by Penny Wylder
My father looks like I just hit him. Up until I said the words, I don’t think that he believed it. He hoped that he wasn’t seeing what he was seeing, trying to find any possible way to justify it or explain it away. Until I just confirmed it.
I wait for him to say something. Anything. To yell at me. Scream or rage or cry. But he doesn’t. Just stares at me like he has no idea who I am, like he’s never seen me before. What do I do?
“I need you to know that I didn’t do it to hurt you. Bryce was the person that I had always—”
“Get out of the car, Katti.” He cuts me off.
“What?”
He looks straight ahead and puts his hands on the wheel. “I need you to get out of the car now.”
I start to say something else, but he just shakes his head. I get out and the second that the door is shut behind me, the car is in reverse and flying out of the driveway. I don’t know where he’s going or what he’s going to do, but I fucked up.
This is the last thing I wanted, and everything is happening exactly the way I thought it would. God, I need a fucking drink.
My mom is sitting on the couch when I walk in, reading a book. She looks so comfortable and normal, and when she lights up with a smile at the sight of me, it hits me right in the chest. “Hey, sweetie. Did you have a good time? Where’s your father?”
I collapse into tears. I can’t hold it back anymore. I wasn’t doing well before we went to the bowling alley, and now…
“Oh, hey,” she says. “Come here.”
I sit down next to her and let her hug me, just crying into her shirt. It only makes it worse that as comforting as my mother’s hug is, it’s not who I want to be holding me right now. “You’re all right,” she says, trying to soothe me.
“I’m not. I’m really not.”
She doesn’t say anything to that, just lets me cry, and I do. I pour everything out in one long stream, the pain and tears rising up from places inside that I didn’t remember existed. I cry until I feel empty, which is honestly preferable at this point.
“Come on,” my mother says when I’ve settled a little bit. “I think you need some tea.”
“Maybe something stronger.”
Mom shakes her head. “There aren’t any problems that a cup of tea and conversation can’t fix, and you don’t need alcohol to cover up your problems.”
“Not cover them up, just let me not think about them for a little while.”
She gives me a look. “And that’s how you end up in tears like this.” I sit down at the kitchen table while she fills the kettle and turns it on to boil. “Now tell me what is going on.”
“I fucked up, Mom. Badly. I don’t think it’s something that a cup of tea can fix.”
“Katti, you have a great life and people who love you. Whatever it is, I don’t think it can be that bad.”
I laugh, but there’s no actual humor behind it. “It’s beyond bad, Mom. I’m pretty sure that Dad hates me now. I’ll be lucky if he ever speaks to me again or even wants me in his house. So if I have to leave tomorrow, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Katti. Your father doesn’t hate you.” She gets up to turn off the electric kettle and pour the water into mugs.
“I’m not so sure about that.” My voice is soft.
Mom clears her throat. “I’m assuming that this has something to do with you and Bryce?” For the third time this evening I feel like I’m dropping through the floor with shock. She turns around and laughs when she sees my face. “Honestly, I am your mother. You shouldn’t be that surprised that I figured it out.”
I swallow as she hands me a mug of steeping tea. “The graduation party?”
“Well, yes, but I’d figured it out before then. I didn’t think anything would come of it, though. But it seems like it has. I’m going to need you to tell me what actually happened if you want me to help.” I shake my head, but she reaches out and places her hand on mine. “I’m not going to spend the whole story telling you that you’re wrong. I just want to know.”
So I start at the beginning, telling her how long I had wanted him, and that he was the reason I moved away. I tell her how wanting him never went away and how I kept looking for him even when he wasn’t there—though I leave out the bits about British porn stars because honestly, my mother doesn’t need to know that about me.
I leave out the bit about the vibrator too, but I tell her about the app and how we met. I do admit to her that I went in looking for a one-night-stand, because I don’t think there’s another way to tell that story. We didn’t romance each other. It was rough and immediate.
Working my way through our week together, I end up at the baby shower and what Marcy said. And why I walked away. And tonight, when dad caught us. I hate my mother’s sneaky smile when I say that there was nothing amiss when Dad found us—she has a mother’s intuition and definitely knows that we had sex in that alley.
And then the aftermath. To now. “I ruined everything,” I say. “I just wanted to make sure that everyone was okay, and that Dad and Bryce didn’t get hurt. But it happened anyway. I’m so…mortified and embarrassed, and I wish I could go back in time and make none of it happen.”
“Oh, sweetie. Nothing is ruined.”
“Mom, it is.”
She levels an even stare at me. “It’s only ruined if you’re not happy, which clearly you’re not.”
“I can’t be happy!” I exclaim, getting up from my chair and pacing across the kitchen. “Not when Dad is miserable and hurt like this. Not when I took away his best friend.”
Mom lifts an eyebrow, and says, “Based on what you’ve told me, you’ve already been told this. But I’m going to try again, because it’s not sinking in. Your father’s happiness is not your responsibility.”
