Saving Toby

by Suzanne McKenna Link

  I bit my lip. “What kind of present?”

  Still wearing his swimsuit, he knelt before me and applying pressure to my legs, he straightened them up, along his chest. “The kind that doesn’t have a price tag but is sure to please,” he said, and holding my gaze, he pulled my bottoms off, letting them drop carelessly to the floor.

  He lowered my left leg onto the bed beside him, and holding my right leg up, he pressed a series of hot kisses behind my knee before he dragged his teeth back up my thigh. I hissed as a pleasurable ache shot through me. When he shifted lower on the bed, I knew beyond any doubt what he intended to do.

  Reflexively, I tried to close my legs, but his strong fingers held them apart. He pressed his palm against my sex. The warmth startled me, and I let out a little moan.

  “Don’t fight me.” The command was gentle. “I promise, you’ll like it.”

  In a state of arousal, my heart beat at a frenzied pace. The sight of him over me—this sexy, handsome guy, the only guy I’d ever trusted to touch me so intimately—consumed me with physical need. It had been so long ago that I’d let anyone touch me, that he’d touched me, but it was the sudden conscious awareness that I still loved him that weakened me. I was so desperate to feel him, I didn’t have the strength or desire to stop what was about to happen.

  Without waiting for my spoken consent, he stroked me with his thumb. Leaning over my stomach, he kissed my belly as his fingers slid lower to pet me. While I sighed with pleasure, he nipped sensuously at my hip and pelted me with kisses and licks down over my pelvis until he reached the top of my thigh.

  “Claudia,” he whispered, pausing his motion. “Open your eyes, baby. Look at me.”

  Flushed, I peered down at him. He hovered over me, just as tense with desire as I.

  “You love me?” he asked.

  I was too struck by our intimacy to hide it.

  “Yes.”

  “Say it.”

  “I love you.”

  Leaning back over me, he kissed my lips. “Thank you, baby,” he said softly.

  He shifted his body lower, and as his fingers stirred and teased me, he said, “Say it again.”

  Faltering and breathless under his deft strokes, I repeated, “I love you.”

  With a contented sigh, he replaced his fingers with his mouth, kissing me softly between my legs. As his lips moved slow and gentle over the sensitive area, I gasped, shocked at how powerful the sensation was.

  With darkened eyes, he gazed at me, a brief, triumphant smile on his handsome face before he kissed me again, and again, gradually increasing the pressure and the length of each kiss. I squirmed under him and shuddered when his tongue flicked over me. Clutching handfuls of his hair, I let my head fall back and became lost in sensation.

  My legs began to shake as riotous seizure took hold of me and strung me out. It was so intense, I whimpered at the release. As my body trembled, Toby rose to lie beside me and hold me in his arms.

  He pressed his face into my hair. “Did you like your birthday present?”

  “Mmmm, nice,” I murmured through a smile, as my body tingled with warm fuzziness. I was utterly sated.

  “I’m glad I’m the first for that, too.”

  Wistful, I swished my fingers over his chest. “Will I ever be able to claim a first with you?”

  He leaned back to look in my face, his eyes meeting mine. “Claudia, you love me,” he whispered. “I never had that with anyone else. That outweighs anything and everything else.”

  His words, though sincere, were missing something. A seed of doubt began to take root, but too exhausted to dwell upon it, I curled myself around him, and fell asleep.

  52. Claudia

  Fighting the morning sun coming through the large bedroom window overlooking the Pacific Ocean, I opened my eyes slowly. With a groan, I noticed the bed was disheveled, and I was naked—a reminder of the night’s spontaneous events. The only sign of Toby was the indent in the pillow where his head had been. I slipped on a tee shirt and panties and padded to the bathroom. I downed some painkillers for my headache and brushed the rancid sweetness from my mouth—both, no doubt the effect of the piña coladas I’d consumed so blithely the night before. Back in my bedroom, I engaged the lock on the door and sunk back down into bed. I needed to think about what had happened last night.

