Sex Becomes Her

by Regina Cole

  Chandler adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder. “Looks like you’re in the D Terminal.”

  “And you?”

  He gave her a rueful half smile. “A Terminal.”

  She didn’t answer, just looked at him. Why was this so hard? She hadn’t known him long enough to be so strongly attached. They weren’t in love; they weren’t even in a relationship. They’d fucked a ton, yeah, but casual sex was a thing, right? Eliza coughed, trying to clear the lump in her throat. Damn it, this wasn’t happening to her.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Sure,” she croaked, a hand at her throat as she waved him away with the other. “I’m good. Just swallowed my tongue or something.”

  “I thought that was my job.”

  She smiled, but he went curiously wavy. What was up with that? She blinked, and his outline didn’t clear.

  His smile faded and he stepped close to her, wrapping her in his arms.

  “Come on, Liza, don’t cry.”

  “I’m not. Don’t be stupid,” she sniffed, squeezing her eyes shut tight as she buried her face in his chest. “Why would I be crying? That’s insane.”

  He ran his fingers through her hair, pressed his lips to the top of her head, and just held her there for long moments. She wasn’t crying. She wasn’t. That wet spot on his shirt had to be from some spilled coffee or something. It had nothing to do with the fact that she couldn’t breathe without making little sobbing hiccup noises.

  Ridiculous. She was completely ridiculous.

  “You need to hurry,” Chandler said in a soft voice. “Your flight will be boarding soon.”

  “I don’t care.” He probably couldn’t understand her, because she’d said the words straight into his chest, but right now she didn’t give a good damn. All she wanted was to stay right there in that spot with his arms around her.

  “I can come with you.”

  Her heart jumped inside her chest and she jerked back to look at him. “What?”

  “To your terminal. See you off? I’ve got a little while before I’ve got to board my flight.”

  It was unreal how disappointed those words made her. For a moment she’d dared to imagine Chandler coming home with her. Snuggling against his chest again, Eliza shook her head. “No, I can’t walk on the plane with you there watching.”

  “Hey,” he whispered against her head. “You’ve got my cell number, you’ve got my e-mail. Text me. Call me. Write me. Send me stupid pictures and corny jokes. I’m not far away. And as soon as I get home, I’ll check my work calendar and book the flight out to see you for Christmas. We can hang out in your cute little small town, and you can show me that main street that you love so much. Okay?”

  She just nodded. What else could she do? She was an idiot, an overemotional moron. It was like leaving summer camp when she was ten. She’d had the best time of her life there, had made new friends, and when the bus had pulled away she’d spent the whole four-hour drive home crying like a baby. And she hadn’t kept in contact with anyone. They’d traded addresses, and she’d sent letters, but her so-called friends had never written back. So was it any wonder she was squeezing Chandler like this was the last time she’d ever have the chance to?

  She turned her head to the side, pressing her cheek against his heart. “Will you call me?”

  “Of course.” His voice was extra deep with her on his chest. “As often as you want.”

  “And you’re really coming for Christmas.”

  “I swear. I can probably stay for two weeks, if that’s what you want.”

  Her heart leapt and she looked up at him. “Really? Promise?”

  He nodded and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Swear. We’ll decorate a tree and find some mistletoe and everything.”

  “I—” She stopped. What had she been about to say? She didn’t know, but whatever it was, she couldn’t do it. So she settled for something close. “I’ll miss you.”

  Chandler bent down and kissed her, desperately, passionately. She tasted her own tears, her hands digging into his shoulders like she could imprint his whole being into her memory. If only.

  When he pulled away, his own eyes looked curiously misty.

  “I’m going to miss you, too, Eliza Jackson. Now get your adorable ass on that plane, or I’ll have to drag you to the Banks with me.”

  “Worse things could happen,” she joked, but stepped away. Her body felt curiously cold without his touch to warm her. She backed away, step after step, widening the gap between them.

  “Take care of yourself,” Chandler said, his gaze never leaving hers.

  “You, too.”

  Before she lost her nerve, she turned and walked away as quickly as she could stand it. Hopefully he didn’t hear the sob that escaped her before she stuffed her fist against her mouth.

  This was stupid. She was stupid. But damn, was she glad for his promise to see her at Christmas. It was the only way she was able to convince herself to leave him now.

  Way over her head. That’s how far she was in.