“But—”
“Hold on,” she says. “I’m not finished. You’ve done this your whole life. You live for other people, and think that them being happy is the same as you being happy. That’s not the case. Bryce is a good man. Of all the people in the world that I know is going to take care of my daughter, he is one of them. So is something really ruined if you do something for yourself? If you let yourself be happy for just you?”
I swear that my brain is pouring out of my ears and onto the floor. “You’re not mad?”
“Why on earth would I be mad at you for falling in love with someone?”
“Because…” I say, floundering. “He’s older. He knew me when I was a kid.”
She snorts. “It’s because of that reason it’s a goddamn miracle that he wants to be with you now. You were a terrible child.”
“Mom!”
She’s smiling though. “Seriously, Katti. If you removed all the obstacles you think are there, would you be with him? Would that make you happy?”
“Yes.” There is no other answer.
“Then take it from me, don’t worry about anything else. Don’t worry about Bryce and your father’s friendship. Don’t worry about appearances. Throw that away and do what is best for you. Your father will come around. The only thing he wants in the world is for you to be happy.” She stands and hugs me. “At least think about it, will you?”
“I will.”
I’m glad I talked to her. Because she’s right. She basically said the exact same thing that Elle did, but because she’s my mom, it got through more. I’m still uneasy, and the idea that I should only think about me is unnatural. But some of my anxiety is gone. The fact that she didn’t even judge me for being with Bryce has given me some hope.
We talk a little longer while we drink our tea—on topics that have nothing to do with love and romance, before I go upstairs to bed. I’m exhausted. Mentally, physically, and emotionally. I’ve been put through the wringer, and it shows. I barely get the sheets pulled back before I’m slipping down into perfect, dreamless sleep.
15
I wake up late.
There was no reason to set an alarm, since the only thing I’m doing today is goin
g to the hospital to see the baby. My parents are late risers too, when they can. It’s only ten, but I expect them to be having breakfast right around now.
Knowing Mom, she might have made pancakes or something. My stomach growls in response to that thought. Yeah, pancakes would be really good right about now. I pull on some soft pants and a t-shirt and make my way downstairs, but I can already tell that it’s too quiet. My mom keeps the radio on when she cooks, and they usually have some sort of casual conversation going on.
But no, the house is completely dead and silent. The kitchen is empty, and it doesn’t even look as if any cooking has been done this morning. Disappointing, but not the end of the world. I’m just confused about where they are. They don’t seem to be here.
I wander into the living room, but there’s no sign of them anywhere. Maybe they had an appointment? I pull aside the curtain on the front windows to look for their car, and that’s when I see them. They’re both out on the front lawn, and they’re talking with Bryce.
They don’t seem to be yelling at him either, which I hope is a good sign.
Bryce looks good this morning, in dark wash jeans and a simple white t-shirt. His hair looks wet, like he’s fresh from a shower, and the sight makes my chest ache. He’s speaking calmly, hands in his pockets, though something about his face looks off. I can’t tell from this distance.
My mom has her hand on my dad’s shoulder, though he doesn’t look particularly murderous. What I wouldn’t give to be invisible right now so I could get close to them and hear exactly what they’re saying. I’ve abandoned peeking out from behind the curtain and just watching. Something I realize when he hugs both my parents and watches them get into their car and drive away.
What the hell?
What is going on?
Bryce looks at the house, and when I realize that he can see me, I duck below the window. Then I blush. I don’t know why I’m hiding. He’s already seen me, and it’s not like he didn’t already know that I was home. My car is fucking sitting in the driveway, and my parents would have told them. But I keep myself crouched down, trying to get a handle on what I’m feeling and what’s going on.
I hear footsteps on the stairs outside the door. Bryce opens the door and comes inside, and I don’t look at him. “Katti,” he says. “What are you doing down there?”
“Hiding,” I say, my words muffled.
“I already saw you in the window.”
“I know.”
He chuckles. “Are you going to join me up here?”
I stand up slowly. “Okay. Want to tell me what’s going on?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you standing in the front yard talking with my parents, and they didn’t attempt to murder you.” Then I notice what I thought I saw was wrong with his face. His jaw has a large bruise on it. “What happened?”
He smiles, an amused look in his eyes. “Your father came by the house last night, and I happened to open the door. He punched me in the face before saying anything. Then he told me to come over here to talk to him this morning. So what’s going on is that I decided last night that I was going to stop hiding—before your dad showed up. It was time.
“I was going to tell both of them how I felt about you, and damn the consequences. Because that’s what was between us, and I wanted everything out in the open, even if they completely rejected my feelings. I was tired of having to pretend.”
“He hit you?”
Bryce smiles. “He did. And it was worth it.”
My stomach is fluttering, and I’m nervous. But I feel hope for the first time in forever, like sunshine breaking through the clouds. “What did you say? What did they say?”
He reaches out for my hand and I let him take it. He pulls me closer, slowly. “I told them that you were special. That you weren’t just a fling or something to satisfy a fantasy. I told them that you had reached in and wrapped yourself around my heart and that you hadn’t let go.
“I told them that we both tried not to do this, but even with all the time and space between us, fate found a way to put us together. And that I’d tried to fight it, and lost. I told them that I love you. And I do, Katti. I love you.”