  Before I could even attempt to rationalize anything, there was a tap at the door.

  “Good morning, beautiful. I have coffee for you,” Toby said through the door.

  “Leave it on the table out there,” I mumbled.

  The doorknob rattled, and I heard him sigh. “Claude,” his voice lost the easy tone. “Open the door.”

  “No.”

  Then gentler. “Let me in. Please. I just want to talk.”

  “I don’t want to talk.”

  “Okay, then just let me in anyway,” he said, but I didn’t reply.

  There were three hard raps against the door.

  “Hear that?” he asked.

  Of course, I’d heard it, but still, I remained quiet.

  “It’s my head banging against the door.”

  I coughed out a laugh despite myself. “Well, stop doing that.”

  He banged again. Three times. “I’m going to keep it up until you either let me in or I knock myself out.”

  His cajoling insistence was distressing. It made me weepy. “Go away,” I begged.

  “Uh uh. I’m not going anywhere,” he said, then added, “Better figure out how you’ll explain my unconscious body to April and Dario when they find me.”

  He hit the door three more times. “Starting to feel woozy.”

  His ridiculousness exasperated me, but I threw my legs over the side of the bed anyway. “Okay already!”

  Unlocking the door, I retreated to the bed, bowing my head so he wouldn’t see the tears in my eyes. I saw him balancing two paper cups of coffee and a white, waxed bag as he came through the door. With his foot, he pushed the door shut behind him, gingerly placed everything on the night table and knelt on the floor next to the bed.

  “Hey,” he looked up at me. “What happened? When I woke up, you were practically wrapped around me like a second skin. Guess I shouldn’t have gone to get coffee, huh?”

  I peered at him. Despite the serious look on his face, he was charmingly disheveled; light stubble shadowed his chin, and though shorter, his wavy hair was errant and sleep-mussed. My body pulsed with the desire to touch him.

  I dared not.

  “Toby, last night was a mistake.”

  “Nothing has ever been so right as you and me,” he insisted. “Claude, this was not some one-night stand.” He took my hand in his. “I want to be with you.”

  Pulling my hand from his, I fell sideways, collapsing heavily on the bed. I clutched a pillow to my chest. “How can we possibly think this will work between us?”

  The bed creaked as he moved to lie down next to me, his face only inches from mine. “If you give me a chance, we will make it work.”

  I rubbed my eyes tiredly. “We tried this before. We don’t fit in each others’ lives.”

  “Didn’t last night remind you how amazing we are together?”

  “Yes, it did.” Our eyes met, and I struggled to articulate the thing that scared me most. “But when things got tough, you were not only angry, you were cruel to me. In all my life, no one has ever been that mean to me before.”

  He exhaled gruffly and released my hands, backing up as if I’d taken a shot at him.

  “Jesus, I was such a mess then. Dev was in my face, you were leaving, and then … and then Julia died,” he whispered. “Claude, it got too difficult to be the guy I was trying to be for you. And I was sure it was the end of us, so before you could break up with me, I struck first.” He glanced up at me, his expression solemn. “Bob said I pushed you away to protect myself. I’ve had a lot of hurt in my life. I was so afraid of getting hurt, again.”

  I remembered the boy he’d been, the kid in m
iddle school with the sad eyes. “I know what you’ve been through. I would never add to it,” I cried.

  “I know that.” He pulled the pillow away from me and moved closer. “I’m not looking for sympathy. I just need you to understand why I did what I did. Claudia, I know how much I hurt you, but I’m not that guy anymore. I swear I won’t hurt you again.”

  He put his arms around me and stroked my hair. I closed my eyes. Even though I empathized with his story, and I did understand, I was still ambivalent about a future for us.

  In his arms, I was comforted, and I didn’t attempt to move away.

  He looked at me, seeming lost in thought as he swept the hair off my face and caressed my cheek. He leaned in and nuzzled my cheek. His lips skimmed my eyelashes to the tip of my nose, and, grazed my lips until he pressed them against my mouth more fully, eliciting an answering response from me. Giving in, I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around his neck. We kissed over and over. Our lips met softly in kisses that were tender, yet unmistakably passionate.

