Crosstown Crush

by Cara McKenna

  “But this was yours. Yours to direct.”

  “Yeah. You love imagining I’m cheating on you. I guess I just love feeling that desired by two men. And feeling… shared. Like, in the dirtiest way possible.”

  Mike laughed. “Always.”

  “We can go back to it being about the cuckolding, of course. I sort of wrecked the continuity tonight. But we can always go back to you two pretending you’ve never met. Back to the days when I just randomly brought someone home.”

  “The soap opera parts of it don’t matter to me – the narrative. Not the way it did at first. Just seeing you with another man is plenty intense. Tonight was intense, even with all the humiliation stuff gone.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Absolutely. Part of me was pretty fucking proud, in fact, showing him I know how to please you.”

  She smiled. “Me, too.”

  “Maybe I’ll change my mind, but if we want to try making these get-togethers about something else – about you getting to be with us both, however you want, or about whatever he might be wanting… I’m happy to take us all off the script. See where this goes as a straight-up threesome.”

  “I would be, too. And I’ll talk to him. See if he’s on the same page.”

  “Though I think we’re back to surveillance fun, for next weekend,” Mike said, winding Sam’s hair around his finger.

  “Oh, right. I forgot.” Mike was going to be in Philadelphia for three days, for a statewide narcotics summit. “So just me and him, if that’s okay.”

  They’d not done that yet – just Sam and Bern the entire time, and Mike watching via live feed. She’d been wondering how it would be afterward. How she and Bern would say good night once the show was over. If he’d stick around for a drink, or be gone as quickly as when he was here to play Sam’s heartless piece on the side. She thought back to this very evening, thinking she’d better have her boundaries in order. In the middle of getting ravaged by a hot electrician was not the time to try to get one’s head on straight about propriety.

  “Works for me,” Mike said, letting her hair spool from his finger in a long curl. “And I’m sure it’ll work for him. You guys just do whatever you want.”

  “Oh, speaking of cameras…” She left the lazy comfort of the bed with a grudging groan to shut the laptop. “So, Saturday night?”

  “Yeah. The meetings are supposed to wrap early that night. I’ll grab a quick dinner and be free by seven.”

  “Fingers crossed your hotel Wi-Fi is nice and fast,” she teased as she lay back down beside him, rubbing her thumb across his stubbled chin.

  He smiled, bent his head to kiss her knuckles. “Amen.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  B

  ern was free the coming Saturday, and plans solidified through a handful of texts.

  Can’t fucking wait, he wrote that Monday.

  Us, either. See you around 6:30.

  With Mike leaving for Philly on Wednesday morning, Sam’s week would feel endless, even if the anticipation always sweetened these dates.

  She waded through the workweek, her normally stimulating job no longer holding a candle to the dynamism of her personal life. No fewer than three of her coworkers asked her if she was feeling okay. She assured them she was.

  “Just spacey. One of those weeks.” Just horny out of my ever-loving mind, thanks.

  Saturday arrived, along with the usual happy jitters. Mike texted around noon with a bit of a letdown.

  Hey, pretty, you jinxed us. Just tried watching YouTube and the connection here sucks donkey balls. Why don’t you guys tape yourselves tonight and e-mail it to me?

  “Boo,” she said to the living room at large, then typed, Aww, that stinks! But okay – I doubt your heart could handle the buffering. And the show must go on, huh?

  Fucking right. Plus, this way I can grab drinks with a few of the guys after the last meeting wraps. Love you. See you before bed, I hope…?

  Banging another man? Absolutely! xoxo

  Except just a few minutes shy of five, a phone call chimed. Sam greeted her mother cheerfully, expecting the usual family gossip, but it was a different sort of news that followed. Sam felt the weight of the real world come crashing down around her, as painful and sudden as a shot in the heart.

  She hung up with tears streaming, wetting her shirt collar and slipping between her breasts. It was all she could do to tap out a shaky text to Bern. Something just came up. I have to cancel tonight – I’m sorry. I’ll explain soon. She set her phone aside, throat so tight it ached, eyes raw.

  Mike was probably still having drinks. Going to call you later tonight, she texted. Try to be free after dinner. She’d try his phone at seven, when she and Bern had been due to hit RECORD for him. It might interrupt his social plans, but she needed to talk to him so badly. Needed him here with her, as the news left her feeling suspended, the earth crumbled away from beneath her feet. She gripped the counter’s edge, rocked by a sob, and moaned into the emptiness. Seven couldn’t come soon enough, though the wait would give her time to compose herself. She’d take a bath. That would —

  The doorbell chimed.

  “Oh fuck.” Her phone said it was six fifteen, so it could only be Bern. She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands, but there was no way he’d miss that she’d been crying. She’d showered after a long run but not gotten around to changing or doing her makeup before the news had struck. It didn’t matter now. It felt as though nothing mattered anymore.

