by Tabatha Kiss
“Have you thought about what I said last week?” Sumner asks.
Kick him to the curb, honey.
I tap my knees. I nod.
Her fingers ready themselves for another happy gesture. “...And?”
I bite my lip as a sudden heatwave touches my cheeks.
She sighs, her fingers thudding back onto her lap. “Kimber, I’m going to give you permission to do something. You might not like it. You might even reject it, but when you leave here tonight I want you to genuinely think about doing it. Just once over the next week. Okay?”
“Okay,” I say. “What?”
“Be selfish,” she says.
I blink. “Selfish?”
She leans forward again. “I’m giving you permission to do something for the soul purpose of making you happy. Anything at all. Doesn’t matter how small. Just one thing. I want you to reach out and take it. Anything your heart desires.”
A shiver travels up my spine. “Anything?” I repeat.
“Yes!” she says. “Kimber, I’ve known you for a long time now. When you walked in here tonight, I knew something had changed. You spent this last week tending to your needs, didn’t you? You took chances and came out smiling. Am I right or am I right?”
I feel a phantom thumb brush my bottom lip. “Right,” I say.
“I want you to come in here next week looking even better. When my patients take care of themselves, it makes my job easier, and when my job is easier, I’m a happy camper. So!” She claps her hands once. “One thing. That’s your homework.”
“One thing,” I repeat.
“That’s all.”
I think for a moment, rejecting the idea like she said I might.
“But what if...” I pause.
“What if what?”
“What if what I want hurts another person?” I ask.
“Another person... like your husband?” she says.
I hesitate. “Yes.”
“Let me put it this way...” She points at the empty seat beside me. “Does that hurt you?” she asks.
I look at the chair. “Yes,” I answer.
Sumner nods. “Do you think he cares?”
Sixteen
Nate
Drive, drop, and go.
Suddenly not so much fun anymore.
Not that this gig is the height of entertainment in the first place but at least I had something to look forward to before. I had a little hope that this whole thing was worth something.
But hey. At least I got a kiss.
That’s some kind of thing.
I think.
I sit on my bike outside of the VanHouten house. I’ve packed the crate full of her usual Friday order of veggies and eggs but I can’t seem to make myself go up that sidewalk yet. I’m not ready to close this door, no matter how keen Kimber is on locking me out.
Actually, no. Screw that. I shouldn’t be nervous. Quite frankly, I should be kind of pissed off.
There are unsaid words to be said here. We kissed. It’s a fact. There’s no reason why two adults shouldn’t be able to talk about that. Locking doors and avoiding each other isn’t what adults do.
I grab the crate and make my way up the sidewalk. I roll a fist and shift the crate to rest beneath my left arm, taking hard, purposeful steps toward the closed back door.
The door opens before I even manage to knock. I shift backward, surprised by the sudden movement, and instantly lock eyes with Kimber.
Eyes. I can see both of them.
She didn’t hide the right one behind a curtain of blonde this time. I can see her scars but she doesn’t seem to care. She just looks at me with those big, blue eyes and I…
What was I gonna do?
“Hey,” she says.
I swallow hard and drop my hand. “Hey,” I say.
She stares at me, her face twitching with the most adorable nervous flutter I’ve ever seen... but I can’t keep thinking about Kimber VanHouten like that.
“Hey, did you need anything extra today?” I ask, my voice cracking. “I’ve got some eggs that Mrs. Trin decided she didn’t want.”
“No,” she says. “I’m good.”
“All right.” I hold out the crate. “Here you go.”
She eyes the crate, her cheeks pinching with amusement. “Nate…”
“Yeah?”
“Can we talk?” she asks.
“Uh...”
“It’ll only take a minute.”
“Yeah. If you want,” I say, letting out a laugh. “Can’t imagine what you’d want to talk to me about...”
She chuckles and bites her lip, pausing for a brief moment before shifting backward and leaving the door open for me.
This is fine. She wants to talk. That’s what I came up here to do. Talk.
I walk inside.
“You can put the crate on the table,” Kimber says.
I follow her instruction and move toward it. As I set the crate down, my chest jolts with the memory of her sitting on this table. Her hands on me. My hands on her…
The door closes behind me. I turn to see her hand fall from the knob and looks over at me with a soft, tepid gaze.
“I’m sorry about Wednesday,” she says.
“It’s all right. Don’t worry about it.”
“No, I should have…” She pinches the finger of her gloved hand. “I shouldn’t have ignored you.”
I cock my head. “You ignored me?”
“I wasn’t in the mood to see anybody. It wasn’t personal. Probably should have just told you that instead, but…” She shrugs her heavy shoulders. “It was bad timing. I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted.”
She smiles. “Thank you.”
“Did something happen?” I ask.
“Nothing worth talking about right now,” she says.
I nod. “All right.”
“Except, maybe…” Her eyes wander to the table behind me. “Well, that kiss.”
“Oh, the kiss?” I wave a hand. “I hadn’t even thought twice about it, honestly…”
She blinks. “You haven’t?”