  Moments later, we heard April and Dario’s voices in the kitchen. Toby stilled, and, with a sigh, he gave me another quick kiss before he pulled back and stood up.

  “Everything’s going to be fine. We’ll hash out the details when you come home, alright?” Moving to the night table, he picked up one of the cups and handed it to me. “Coffee, just how you like it, and there’s a blueberry muffin in the bag.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Shit, I gotta get moving. We have to leave for the airport now.”

  He took the other hot cup, and opening the door, he moved to leave the bedroom.

  “Toby,” I called out, and he turned back around. “I haven’t made a decision on where I want to go for my Master’s degree.”

  He leaned against the doorframe. “I’m the deciding factor, I guess. You’ll come back to New York, for school and for me.”

  “What if I don’t want to go to school in New York?”

  His eyes narrowed as he came closer. “Claude, my life is in New York. I got a new job and my band … there’s no other way.”

  I clutched the warm coffee cup between both my hands and raised my chin. “You want me to base an important decision on what you believe is good for us, but while you asked me to admit my love for you, you still haven’t admitted your love for me.”

  Sighing, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “That’s not fair. You know I don’t have an easy time with that.”

  “What’s not fair is that you expect me to drop everything I have here to run back to New York without any assurances.”

  “I meant everything I said this morning. I won’t hurt you again.”

  “And I’m sure you believe that.” I peered up at him through lowered lashes. “This week with you, it was so much fun. And last night … was incredible. But what forced us to an end that July was not only your anger—it was your inability to admit you loved me. How can I trust that you’re honestly vested in our relationship?”

  There was a motion behind him. “Sorry, man,” I heard Dario say. “We got to get a move on. We have to turn in the rental car at the airport before the flight.”

  “Yeah, okay,” Toby mumbled over his shoulder. Turning back to me, he ran a hand through his hair. “Claude, I don’t know what to say.”

  I raised my eyes to him. “It’s simple. Tell me you love me.”

  He blinked, but said nothing.

  For a moment, I had to close my eyes and cover my mouth. I fought through the heartache and shook my head. “That’s what I thought.”

  He shot forward, towards the bed, his arms open. “Claudia, I—”

  “Oh, don’t you dare!” I threw out a hand to make him stop. “Don’t placate me by saying it now.”

  “But I can say it.”

  “I’ve no doubt you can pronounce the words. Most people can,” I reproved. “But I won’t believe you if you do.”

  “What do you expect me to do with that?”

  “There’s nothing you can do,” I snapped, but then I began to cry. “You’d better go. You’re going to miss your flight.”

  “Screw the flight. I can’t leave like this.”

  “I can’t do this with you,” I argued. “Please, just go.”

  He came closer, his legs touching the bed as he leaned towards me. I took a breath, and wiping my eyes, I met his stare.

  His expression was terse. “I’m not just going to let this go. We need to talk about this, Claudia.”

  “Fine. Whatever. But not until after graduation.”

  53. Claudia

  After two years, LAX to JFK had become a routine plane ride. Now, with four years of college completed and graduation over, it felt anything but routine. A major part of my life had ended. Finished. While I had the next step in my education mapped out, I had a whole, unplanned summer ahead of me—one that involved going home to face Toby.

  Despite my restlessness, Dad snored softly in the seat next to me. I smiled as I thought back to how happy he had been yesterday at my ceremony.

  The weeks leading up to graduation had been tiresome. Between studying for finals and an incredible amount of tasks, rehearsals, exit interviews, sifting through loan documents, and other university forms, I spent so much time hunched over my computer, I was sure rigor mortis would set in. Despite all the work, the result was worth it. The commencement ceremony at the University of Southern California was exhilarating. Graduation day was a perfect seventy-five degrees. It was with an incredible feeling of accomplishment that I marched to the platform to receive my Bachelor’s diploma, magna cum laude. Having my mother and father together, smiling proudly from the crowd, was one of the highlights of the day.

