by BK Rivers
“I don’t think you’re being selfish,” she says calmly. “I just want you to really think about how much time you’re spending with Jordan and what this could mean for Micah. He needs to know, Reggie. They both deserve to know.”
When I’ve composed myself enough to speak again, I pull my friend in for a real hug and sniff the ugly cry away. Maybe this weekend I can use the time with Jordan to tell him about Micah. Stacey’s right; the boys in my life need to know about each other.
“So are you going to tell me where you’re sneaking off to this weekend?” I ask as Stacey pulls me to my feet. Her cheeks flush, and I know. It’s a boy; it has to be.
“Who is he? Do I know him?” In all the years we’ve lived together, Stacey’s been respectful to the point of living like a nun when at home. She’s never brought a guy over because she didn’t want to confuse Micah—all of her sexcapades took place somewhere else. And I love her for it. But she’s never gone AWOL for a weekend. An overnighter here and there, sure, but the whole weekend? This guy must be something.
“No, you don’t know him, but he’s great. His name is Ike, and he’s an MMA fighter.”
Wait, what? “He’s a what? A fighter? Isn’t that dangerous?”
“He’s fighting this weekend in Vegas, and I’m going with him.”
My beautiful friend has stars in her eyes, and I suddenly want to meet this guy to make sure he’s good enough for her. What if he has a temper and takes it out on my best friend?
“How did you meet him?” What I really mean to ask is when did she have time to meet him? She’s always picking up the slack from me when I’m working.
Stacey laughs and bats her eyes. “I do have a life outside of Reggie’s world, you know.”
“I know, but a fighter? Couldn’t you have met a boring accountant? At least someone less—”
“Less what?” Her hands are folded across her chest, and her lips twist into a scowl. I’ve struck a nerve.
“Less violent. What if he hits you? He fights people for a living, Stacey. Hitting someone because they’re angry isn’t uncommon for people like him.”
“And you’re basing this on what, experience?” She tosses her suitcase back on her bed and throws open the top flap. “Because last I checked, you haven’t dated anyone seriously since Jordan, and now that you’re riding that train again I think you should just butt out of my love life.”
My jaw falls open, and I’m completely at a loss for words. What just happened? I stand in the middle of the room as she continues to pack, tossing in bits of clothing here and there, obviously not caring how it goes in the suitcase. She steps around me each time she needs to grab something from her dresser, but remains silent. I have no idea how to fix this rift growing between us.
“Mommy?” I turn to see Micah wiping his tired eyes with the backs of his fists. His brown hair is sticking up in odd places, and his cheeks are flushed from sleep. I rush over to him, swipe my hand over his forehead to check for a fever, but there is none.
“What’s wrong, buddy?” I ask as I wrap my arms around him in a hug. Mommy needs a hug right now, really badly. He clings to me, wraps his legs around my waist, and lets me carry him back to bed. One day, probably sooner than I’ll like, this little boy is going to be too heavy for me to lift, and it’s going to make me so stinking sad.
“Are you okay?” I ask, tucking him into bed.
He nods sleepily and yawns. “Why were you and Auntie Stacey fighting?” I wince. I hadn’t realized we were so loud.
“It’s nothing, buddy. Go back to sleep, and I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” I place a kiss on his forehead and watch him turn to his side and easily fall back asleep. I sit with him for a while longer and remember the day I first held him in my arms. He was a tiny little thing, just under seven pounds. I was so scared I was going to break him, and the nights where he cried and cried just about killed me. Thank goodness for Stacey, who’s been with me every step of the way and has always had my back. She was there when my parents wanted nothing to do with me after I told them I was pregnant. And she held my hand in the delivery room and changed his diapers when I was too exhausted to do it.
I have to apologize to her before something happens and our friendship is ruined.
I kiss Micah’s forehead once again, leave his room, and step across the hall to Stacey’s. I don’t knock this time. Instead, I let myself in and walk right over to her and wrap her in a hug.
“I’m sorry I’ve been a jerk lately,” I say when I move away. We both laugh, hug again, and make our apologies. When all the air is cleared, I help her finish packing. We sit up eating Tonight Dough from Ben & Jerry’s and gush about the men in our lives just like high school.