Tears flood my eyes, and I step into his arms, the pain of everything surfacing, and relief flowing through me as it heals. He leans down to kiss me, and I let him. It’s a soft kiss, gentle and testing and perfect. It’s what our first kiss might have been, if we’d had it years ago. “I love you, too,” I say, even though my voice is shaking.
I kiss him this time, pulling him close to me. I’m just as desperate as I was last night, but it’s a different kind of desperation. I need him. But I need him to know that I love him and that I’m sorry, and that I did fuck up. I should have trusted him. And that I’m thankful he stuck with me anyway.
He pulls away, chuckling. “Don’t you want to know what your parents said to me?”
“You can tell me,” I say. “But it doesn’t matter. My mom and I had a talk last night, too. And she told me to do what makes me happy, damn it all, just like you decided. And I’m going to try, even if it doesn’t come naturally. Because what makes me happy is you.”
“Good,” he says. “I’m so happy to hear that. But they really are fine with it. It’s going to take some adjusting with me and your dad, but he got in his punch. They both gave us their blessing.”
I kiss him again, wrapping my arms around his neck so I’m closer. “I’m glad.”
“Now that that’s out of the way,” he says, lifting me so that my legs wrap around his waist, “you and I have some catching up to do.”
“Did my parents really leave so that we could have sex?”
He laughs, loudly and freely so that it fills the house. “No. They knew that we needed time to talk, and agreed to go out for a few hours so that we would have time.”
“So they know?” I ask.
“They definitely know,” he laughs. “But I don’t think they expected us to make up so quickly.”
He’s carrying me through the house, and I tuck my head into his neck. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I was wrong. I know I was wrong—but I just wanted to do the right thing for everybody.”
“I know that, baby girl. But that was the problem. You forgot about yourself. The fact that you wanted to make everyone be okay is sweet, but I’m going to make sure that you remember yourself from now on. I’m going to make sure you’re the happiest goddamn person on this planet.”
He brings his lips to mine as we walk, and I hope he can feel my regret and my hope and everything in between. “Where are we going?”
“We talked a lot about going back and doing things differently,” he says. “So I thought that we might do just that.”
We reach the back of the house, and I help him open the door. But I don’t realize what he means until he carries me toward the pool house. “The party?” I say, laughing. “You want to reenact the party?”
“I think reenacting that would take a whole lot more alcohol than we have on hand. But I want us both to have some memories in this pool house that aren’t regret.” We walk in, and he sets me down, not wasting time stripping me. I let him peel my shirt over my head and shove my pants down to my ankles. “That’s better,” he says, “though I do miss that yellow bikini.”
I back him up against the wall where he was standing that night, and I press my body against his. “Maybe you’ll get to see it again some time.”
“I’d better,” he says darkly. “I’ve been fantasizing about you in that bikini for years.”
I laugh. “So it was just my bikini that made you horny that night?”
“No.” He runs his hands down my ribs. “It was your raw, erotic energy. It’s always there. It’s why I can’t be within six feet of you without getting hard. That and I fucking love you.”
“Six feet? I must be losing my touch. And it’s your accent, for me.”
“Mmm,” he says, cupping his hand around the back of my neck. “So when I
tell you that I want you entirely naked right this second, that turns you on?”
I let the heat roll through me. “Yes.”
“Good. Cause you’re mine. And I’m going to show you just how much I mean that.”
He shoves his jeans down and grabs a condom, but I stop him. “No. I don’t want anything in between us now.”
Bryce doesn’t hesitate, just tosses the condom to the side and continues to strip. I get myself naked, and freeze. I’ve literally never been nervous for sex with him before. But this feels different—this feels permanent.
“We’re going to finish what we started,” he says, kissing me hard. My hands land on his chest, and he bends me backwards so I’m nearly off balance—and completely reliant on him.
“What did we start?” I ask breathlessly.
He slides his hands down my back to my ass, grabbing it with his large hands, spreading it open, and it clicks. While we were together in that week, he teased my ass. Using my toys and building up tolerance so that he could fuck me there. In the middle of everything, I forgot about it. “I don’t think I can take you,” I say.
“Not all of me,” he says. “And you don’t have to today. But I am taking your ass, Katti. I want us to have a first together. Don’t worry, by the time we get there, you’ll be so blissed out you’ll already be screaming in pleasure.”
I’m so glad that there’s a bed in the pool house. It makes this so much easier. “Do you…do you need to be warmed up?” I ask.
Bryce smiles, backing me up against the bed and arranging me the way he wants me, head just falling off so I’m looking up at him. “If you’re asking if I want you to milk my cock with your throat,” he says, voice low, “then yes.”
Just those words have my mouth falling open, and Bryce groans as he enters me. I know exactly what he meant last night when he said that he missed the taste of me. The flavor of him makes my mouth water, and I don’t think I’ll ever have enough. I’ve heard other women my age say they don’t like this, but I do. I like the sounds he makes, the taste, and that feeling of being so full that you can’t stop it.