  She twisted the bolt and opened the door, her sheepish smile quivering. “Hi.”

  “Hey.” He paused, his own smile wilting. He had a bottle of wine under one arm. “Are you okay?”

  She laughed, feeling mixed up and freaked out and ridiculous. An utter mess. “Not at all, no. Sorry. I texted, but you were probably already driving.”

  “Did you need to cancel?”

  Sam nodded. “Yeah. I just got some bad news. I’m not really feeling very…” And she trailed off, voice swallowed by a warble. “Sorry,” she gasped.

  “Hey, it’s okay. I should’ve checked my phone. I didn’t mean to intrude… Maybe you should sit down a sec.” He stepped inside and shut the door.

  She wiped at her runny nose with her wrist and they walked down the hall to the living room. Sam sank onto the couch cushions. She reached for a tissue but the box was empty.

  “Hang on.” Bern set the wine bottle on the breakfast bar and disappeared inside the bathroom, returning with a roll of toilet paper. “Here.”

  Grinning in embarrassment, Sam accepted it. “Thank you.” She blew her nose. “Are you feeling seduced yet?” she joked, heart loosening by a degree when Bern smiled.

  His gaze was mild, calm. Kind. “Can I ask what happened?”

  “You can, but only if you’re prepared for me to have three dimensions.”

  He looked troubled at that, eyebrows drawing together. She’d never seen him wear that expression before.

  “I mean, only if we want to wreck our group fantasy,” she said, “by you seeing me as more than just your… whatever you think of me as. Kinky fling partner? We’ve managed to keep everything all fun and games before now. I’d hate to drag it down.”

  “You’re my lover, Sam, not a blow-up doll. You’ve had three dimensions since the first time we talked on the phone. You’ve had about six since what happened last weekend. And if my acting like a friend to you feels too intimate…” He laughed again, softly, voice dropping to a near whisper. “Sam, your husband’s sucked my dick. You think a little crying’s going to scare me off?”

  She had to smile, tears still slipping free. “When you put it like that…”

  “So what happened?”

  “My cousin died.”

  “Oh God, that sucks. I’m so sorry.”

  Sam nodded. “Thank you. I haven’t seen her in years – she lived in Tehran, like most of my dad’s family does. But she used to visit every summer when we were kids.”

  “You guys were
close?”

  “I’m two years older, but she was always more sophisticated and worldly than me, so it felt like we came of age together, sort of time-lapse-style.”

  “Can I ask what…”

  “She was walking, and I guess someone ran a red light. Just one of those freaky things.”

  “Shit. That fucking sucks, Sam.” He paused. “Wish I had something more poetic or comforting to say. But mostly that just really sucks.”

  Sam laughed, fresh sobs rising. “That’s all that can be said about it, really. So thanks… Anyhow, I’m just dealing with that. My mom only called around five, so I’m still in shock.”

  “Sure. Want me to go, or stick around and distract you?”

  “God, I dunno.” She smoothed her hair back, curls wild and fuzzy from air-drying. “I’m such a fucking mess tonight.”

  “I’ll at least stick around for a bit. It’s no good being on your own right after you get news like that.”

  “I don’t really feel like talking about it.”

  “Sure. We’ll talk about other stuff, then.”

  She dabbed at her eyes. “Like?”

  “Like anything… Like when did your dad come here? To the States?”

  “In his early thirties, with my mom. He’s an engineering professor.”

  “Really? My dad’s an engineer. Or was – he retired a couple of years ago.”

  “Oh?” Sam mustered the energy to make small talk. It felt nice, actually. A relief. “Let me guess – electrical engineering?”

  “No, structural. Rail and bridge infrastructure.”

  “What about your mom?”

  “She teaches high school English.”

  Sam considered that. “Is that how an electrician came to write his e-mails and texts with such studious capitalization and punctuation?”

  Bern smiled. “Yup, that’s her fault.”

  “So how’d you get into your field?”

  “It’s a pretty boring story.”

  “Boring sounds nice, just now.” It beat sad, certainly. “Tell me.”

  “Well, my parents are hard-asses,” he said, “and if I was going to college, I had to pay my own way. I didn’t want to do farmwork, which is most of what there is to do where I’m from. I tried driving delivery trucks but hated that. My dad got me connected with a contractor friend, and I just… I dunno, I really liked it. I did menial work for a couple of years when I was eighteen, nineteen, and thought the electrical stuff looked the most interesting, so I got certified. Then I apprenticed for a guy I knew from that contracting company, worked a few years, and realized that all that time, I’d been saving money for this education I was supposed to get, except there was no other field I was all that interested in. I was happy doing what I was, and getting paid well for it. So. Here I am.”