***
Stacey left early this morning, and my parents are set to arrive any minute. I’ve been running around like crazy today, and I hope the house is clean enough for them. Mom is really good at pointing out the dust on the picture frames or an un-fluffed pillow, so the less ammunition the better. And just like that, there’s a knock on the door, and I look like I’ve been cleaning all day. Perfect.
“Mom! Dad!” I gush when I open the door. Mom glances around the room with a practiced smile and hands me her purse and jacket. Dad makes his way back to Micah, who’s running down the hall with his arms outstretched, awaiting the bear hug he’ll get.
“There’s my boy,” Mom says with a real smile. She joins Dad in a group hug, and I’m left hanging her coat and purse on the hooks by the door, watching them feed my son with attention. Don’t get me wrong, I’m very grateful they love him; I just miss the love they once showed me. I suppose it was lost when I got pregnant and wasn’t married.
We eat a simple dinner of tacos and then sit and play a game with Micah until his bedtime. Dad puts him to bed and joins me and Mom on the couch. Why do I feel like I’m about to be lectured again? This is all too familiar, and so I stand up, reach for the remote, and quickly turn on the TV, choosing a show I know they both enjoy. We sit in heavenly silence while the show is on and, thankfully, I receive a text from Jordan to distract me.
Jordan: You ready for the weekend?
Me: Can it start right now?
Jordan: Sure! Come on over.
I could go to his place tonight, but it would give my parents yet another thing to dislike about me and Jordan dating again.
Me: I can’t. Don’t want to risk the wrath of Mom.
Jordan: That’s some scary shit right there!
Jordan: Call me later?
Me: Okay.
My parents are already yawning and it’s only nine. They stand, and Dad stretches while Mom yawns again.
“Good night, Regina,” Mom says with yet another practiced smile. I wonder if she’s always smiled like that and I never noticed it growing up. Maybe that’s the only smile she has. No, that’s wrong. The one she gives Micah is wide and welcoming, and I have faint memories of receiving it when I was younger.
“I’ll see you in the morning.” They make their way to my bedroom and close the door. They’ll hopefully be in there the rest of the night, giving me the lumpy couch all to myself. Not that I couldn’t sneak into Stacey’s bed and sleep in hers, but she didn’t offer and I didn’t ask. I scroll through the TV channels and stop on a movie I’ve been wanting to watch, then call Jordan.
“Hey, Bug.” His low voice makes my skin erupt in goose bumps. “Whatcha doing?”
“I just turned on a movie. Want to watch it with me?”
“Are you inviting me over?” He fakes a gasp, making me laugh.
“No. Turn to channel 264, and we can watch it together. Like a long distance date.”
“Is there any sex in this movie?”
Maybe I should invite him over just so I can throw a pillow at him.
“Just watch it with me. We can stay on the phone during the movie, and it’ll be like we’re in the same room,” I say. I settle into the couch, pull a blanket over my legs, and push the pillows under my head.
Perfect.
“But there won’t be any touching during this movie,” he says with a pout. “You know how much I like to touch you.”
“Shhh. Just watch the movie.” And we do. By the end I’m a blubbering mess when the female lead dies in the arms of her lover. “What kind of movie was that?” I ask, wanting to get Jordan’s opinion about the rotten ending. But he doesn’t answer me. I hold the phone up to my ear and hear faint snoring.
“Jordan?” Still, he doesn’t answer. “Good night, Jordan,” I whisper as I hang up the phone.
Chapter 25
Jordan
“That movie was lame,” I say as Reggie and I pull away from the condo. “And you know it.”
“How would you know? You fell asleep watching it.”
“I did not.” I totally did. I don’t think I made it twenty minutes before I fell asleep.
“You were so sleeping. I heard you snoring.”
“I don’t snore.” Sometimes I do.
“Whatever.” Reggie folds her arms across her chest in a mock-pout, giving me the urge to reach over and poke her ribs. She’s incredibly ticklish there. She jumps when I poke my finger in her side, squeals, and slaps my hand away. She looks beautiful this morning with the sun shining on her hair as we drive north on the I-17 toward Sedona. I’ve reserved a room at a fancy bed and breakfast that backs up to a stream. The room looked perfect on the website, with its log-like walls and river rock fireplace.
