Fighting Pride

by Jennifer Miller

  Tatum laughs, “What the hell? This isn’t your typical fair game.”

  “It’s like they knew I would be here.”

  She rolls her eyes, “Alright hotshot, let’s see what you’ve got.”

  “Step right up, sir, see if you can win a prize for the lady.”

  “I can definitely win a prize for my lady, but I want to make a deal,” I tell him.

  He crosses his arms and eyes me, “What kind of deal?”

  “I bet you I can reach the highest score, on the first try, and if I do, I want to trade in all of this,” I gesture to the grouping of animals I’ve won for her, “for that,” I point at the giant blue monkey hanging from the top of the tent.

  “The high score on the first try?” He smirks like I’m an idiot.

  “Yep,” I tell him.

  “Deal. In fact, if you get the high score on the first try you don’t even have to give me any of the other animals she has as a trade in, she can have it all.”

  Looking at Tatum, I smile and almost laugh. She’s already holding a yellow elephant, an orange dog, a big yellow smiley face, and a purple and white long worm thing or it might be a snake, I can’t tell. “What do you think, Tay?” I ask, my old nickname for her coming out without thought.

  “Let’s see what you’ve got hotshot.”

  The game is simple, it’s a punching bag hanging from a machine. You punch the bag as hard as you can and the machine gives you a score based on your punch. The highest score is 999. Walking up to the bag, just before I reach it I throw a few practice punches. “Whooo,” Tatum cheers and it makes me laugh. “Looking good!”

  “Alright,” I say out loud. “Here goes.” And then I punch the bag as hard as I can. Tatum walks up next to me immediately and when the numbers move up to 999 so fast it’s a blur, she starts jumping up and down like a kid and cheering.

  “Wow, good job man,” the fair worker tells me while grabbing and stepping up on a chair to get the huge monkey down for Tatum. A few people cheer around us and I smile and nod not even realizing I had an audience. When he hands Tatum the monkey, I laugh and pull my phone out to take a picture. It’s almost as big as she is.

  She poses with the monkey, it’s arm around her shoulders, and another kissing it’s cheek. “I’m going to name him Rampage, after you.”

  Taking some of the other animals from her, I laugh. “How about we ride the Ferris wheel before we get you that elephant ear?”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  The guy working the wheel tells us we can leave all her winnings with him while we ride, so we do. Side to side in the cart, I put my arm around Tatum and give her a squeeze. “I’m glad we did this.”

  “Me too. I’m having so much fun. Thank you for this.”

  We smile at each other and in that moment, the cart hits the top of the wheel and the moon is the perfect backdrop to Tatum. The light from the moon makes her hair shine and a few strands of hair press against her flushed cheek as they blow in the breeze. She’s never looked more beautiful and I ache inside, fucking ache. As we continue to swing around in a circle, I want to say so many things. Tell her how I’ve thought about her every single day. I want to tell her that while losing her is something I’ll never get over, I’d do it the same way all over again if it meant seeing her like this, right now. Because I’ve convinced myself that my sacrifice has been worth it. That she wouldn’t have been able to be like this again without it. That the decision I made for both of us was the right one. The thing is, I’m not sure that I could bare it to think differently, so I’ll just live in this reality then instead.

  Reaching out, I can’t help it, I brush a thumb across her cheek. “Tatum…” I whisper, and she moves toward me, and I her. My eyes are solely on her mouth and I can imagine just what they would feel like pressed against mine.

  When the ride stops suddenly it takes me a minute to realize that the ride is over. The ride monitor holds the foot rest toward the ground waiting. It’s our turn to get off. Clearing my throat, I regret that the moment is broken, but know it’s the right thing.

  “Come on.” We grab her plush animals and head to get her an elephant ear. She wants just the plain one with powdered sugar. We take a seat and people watch while we eat, laughing at the conversations around us.

  When she looks at me, she’s got powdered sugar in the corner of her mouth. Smiling, I point, “You’ve got a little…”

  “What?”

  “Sugar, in the corner of your mouth.”