“It was no big deal. Just… you know, a friendly gesture.”
She walks toward me. “A friendly gesture?” she repeats.
“Yeah. I do that to all my… friends.”
“Oh, really?”
I nod, committing to it. “That’s right.”
“Well, I can see now why you and Will are so close,” she jokes.
I chuckle. “Welp. You caught us.”
Kimber stops in front of me, her eyes falling from my face. She looks down at my shirt and pauses, wheels definitely spinning in her head.
I hold my breath. “Kimber?”
Her gloved hand rises from her side and she lays her palm on my chest, firing a long line of chills around my shoulders and down my back.
“Kimber,” I say, “what are you doing?”
“Touching you,” she says.
“Why?”
“Because you said I could.”
“Okay...” I blink. “I did, but...”
Kimber shifts even closer and pushes up onto her toes. Her lips come within an inch of mine and she looks into me with those deep, blue eyes.
“Talk to me,” she whispers.
I lean back a little. “What do you mean?”
“Like you want me.” Her hand slides from my chest to my shoulder. “If you saw me at the bar and you wanted to pick me up, what would you say?”
“Uh…” My nose tingles with the scent of her. “I don’t know.”
“You’ve thought about it before, haven’t you?” she asks.
“Well, I… don’t know about that.”
She smiles at my answer. “I know you had a crush on me back then, Nate.”
I bite my tongue. “You do?”
“Jovie told me.”
I cringe. “She was not supposed to tell you that…”
Kimber chuckles. “It’s okay. I’m happy she did.”
“You are?” I ask,
finding truth in her eyes.
“It’s what everybody wants, isn’t it?” Her hand moves down my arm. “To be desired.”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“So, talk to me,” she says again. “Pick me up.”
My ears ring as blood pounds in my ears. I pause to breathe, feeling as if I might pass out if I don’t.
Is this really happening?
Am I dreaming? Is she real?
Did I die?
“Nate?” she asks.
“Wait, hold on.” I blink twice, trying to make sense of it. “Am I picking up Kimber VanHouten or Kimber Kyle?”
“Does it make a difference?”
“Doesn’t it?”
She inhales slowly and pulls her hand away from me. “I guess it does,” she says, her eyes dropping.
What are you doing?
“Kimber—”
“Sorry, I…” She steps away from me. “I’m acting like an idiot. You’re right.”
“No,” I say quickly. “You’re not. Forget I said—”
“You should go. You can let yourself out.”
She turns around and walks out of the kitchen.
You fucking moron.
I cringe. “Wait, Kimber!”
“Just go home, Nate.”
How could you fuck this up?
“No, hold on,” I say.
I follow her into the hallway with no plan whatsoever. I just want to banish that rejected expression on her face.
She makes a hard right turn toward the stairwell. I widen my strides to catch up with her and reach out to grab her hand before she can get too far up.
“Kimber—”
I squeeze what I think are fingers but she takes another step and the black glove slips right off her hand.
Kimber spins back around and snaps her discolored hand against her chest, quickly cradling it out-of-sight.
I pretend I didn’t see the three nubs where fingers should be and stare at the glove instead.
“Shit,” I say, my guts churning with guilt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
I hold it out for her to take back but she doesn’t move. Kimber just looks at it, barely breathing while I try and imagine how the hell I’m supposed to get out of this.
“Kimber,” I say. “I… am so sorry—”
She snorts and raises her hands to cover her mouth. A deep laugh makes her shoulders twitch as she tries to hold it in, her cheeks quickly turning a bright pink.
I lean back. “Uh…”
Kimber tries to force the laugh away. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just…” She breaks again, her face cracking as her eyes begin to water.
“Okay, what?” I ask.
“The look — on your face—” she says between breaths. “I’m sorry—”
She lets out a loud laugh from deep in her gut and places a hand on her ribs and the other on the banister to hold herself up.
I shake my head at her. “Good God, woman…”
She throws her head back, laughing so hard, and I can’t help but catch it. I start to laugh with her, admiring the adorable dimples in her cheeks and the wild blue of her eyes.
Goddamn, she’s perfect.
I take the next step up, aligning our faces and she takes another deep breath. She stands upright, quickly wiping her eyes as she tries to hold herself together.
As soon as her mouth closes, I lean in and kiss her. Her laugh melts away as I take hold of her shoulders and her hands rise to rest on my chest.
“I changed my mind,” I say, lowering my voice.
“About what?”
I look her in the eye. “You.”
A hint of confusion crosses her pink face. “How do you mean?” she asks.
“Kyle. VanHouten.” I don’t blink. “It won’t make any difference to all the things I want to do to you.”
Her breath catches in her throat.
I reach for her hand, turning it up to guide my own again as I slowly rest my palm on her left cheek. “When does your husband get home?” I ask.
“Late,” she answers.
“Seems lonely...”
I run my thumb along her lips and she shivers under my touch.
“He stays out late... to avoid me,” she says. “He barely even looks at me.”
“Does he touch you?”