I thread my fingers through hers as we drive and marvel at the woman sitting next to me. I love her and it kills me that I let her walk away from me all those years ago. I was a dumb kid and didn’t know I could’ve fought to keep her. But I have her now, and I don’t plan on giving her up ever again.
Whoa.
That’s a revelation if I ever had one. I give her hand a quick squeeze and concentrate on the drive ahead.
We pull into the B and B just after eleven, check in with the nice couple who owns the property, and go to our cabin. The outside is a mix of rustic logs and stone surrounded by leafy shrubs. I unlock the door, show Reggie through the threshold, and await her response. Her eyes go wide as she scans the room, and even I have to admit it’s really nice. The pictures don’t do the cabin justice. We enter a cozy living room where the windows overlook the trees and stream in the back. The stone fireplace is massive, taking up almost an entire wall.
Reggie turns to me, wraps her arms around my neck, and squeals. My heart jumps at her approval and I can’t hold back the smile taking over my face. Jordan Capshaw nailed this one!
“Let’s go find the bedroom,” Reggie says, smiling wide and dragging me through the living room. We pass the kitchen with its dark granite counters and black appliances, but turn around when we find the laundry room. She drags me back through the kitchen and living room to another set of doors.
“Here we are,” she says with a sultry smile. She backs into the room, tugging me by the top of my jeans. Her fingers skim over my stomach. My muscles tighten and, as much as I’d love to get naked with her right here, we have a schedule to stick to. I back away from her touch, and she pushes her lips into a cute little pout.
“We need to grab our swimsuits and head up to the main house for our massages,” I say, hoping to pacify my girl. We’ll be using the heated pool after the massage. She squeals yet again, only this time she jumps up and down like a hyper puppy trying to snatch a treat.
“You’re the best,” she says, wrapping me in another warm embrace, though she follows this one with a slow kiss. Her lips move across mine, and when her tongue enters my mouth I grasp her waist and pull her close, groaning that I scheduled these massages. I’m not against cancelling and losing the costs of two massages, but my girl deserves to be pampered.
My hands trail down her hips and stop at her round ass, giving those luscious cheeks a firm squeeze.
“All right, Bug, we need to get going.”
Her tongue thrusts into my mouth again before she breaks away. “You sure?”
I back away, scrub my hands over my face, and almost give in. “Come on, let’s go.” I place a quick peck on her cheek, grab my trunks, and try to keep myself under control as Reggie digs through her suitcase and pulls out something that barely resembles a swimsuit.
“Damn, you gonna wear that for me?”
Her cheeks flush as she pulls the suit to her chest and drags me out of the bedroom and up to the main house. Inside, Margot, one of the owners, greets us and shows us to the changing rooms. There are two rooms—one for men, the other for women—and when Margot leaves us, Reggie saunters inside the women’s room. I stand outside, contemplating being a good little boy, but the devil on my shoulder wins and I glance around to see if anyone’s nearby before heading into the room with Reggie. I plan on driving her crazy while we’re here, and I might as well get started now.
There are two rows of lockers, and I find her at the back row with her jeans already off, puddled around her ankles. She’s wearing a lacy black thong and the pink and cream plaid button-down shirt she wore up here, and she’s damn beautiful.
“Jordan!” she whisper-screams at me. “You’re not supposed to be in here.” She backs up and sits down on the bench behind her, staring up at me.
“As far as I can tell, we have the place to ourselves. And Margot never specifically said I can’t be in here.” I move right in front of her, push her knees apart with my legs, and fall to my knees. Her thighs alight in goose bumps while I run my hands from her knees to the juncture at her hips.
“What are you doing?” she asks breathlessly.