  She swipes at it, but it doesn’t come off. I use my thumb to brush it away, and she whispers, “Thank you.” When I look at her, her eyes are staring at my mouth. I don’t think twice. The look in her eyes is all I need. I tilt her chin up, then press my mouth to hers. It’s hesitant at first, lips that used to know each other so well, rediscovering each other again. When she sighs and parts her lips just so, I groan and kiss her like I’ve been wanting to all night. I nibble on her bottom lip, I slide my tongue against hers, I cup the side of her face, tangle my hand in her hair. I try to make up for the five years I haven’t been able to kiss these lips in one moment.

  When we pull away, we’re both breathing hard. Panting we stare into each other’s eyes. “Your car,” she says, her voice raspy.

  “My car?”

  “Yes. Let’s go to your car,” she says breathlessly and finally what she’s saying clicks. Without a word I get up, grab the huge monkey in one arm and her hand in the other and lead the way to my car, completely abandoning our food. I’m a man on a fucking mission, I dodge and move around the crowd quickly and when we get to my car, I throw her prizes in the trunk and open the passenger door for her.

  Once inside, I move my seat back and stare at her. We stare at each other. I’m not sure who moves first, maybe it was the same time. All I know is that we collide. Her hand is on my face, her lips on mine. My hand is in her hair again, my moth moving against hers, my tongue darting in and out of her mouth, tasting her, relishing her. She tastes of strawberries and sugar and I don’t think I’ll ever have enough.

  I’m shocked when she pushes my shoulders back and next thing I know she’s crawling over the console and straddling my lap. When her center presses against mine, we groan. Her hips jut and push, grinding against me, seeking friction. Her lips find mine again and my hand is at the small of her back, and then under her shirt slowly sliding up her side.

  There’s an annoying sound in the back of my mind and on some level I realize it’s a phone ringing. We both ignore it and eventually it stops. Her hips move against me again and I’m lost. All I care about is her body against mine, the softness of her skin, and the path my hand is headed. I move to the front of her chest and moan when I feel the lace of her bra. “Tatum,” I whisper and the sound is full of want and need.

  “Yes,” she says, her own hand under my shirt and on my bare skin, squeezing and scratching. She rips my shirt up my stomach, her nails scrape over my abs and play at the button of my jeans. Holy fuck, I think as I adjust my hips and it makes her head fall back on her shoulders, so I kiss her neck, tease her ear. I push her shirt up and bare one of her breasts to me. Just as I lean forward to take the hard peak into my mouth, there’s that noise again. Insistent. Loud.

  Tatum pulls away from me so quickly, the absence of her body heat feels shocking. Her big blue green eyes stare into mine and before I can ask her what’s wrong, she slides out of my lap and reaches toward her phone. Taking it from her purse, she looks at the screen and presses the button shutting it off.

  She tucks her hair behind her ear, takes a deep breath and straightens her clothes. The mood is clearly broken if the look on her face is any indication and I can’t quite decide how I feel. “I’m sorry,” she whispers not facing me.

  Taking a deep breath, I take in the fogged windows and my skewed clothes and tighten my hands into fists. It’s the only way I can keep myself from reaching out and touching her and I’m sure it’s not what she would like from me at the moment.r />
  Pulling down my shirt, I breathe in and out wishing the blood would leave my cock, so I can think clearly once more. She turns in her seat and opens her mouth like she wants to say something and shuts it again. I decide to save her the trouble, “So,” I begin. “Who’s the guy?”

  Her eyes, big and round snap to mine, “Cole?” she says my name in question, but I’m not sure what she’s asking. How I know? What I mean?

  “I saw you with him.” Her brow furrows in confusion. “The night I was given the flyer and saw information about your show, I went to the gallery right away. I looked in the window and after a few minutes, you appeared. Not long after that, a man walked up to you and it was obvious that you’re together.”

  “You knew I was with someone and you kissed me anyway?”

  “Whoa, how is this my fault?”