She shakes her head once as she moves my hand along her neck. “Not like this,” she says.
I kiss the edge of her mouth, struggling to hold back my desire for her.
“I used to think that he blamed himself,” she says. “I asked him to go to therapy with me. We’d get through it together, I said. I wanted to get through it... together.” She closes her eyes. “But he never blamed himself at all. Turns out, I was just damaged goods now.”
I flex my jaw in anger. Damaged goods. Broken, useless trash to be discarded.
Not my Kimber.
“He failed you,” I say, drawing her eyes open. “What happened to you wasn’t anyone’s fault. Least of all yours.”
“Wasn’t it?” she asks, her voice weak. “I used to call people ugly all the time. I used to treat people differently because I didn’t like the way they looked. That accident might not have been my fault but I deserve what I got.”
“That’s not true.” I draw a line along her collarbone. “And even if it is... so what?”
“So what?” she repeats.
“Yeah. So what? You’re a little rough around the edges but you’re still my dream girl. And I won’t let you feel like anything less than that. Not like him.”
Her lips form a sweet smile. “You won’t?”
I kiss her full on the mouth. “Of course, I won’t,” I whisper, looking deeper into those bright, blue eyes again.
She kisses me back. Her hand moves mine again, pushing it down to rest on her breast and I relish in the warmth of her body as it leans into mine.
It’s right where we left off before. Breathless and wild but not as nervous. When she kisses me back, I feel her begging lips pulling me back in for another one. I feel the need in every word she says; in every touch and taste.
Kimber turns her head down, breaking our kiss as she takes a breath. “Nate...”
“Yes?”
She moves my hand from her breast and pushes it farther down her body. I bite down as I imagine what’s waiting for me underneath. I think she’s going to stop but she keeps going, leaving my hand at the button of her jeans.
“Put your hands on me,” she whispers.
She pops the button free and guides my fingers to her zipper.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
She nods and kisses me again. “Please,” she begs into my mouth.
I don’t ask twice. I don’t say no or remind her of her marital status.
I do it. I take what I’ve always wanted. What she’s so eager to give me.
“Where’s the bedroom?” I ask.
“Upstairs,” she answers, completely breathless.
I slip my tongue into her mouth and hers trembles against it. “I want to take you upstairs,” I say. “I want to make you remember what a real man feels like.”
Kimber takes a step back, pulling me upward with her. We don’t make it two steps before she loses her balance and she tumbles to a sitting position, the same silly laugh in her throat as before. I go down with her, pinning her to the stairs, our mouths barely parting for more than a second.
I open the zipper on her jeans. She moans for more and I slide my hand inside, fingers touching soft cotton. Her grip tightens on my arms and her eyes quiver in sweet anticipation.
“I’m going to do things to you,” I whisper in her ear. “Things your husband won’t do anymore. And I’m going to start by fucking you senseless in his own bed.”
Kimber’s eyes open wide, reacting to the words.
I brace myself for the possible no on her breath.
Just one word and I’ll back off. I’ll leave.
I’ll never tell anyone what could have happene
d.
She can go back to being Kimber VanHouten and I’ll…
I’ll just be the milkman.
Seventeen
Kimber
My God, what am I doing?
Nate hovers over me, his hand burrowed in my jeans. Wooden stairs dig into my spine. Every part of me buzzes with warm blood. The room sways around us with a serene, dream-like quality, almost as if none of this is real at all. As if I’m seeing him through another woman’s eyes because surely this isn’t me.
I never thought I could be this woman. I never knew how badly I could want to be.
He lingers here. It’s hesitant, in a way. Like he’s giving me a way out. Does he want me to take it?
I could take it. It’s not too late. An understanding husband might forgive a kiss between old acquaintances. A moment of weakness is just that: a moment. To go upstairs with Nate now would be a choice. I could choose to abandon this and save my marriage.
If my marriage is even worth saving at all. I’ve told Curtis what I need. He’s rejected me.
But Nate hasn’t. He sees more to me than just my scars. When he says I’m beautiful, I believe him. I know he’s not lying when he says he wants me.
I grip his shirt and pull him closer, quickly locking our lips together. His shirt untucks from his jeans and I shiver as my hands touch his skin beneath it.
Nate sighs, relaxing into me and his hand crawls upward. He kisses me back as he slides into my panties, fingers slowly aiming for my throbbing clit.
“Talk to me,” I say again, smiling.
Nate grins. “I want you,” he whispers, his lips grazing my cheek.
I spread my thighs, letting his fingers slip between my folds. My core twitches with pleasure as he lays a finger beside my clit.
“I want you to come for me,” he says.
I shudder as lightning fires up my back. “Yes,” I say, a moan on my tongue.
He leaves a line of kisses down my jawline and drops to my neck. “I want to taste you...”
I stiffen but I hate it. I want this so badly. I want him to rip my clothes off and have his way with me but I’m…
Nate raises his head, sensing my shift. “Kimber?”
I cover my face with my hands.
Christ, what am I thinking?
Why did I think I could do this; that I was ready to open myself to someone new.