  “Here you are,” she agreed, and her gaze dropped from his eyes to his chest, to his long legs, his strong hands. It wasn’t a lustful scrutiny, just a momentary rush of… something softer. Something humbling. Gratitude to have him here, acting like a friend. Being a friend. Being three-dimensional, just as she’d feared becoming to him.

  Why wouldn’t I want that? I don’t really want to sleep with the idea of a man. I want to sleep with a human being. A hot, charismatic one with undeniable skills in bed and a very, very open mind. A kind one, too, who made her feel human in return.

  Even if he didn’t feel like comforting and distracting her, even if he wished he’d gotten her text and saved himself the trip… even if he’d go home disappointed that he hadn’t gotten laid, he was doing everything a friend would. Setting his wants aside, treating her well. And it was undeniably calming. Her body hurt less. Her heart had loosened some, and that choking sensation had faded along with the initial shock of the sad news.

  They chatted more about their upbringings, about Sam’s college years, about the small town where Bern had grown up, about Pittsburgh. When the conversation hit a natural break, she sighed, feeling lighter.

  “Little calmer?” he asked.

  “Yeah.” It was hard not to feel calm around this man. His voice alone was like a nightcap.

  She reached out and touched his hand. Funny how intimate – how bold – that felt, after everything else they’d done. Bold but pleasant. “Thanks,” she murmured. “I’m sorry you got your time wasted tonight, but it was nice to not be alone with myself for a little while.”

  He smiled and turned his hand over, circling her wrist loosely in his fingers. “My time wasn’t wasted. I don’t think people can do the things we have with and for each other without qualifying as friends, Samira. And anyone who thinks it’s a waste of their time, hanging out with a friend who’s having a shitty day… well, they deserve a punch in the side of the head.”

  She laughed, rubbing his palm with her thumb. “Good point.”

  “I brought wine, and my night’s all freed up. You want to watch TV or a movie or something?” He paused, seeming to reconsider. “I mean, unless that’s weird. Unless Mike would be uncomfortable with that.”

  Mike. She wasn’t certain if she’d ever heard Bern speak his name before. And she had to give the matter serious thought. What would Mike want? For his wife to sit home alone with her grief, if the alternative was for her to get her emotional comfort from his sexual rival? There was a line buried in here somewhere, a blurry one. But she also doubted that Bern had any designs on her apart from fun and sex. He wasn’t trying to move in on her, or on Mike’s role as her partner.

  She told Bern, “I think he’d rather I had the company.”

  “You can check with him.”

  She considered it, but he was probably still out, and she hadn’t told him precisely when to expect her call. “He’s having drinks with colleagues right now.”

  “Glass of wine while we wait?”

  Sam thought about it. “You know what? He thinks you’re coming over tonight to fuck me. If he’s going to have an issue with us hanging out fully clothed, as friends, on a night when I really don’t feel like being alone…? That’s an argument I’m willing to have with him. So, executive decision – sure. Let’s watch a movie.”

  “Right, then. You pick, I’ll pour.”

  Sam knew a lot of things about Bern Davies’s tastes, but none of them helped her as she scrolled through the offerings on Netflix. He seemed like an action-movie kind of guy. And she could go for some mindless explosions and stunts just now. “How about I pick three, and then you decide between those?” she called.

  Bern was at the breakfast bar, busy with the cork. “Just pick. I’ll watch whatever.”

  “That’s too much pressure. I’ll choose three.”

  “As you like it,” he said, and walked over to deliver glasses and the open bottle to the coffee table.

  “Okay,” she said, eyes narrowed at the screen. “This new superhero thing is option number one.”

  “Already saw it. Kinda sucked.”

  “See? I told you choices were important. Okay, how about something older, then?” she asked, scrolling. “I’ve never seen Commando.”

  “A classic.”

  “Okay, Commando, or…”

  “Commando. Hit PLAY.”

  “Bossy,” she scolded, but did as he said.

  Bern took a seat and filled the glasses. Sam got comfy, sitting cross-legged and pulling the afghan over her lap. She wasn’t cold, just vulnerable, and the weight of it was comforting. Same as Bern’s arm might feel if she leaned into it… but she didn’t dare. She was studying that arm as the studio logo appeared, and he noticed.

  She turned to the screen. “Sorry. You have distracting arms.”

  “Are you flirting with me?”

  “No, just being honest.” She glanced down at herself and laughed. “Wow, you’re really peering behind the curtain tonight.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I got that bad news before I could pick out some clothes or do anything with my hair.”

  “I think you look beautiful.”
>
  She snorted. “This is what I’d wear to clean the house.”

  “Well, you must look beautiful when you’re dusting, then.”

  She smacked his shoulder. “You Southern men.”

  “What about us?”

  “What’s the term? Honey-dripper.”

  He made a face, the picture of innocence. “Never. I just call it like I see it.”