  She lets out a breath, and shakes her head. “It’s not.” She’s quiet for a minute, “He was my therapist.”

  “Come again?”

  “My boyfriend. He was my therapist in Chicago. The man I saw to help me deal with everything.”

  I can barely get out my words, “You’re boning your therapist? Isn’t that a conflict of interest?”

  “Cole!”

  “What? Tell me right now he didn’t take advantage of you,” I demand feeling a tightening in my chest at the thought.

  “No. He didn’t take advantage of me. It just…happened.”

  “Do you love him?”

  “What?” She asks wide-eyed and I remain quiet because I know she heard me. She sighs heavily and the fact that she isn’t answering me immediately makes my stomach sour a little, and yet, in the back of my mind something is telling me she doesn’t. Because I know her, and if she was completely in love with this guy, she wouldn’t be kissing and grinding against me. “Honestly, I thought I was before. And I don’t mean before seeing you this week, I mean if you had asked me six months ago, I would have said yes. But, I’m not. I know I’m not. I’ve been struggling with my feelings for a while, and I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry? For what?”

  “I’m sorry that I kissed you and…” she gestures between us and her eyes drop to my lap and look away. I almost want to laugh, I’m sure I’m smirking at the very least. “It’s not right. I’m feeling confused. Confused about Blaine…and you…”

  “I’m not complaining.”

  She smiles, “No, I guess you aren’t.” She bites her lip and looks at the window for a second. She laughs a little at the foggy windows and makes a heart with her finger. “I should go.”

  “You don’t have to go. It’s okay. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

  “Well actually, now that you say that, if you knew that I had a boyfriend, why didn’t you say something before?”

  I could tell her that it’s because I don’t give a fuck who she’s with, that if she wanted to kiss me any time, any where, I would kiss her back. I could tell her that I was so caught up in the moment and in being with her, that her having a boyfriend didn’t even occur to me. I could tell her that I’ve dreamed about having one more chance to kiss her again and I wasn’t about to turn down an opportunity. But I don’t say any of that. I say something much more. I tell her the complete truth. “Tay, you’re the love of my life. We could be apart five more years; ten, twenty, it doesn’t matter. I will always remember kissing you and how it makes me feel. Right or wrong, good or bad, boyfriend or no boyfriend, everything else will always fall away when I’m with you. I’m lost in you.”

  I know I’ve taken her off guard; it’s evident in the downward turn or her mouth, the shininess of her eyes, the tenseness in her shoulders. “God, Cole. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say, you’ll still see me tomorrow.” I change the subject giving her room to breathe.

  “Yeah,” she nods her head. “Still want me to meet you at your place?” Her voice trembles a little and I’m not sure if it’s because of my confession or at the thought of being alone with me in my apartment.

  “Yes, please do. As soon as you get there, we’ll walk over to the gym, okay?”

  “Okay. Good night, Cole. I had a really great time.”

  “So did I.”

  We get her winnings from the trunk, and she leaves. I make sure she gets to her car okay and remain still when she takes off. Hands trembling, mind turning, heart aching, I start my own car, and head home.

  My mind has been spinning all day long. Cole and I don’t have plans to meet until early evening because he had to train today so I slept in, did some shopping at the mall and enjoyed a nice lunch. I topped it off by treating myself to a massage at the hotel. It felt so nice, and something I haven’t done in a long time, yet, I had trouble fully being in the minute. Rather, the entire time my thoughts were consumed with the night before and I am in total ambivalence. Even my masseuse told me my shoulders were in knots and helped to rub out some tension.

  I had a really nice time with Cole last night. Maybe too nice of a time, I don’t know. What I do know, is that it was the old us. The old Cole and Tatum, and it felt amazing. We had fun together, laughed, teased each other, and simply enjoyed being together. Like we used to. When we were together, we rarely had a dull moment. Even when I was nose deep in a book and he was watching TV or studying, simply being next to each other was enough. Thinking about leaving the day after tomorrow makes me feel sick to my stomach. I’m not ready to go. Part of me wonders if I ever will be.

