you, Joshua is exactly like a character named Joshua in an Alaina Taylor series. He’s even a doctor, Marley. Just like real life Joshua,” I say, as I stand at the stove, cooking us eggs for breakfast. “Do you think she’s using real people in town for inspiration? That would be crazy.”

  Marley grabs the toast as soon as it pops up and shoves a bite into her mouth. “That would be awesome. What do you think I’ve got to do to get into one of these books?”

  I flip the eggs and shake the frying pan a bit to make sure they’re not stuck. “She’s such a recluse, I imagine you probably would have had to live here your whole life. Like, she knows who she knows and that’s it, right? I feel like I need to go back and reread them all now.”

  “If it is based on him, I would assume that it is an extremely loose interpretation of Joshua. I don’t think the best word wizard in the world could spin that man to be a romantic lead,” Marley says, taking a seat at the table. I slide a fried egg onto her plate and one onto mine. “I miss a proper breakfast.”

  Taking a seat across from her, I shake my head. “If you’re talking about beans for breakfast, that’s gross.”

  “To each their own, love. You don’t hear me complaining about what you people call bacon, do you?” she asks, holding up a piece of turkey bacon. “This is all floppy and weird.”

  “To be fair, real bacon is crispy and delicious. But this stuff is only 20 calories a slice, so we sacrifice.”

  She takes a bite and chews while holding my gaze. “I don’t like sacrifice. It’s weird. And floppy.”

  “You said that.”

  “Speaking of floppy. Did you get a look at Lane’s...bacon?” she asks with a grin, holding up a slice that promptly folds over.

  “No, but I felt it and I gotta say it made me a little nervous.”

  Her eyes go wide. “Oh, god. It’s not fair. He’s good looking, seems like a decent guy, and has a huge cock? Some people have all the luck.”

  I finish off my toast and wipe my mouth with a napkin. “Do you have penis envy?”

  “No,” she says, crossing her arms. “I have neighbor envy. Mine’s just a cranky old lady who stares at me from her kitc
hen window along with her bird.”

  I sit up taller, eyes wide. “Her bird? Like a real bird?”

  Marley waves her hand around. “Yes. You know, one of those white fluffy things that have feathers that go up like this?” She puts her palm against her forehead and holds her fingers straight up.

  “Oh, yeah. That clears it up.”

  “Anyway, the bird lady is like a creepy old witch, just watching me all the time with her disapproving frown. Never leaves the house unless it’s Sunday. I assume to go to witch church or something. I’m just waiting for her to offer me a poisoned apple. But she does have these gorgeous flowers that grow around her house in all different colors. They look like roses, but fluffier. My favorites are the white ones with bright pink edges. And she has a huge greenhouse that takes up most of her backyard. Probably all her herbs and roots to brew potions.”

  Swallowing down the last of my orange juice, I stare at Marley. “You are so strange.”

  “I know, right?” She grins and throws the last bite of toast into her mouth. “I still can’t believe you didn’t bang your neighbor last night. He was down. I could tell he was totally down to hit that. And you just said no?”

  “He kissed me and then asked me out, Marley. Was I supposed to provide a counter offer of no date, only hot, dirty sex?”

  “I don’t see why not. You’re never going to get what you want unless you ask for it. If you’re not interested in dating a much younger, super-hot, intelligent, sweet man, then that’s your ignorant ass business. But I’d at least let him hit it and quit it.”

  I pick up both of our plates and drop them in the sink. “That’s the problem. I don’t know what I want. I’ve been through a lot in the past year. I don’t want to put all that baggage on him.” I cross my arms and stare out of my window. Lane’s porch still holds a few Halloween decorations, but no Lane.

  “Listen to yourself,” Marley says. She hops up from her seat and grabs my shoulders, giving them a little shake. “Everyone has a past. This man is clearly interested. So, stop pretending that this is about being self-sacrificing and all about him when clearly you’re just scared.”