  Chandler stood in front of the bank of monitors, watching until she’d disappeared down the hallway, hidden by the milling bodies.

  That was unexpected. He’d known that he’d have a hard time saying good-bye to her, but he hadn’t expected tears from Eliza. After all, she’d been switching from hot to cold very frequently over the past few days with him. Could her attachment to him be scaring her? Was she just nervous at what was growing between them?

  It appeared so, but Chandler didn’t exactly trust his own intuition where beautiful women were concerned anymore.

  “Excuse me,” a young guy said as he approached the board. “Can you move over? I can’t see my flight number.”

  “Oh yeah, sorry.” Chandler gave the guy an apologetic wave and walked in the direction of his gate. It might be for the best that they weren’t sharing a plane out of here. He might be tempted to jump into her suitcase and follow her straight home.

  Damn. He had it bad. Shaking his head, Chandler ducked into the convenient mart beside gate A-22. Grabbing a granola bar and a fruit juice, he prepared himself to wait the two hours for his flight to board.

  So he was a little early. It was worth it to have gotten the extra time with her.

  He settled in at his mostly empty gate and crunched his granola bar thoughtfully. It had been an eventful week. His cousin was hitched, he’d delved into some light bondage, and he thought he might finally be getting over the whole divorce thing.

  Chandler smiled as he crumpled the empty granola wrapper. Yup, definitely a good week.

  He pulled his MacBook from his bag and flipped open the screen. There were probably a good number of work things that needed his attention. He employed an administrative assistant, but she’d had the week off, too. So the company e-mail was probably full to bursting, despite the out-of-office message on the website and the in-box.

  Oh well. Such was the joy of owning his own business.

  He hovered the cursor above his e-mail application, but before he could click it and get started, he changed his mind. He couldn’t think about work right now. There was only one person he wanted to think about.

  “Let’s see, flights to Ohio.”

  He frowned at the screen. She’d mentioned what town she lived in, but what airport was closest? He contemplated texting her, but when he checked his phone he realized that her flight was more than likely taking off right now. He’d have to Google to find out.

  His browser took a moment to open, and before he could think about what he was doing, he typed “Eliza Jackson Appledale, Ohio.”

  Four pages of results. The first was a LinkedIn profile, and he clicked it.

  “Quality Testing.” Her current employer was listed. His analytical brain kicked into gear without his permission.

  Wandering through Google, he picked up threads of her life, her town, her surroundings. She’d won three science fairs in a row during high school. Scholarship to Ohio State University
. Graduated with honors.

  As he closed out a newspaper article about her promotion to supervisor at Quality Testing, he found himself wondering. She loved Appledale, loved her job, too. But there was something in Eliza’s past that made her feel unwelcome in her hometown. That made her feel like a monster. So why wasn’t he finding anything about that?

  “You know you’re desperate when you hit the fifth page of Google results,” he muttered beneath his breath as he forged on. And there, buried three-quarters of the way down the page, was a hit from a blog post. “Appledale Tales and Rumors.” The post title was “Chemist brings filthy bedroom habits to Appledale.”

  Chandler clicked the link, but before he could start reading the blog post, his cell phone buzzed in his pocket. Jumping guiltily, he slammed the lid of his laptop and pulled the phone free.

  The text was from Eliza.

  Hey, you. :)

  His heart thumped harder, but not from excitement. It was guilt. Damn it, he was breaking his own rules. Eliza’s story was her own, and he had no reason to go searching behind her back. His personal moral code was broken, and he had no one to blame but himself. So he opened his computer, closed out the browser without reading any more of the words on the screen, and put the laptop back in his bag before replying to her.

  Hi yourself. Is your flight delayed?

  Three little dots on his smartphone screen indicated she was typing back to him already. Those little dots made him inexplicably happy, for some reason.

  Nope. There’s free wifi on this flight. So I can text you. Don’t you feel lucky?

  He smiled.

  The luckiest. Question, what airport should I fly into for our Christmas fun?

  Another passenger sank into the seat beside Chandler, but he didn’t pay her much attention. He was waiting for Eliza’s response. Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long.

  Cincinnati/Northern Kentucky International is closest. Only about an hour’s drive from my house.

  Then that’s where I’ll fly. I’ll book my trip tonight.

  Can’t wait.

  She put a little smiley face emoticon with its tongue sticking out after that. He could picture her making that face. Damn it, he was really taking this much too far.