  Even with the excitement and busyness of all that encompassed those weeks, I’d known once graduation was over I had to talk to Toby. That last day at the resort he’d told me if we were to move forward, he wanted me back in New York. It meant I wouldn’t have a decision of where I’d be doing my graduate work, and even though I was now open to the idea of us getting back together again, I didn’t want to be forced into a choice that was not my own. Coming home solely to be with him would mean taking a great leap of faith, one I wasn’t sure I was ready to take.

  I liked to think that over the last years away I’d learned a lot about life and people. And about myself. Death and heartbreak had toughened me up, but it was my time away at school that gave me new perspective and taught me to appreciate all the blessings I had in my life. I was returning home a much more confident, strong, and fiercely independent person than the one who left Long Island two years ago. In the end, the decision I made was for me.

  Toby was expecting to hear from me as soon as I got in so we could get together, but after Dad and I arrived home, I decided to wait to call him. I hopped in the shower to freshen up, and twisting my wet hair up in a knot, I put on the first thing in my suitcase that wasn’t a wrinkled mess—a simple flouncy-skirted, floral print dress. Dad had my Camry gassed up and ready to go. I kissed my father’s cheek, grabbed my keys, and headed out the door.

  Nervous and fidgety about Toby’s and my impending conversation, I decided to take the short drive up to St. Lawrence Cemetery and spend some quiet time with Mrs. Faye before I called and arranged to meet up with him. I drove through the familiar town streets to the memorial park.

  Time was slipping towards the evening hour, but the sun, weeks from summer solstice, was not ready to surrender the sky to the moon. Beautiful splashes of orange and pink colored the horizon as I pulled into the small cemetery and navigated to the most northern end. There were two other cars parked along the narrow roads. One of them was a red Jeep. With an immediate twinge of nerves, I pulled up behind the Wrangler and turned off my car. I rechecked my appearance in the rearview mirror before I got out. Stepping onto the lush mat of grass sprouting from the rain-softened ground, I scanned the area for Toby’s tawny-colored head, but I didn’t see him.

  I started towards the grave. Rounding the beginning
of the row, I finally spotted him, on the ground. He sat in front of his mother’s grave, leaning back on his arms, a jacket clutched in one hand. There was seriousness in his disposition, his eyes trained on the headstone as if he were deeply absorbed in his thoughts. I stood for a moment noticing the long length of his jean-clad legs as they extended straight out in front of him, and the way his heather-gray rugby hugged his muscular shoulders. His hair was wavy and hit the collar of his shirt. Perfectly groomed goatee shadowed his mouth and chin. He seemed older, more mature, and more gorgeous now than when I’d first met him.

  I approached quietly. “Hope I’m not interrupting.”

  Turning in surprise, he leaned his head back and squinted through the low-angled sunlight. “Claudia,” he murmured. Almost self-consciously, he ran a hand through his hair. “Just having a chat with mi madre.” He twisted his upper body towards me. “I was telling her that you had your graduation yesterday. She would have been proud of you.”

  I glanced over at the headstone and smiled. “She always supported my decision to go.”

  “Well, you did it. You’re officially a college graduate.” He gave me the thumbs up. “How was the ceremony? Did you get my message?”

  “It went well,” I nodded. “And yes. I got your message. Thank you.” He had left me a brief but sweet voicemail yesterday morning, wishing me a good day.

  He looked down at his hands. It was easy to see he felt as nervous about this as I. A gusty breeze whipped at the hem of my dress, and automatically, I pressed it down against my thighs to keep it from flying up.

  Toby watched me wrestle the fabric until finally the wind let up. His eyes, lit with a palpable and all too familiar interest, leisurely made their way back up to my face. My whole body warmed.

  “You’d better pop a squat.” He nodded, motioning to the ground. “My mind will be in the gutter if the wind keeps lifting your dress like that. And since you didn’t attempt to hug or kiss me hello, it’s obvious that you have other things on your mind.”