  What am I thinking? This is absolutely ridiculous. I came here for my art exhibit – nothing more, nothing less. Seeing Cole was unexpected, a surprise, a good one at that, but I have a life. And he is not a part of it. That’s old news. We are different people. Five years change people. I cannot afford to project more on to this than it really is. So, while it’s been nice to obtain closure, which is something I needed even if I didn’t realize it, I still have a lot of questions and confusions. However, keeping my distance and continuing along the trajectory that I have been pursuing is imperative. Thinking otherwise will just end in disaster and who needs that? But what am I to make of the fact that many of my prior questions and concerns have managed to fall away the last couple of days. Truth is, I’ve been able to live in the moment in a comfortable manner that is not typical – at least it hasn’t been in a really long time.

  And then there’s Blaine. He tried calling me again last night and I didn’t answer - I couldn’t. I’m not sure what I want to say to him yet. The thing is, I should feel guilty for letting myself go that far with Cole but I don’t, not at all. God, in that moment all I could think about was taking my clothes off – taking his clothes off. I wanted to touch him, feel him against me, explore his body, see what’s familiar and what’s new. Thoughts of Blaine didn’t even enter my mind the entire night. That in its self is very telling about where my mind and most importantly my heart is where he’s concerned. As if that wasn’t enough, when I was shopping today I found myself looking at lingerie, imagining myself wearing it for Cole. I walked away, but then went back and bought it. In fact, I bought everything that caught my eye that I loved. Hell, I’m wearing some of it now. I need clarity and feel a bit out of control, and confused. What the hell am I doing?

  I’ll always love Blaine for helping me through the hardest thing I’ve ever been through. He was exactly who I needed at that specific time in my life, but that time has passed. Do I love him? No, not romantically. The idea of spending the rest of my life with him, or even this next chapter, is not appealing. So what am I doing? Has he become my emotional or therapeutic security net? If that were true, why does his therapeutic style annoy me? And why did I have to come here to realize this, to be honest with myself about this? Perhaps I’ve not been provided enough distance or time to think this through. I wish I had a friend I could confide in; one that would help stimulate this level of honesty with myself, but I don’t. I do appreciate Blaine, and all he has done for me, but we are not aligned on what we want from this relationship. Of that I am sure.
How exactly I’ll communicate that to him, I don’t know, but it needs to happen. I owe him that much.

  Pushing my jumbled thoughts away when I pull into the parking lot at Cole’s apartment building, I shut off my car and take a few calming breaths. Taking another look at myself in the mirror, I catch the look of excitement in my eyes at seeing him again. Closing them tightly, I try to calm myself as well as the desire I have to analyze it. I don’t want to think too hard about my feelings right now. I do know that I feel like I’m on the precipice of something, but I don’t know what. I feel both excitement and foreboding at the thought. I know without a doubt my life will be changed when I leave Arizona again. How could it not?

  It doesn’t take me long to find his apartment, and I’ve barely knocked before the door swings open. “Hey,” Cole says smiling at me. I take in his simple black t-shirt and jeans and smile. It’s comforting that some things never change.

  “Hi,” I reply with a smile of my own, feeling both hope and uncertainty about him inviting me inside. He turns around and grabs his keys and I use the opportunity to take a quick look around. His place looks pretty simple. Tidy, no decorations, sparse furniture – a lot of black from what I can tell. There are entryways to two other rooms, but I don’t know what they are because the doors are closed. I’m assuming a bedroom and bathroom. Before I can look around more, he steps out and closes and locks the door behind him.

  He gestures for me to walk in front of him out of the complex and down the stairs, “How was your day?” he asks.

  “It was good. I slept in and decided to go shopping. I hit some of my old favorite boutique stores; they don’t have any of them back home.”

  “Was one of them that little soap shop that you used to love?”

  “Yes! How did you know?” He shrugs and I laugh. “I was delighted to find that it’s still open. I was in there forever and then finally bought a few things; choosing wasn’t any easier than now, than it used to be before.”