“Making you want me as much as I want you.” My thumbs move over the front of her thong, and her entire body straightens, pushing her chest front and center, right in my line of sight—too bad her shirt is covering her. Trailing my lips across her neck and to her waiting lips drives me crazy. Her mouth parts and accepts my tongue, but I refuse to rush this. I move with her slowly, teasing and tempting, but when she pushes for more, I pull away. She whimpers when I stand and reach my hands behind my head to shuck off my shirt. Her eyes rake over my chest as her cheeks flush a bright pink. When she reaches to help me out of my jeans, I move out of her reach, teasing her some more.
“Uh-uh,” I tease, popping the button to slowly guide the zipper down. Her eyes follow my fingers and then my jeans as I slide them down my legs. Her lips quirk into a crooked smile and when her hands reach for the top of my boxers, I step back and turn around.
She smacks my butt and yanks the boxers down. “You are such an ass,” she says with a laugh, and then throws me a robe.
“What’s that you say? I have a nice ass?” I shrug on the robe, tie the terry cloth belt around my waist, and turn just in time to catch a glimpse of Reggie’s bare breasts. A lump forms in my throat when I try to think of anything but her naked and under me.
Reggie smirks, dons her robe, and says, “Payback’s a bitch, isn’t it?”
I quickly store our belongings in the lockers before she rushes out the door to the waiting room. I follow, seriously reconsidering this couple’s massage simply because I’ll have to lie across from Reggie and listen to the sounds she makes. Tell me how this is not going to end up with me in a compromising position.
Margot brings us to the massage room and introduces us to our masseuses, Nikki and Amber. Nikki is wearing a black tank top that makes her arms look like a Mack truck; I’m pretty sure she could bench press me.
“This table for you, da?” Ah, Russian. “Lie down on your stomachs and cover with the sheet. We’ll return shortly. Any questions?” Reggie and I shake our heads in unison and hold back our laughter until the two women leave the room.
“What in the heck is she?” Reggie giggles, covering her mouth with the back of her hand.
“I’m guessing she’s a female MMA fighter. Maybe a dude in disguise?” That sets Reggie off, laughter spilling through the gaps of her fingers and warming my chest. I quickly span the room, place my palms on her cheeks, and
press her lips to mine. This girl, even her laugh does it for me. She sighs into my lips, parting hers, giving my tongue access to what it craves. As quickly as I initiate the kiss, I pull away, ignoring Reggie’s whine of protest.
The massages are amazing. Nikki’s hands work the knots from my back and shoulders, making me groan even more than Reggie. After an hour, Nikki and Amber finish our massages and leave us alone in the dim room filled with the scent of lavender and sandalwood. I’m so relaxed I could probably sleep like this and wake up a happy man.
But then I hear the creak of Reggie’s massage table as she works her way off of it. Not gonna lie, I stare like a boy looking out the window hoping to see Santa. Her body is flushed from the massage, she has a ring around her face from the hole in the table, and her smile is one I want to memorize. It’s a broad, no teeth grin that reaches her eyes, giving her a totally relaxed and satisfied look.
“Quit looking at me like you want to devour me,” she teases as she threads her arms through the robe. “You going to get up?”
A laugh leaps from my chest, earning me a look of annoyance. “I’m halfway there,” I say, propping myself up on my elbows. “Why don’t you come on over here and help me up the rest of the way.” Reggie’s cheeks light up as she moves closer, only to smack my shoulder and dash out the door.
Back in the changing room, we pull on our swimsuits and walk hand in hand through the building to the heated pool. Late February in Sedona is still pretty chilly, and as soon as we hit the outdoors Reggie shrieks and runs to the steamy water. She tosses her towel near the edge of the pool and leaps off the deck into the blue water, landing with a splash. Shaking my head, I reach down and pick her towel up off the floor and toss it, along with mine, onto a chair near the edge. I really don’t want to dry off with a nearly frozen towel sitting on the deck in puddles of pool water.
The pool is meant to look like a lagoon, with the plants surrounding the edges and boulders built in to parts of the pool walls. At the far end is a large rock surface with a waterfall you can swim under. My arms arc over my head as I dive into the warm water. The temperature isn’t quite bathwater, but it’s close, and feels incredible on my knot-free muscles. I swim under the surface until I reach Reggie, and then I pop out of the water in front of her. She squeals when I pull her under and press my lips to hers.