  “Will passengers here for flight 1231 with service to Dallas please come to the courtesy desk? Anyone here for flight 1231 to Dallas.”

  Chandler looked up. That was his flight number. So he fired off a quick message to Eliza to let her know he’d be tied up for a few, and then he lined up behind an elderly man at the desk. Then he looked over to where he’d been sitting.

  The woman who’d picked the chair next to him, despite there being several empty seats spread through the area, was completely gorgeous. Tall and willowy, with a creamy complexion and deep reddish-brown hair. She gave him a smile, her eyes saying something to him that he thought he could understand.

  But he only gave her a polite nod and turned away.

  A week or two ago, he’d have been thrilled to talk to a gorgeous stranger in an airport. Hell, a week ago, he had talked to a gorgeous stranger in an airport. But now? He couldn’t think of any woman but Eliza.

  He had it bad, that was for sure.

  Once he’d spoken with the desk attendant and secured a free upgrade, he found another seat and sent Eliza another quick text.

  I’m sitting in first class all the way to DFW. Feel free to envy me.

  Are you KIDDING? You suck. I’m stuck by the bathroom, and there’s an angry toddler across the aisle from me. I think she’s trying to pelt me with Cheerios.

  Chandler snorted aloud. Eliza was almost at her most attractive when she was irritated. He wished he could see her now.

  It won’t be long now.

  It’s already too long. Too far away from you. I miss you.

  His chest squeezed, and he put the phone down for a minute. There was a crowd around him now, the time having slipped away from him. Like the whole week had. Too much time was moving too quickly for him. But that was part of what made Eliza special. His whole world seemed to fly by, happier and better for the fact that she’d been in it with him.

  It was a heady feeling. And the memory of her in bed with him took that over the top. He’d have to think of some ways to keep things going during the few weeks they’d be separated.

  I miss you, too, he typed back. But don’t worry, I’m not going to let you forget me in the meantime. I’ve got some tricks up my sleeve.

  It took her no time to fire off a response.

  Tricks? Like what?

  He grinned evilly.

  You’ll just have to see. Oops, they’re calling my section. Talk to you soon.

  Chandler, pleeeeease tell me.

  Shutting off the screen, he tucked the phone in his pocket and lined up to get on the plane. Her anticipation was going to be part of the fun. As far as the other part, well, she’d have to wait to see. But he was fairly certain that they’d both enjoy the hell out of it.

  21

  Three weeks later, Eliza bent low, goggles level with the countertop. Her hand was steady as she added acid to the beaker. Nothing would explode if she screwed up these measurements, but she didn’t want to have to repeat this test if she didn’t have to.

  Her hand was steady as she piped another drop into the glass container. The clear liquid waved, then settled exactly on the line.

  “Yes,” she whispered as she straightened. “Perfect.”

  Humming to herself, she capped the hydrochloric acid and set it inside the cabinet. Just a few more preparations to make, then she could set the high performance liquid chromatograph instrument and leave it running for the weekend. Lacing her fingers together, Eliza stretched toward the ceiling, letting out a low groan as her spine crackled like breakfast cereal. She needed to invest in better shoes if the company expected her to keep testing at this rate.

  Here at the office, she could pretend that things were normal. That her little escapade on a beautiful island hadn’t happened. That Chandler was only a beautiful dream that she’d had to wake up from. It was easier than remembering that he was there in the world, far away from her reality.

  “Hey, Jackson, the nineties called. They want their grunge look back.”

  Her arms dropped, hands instinctively covering the ragged hem of her Green Day tee. Fighting the rush of hot blood in her cheeks, Eliza glared at the doorway to her lab. Her boss/ex, Tyler Hagans, stood there, a self-satisfied smirk on his chiseled face.

  “Tell Schweitzer to be more careful pouring acids and then maybe my clothes won’t look like Swiss cheese.” Eliza wasn’t afraid to snap back, but she kept her eyes locked on the scarred black surface of her worktable as she did. “Maybe you guys could try hiring some chemists with experience instead of these clueless college kids.”

  Tyler clicked his tongue as he sauntered into the room. Hands shaking, Eliza continued with her test. Tyler made the room feel small. He always had, even when he and Eliza were dating. It used to be a good feeling, a comforting one. Now it made her want to run.

  “Quality Testing took a chance on you when you were a green college kid, and look at you now. Only twenty-six and already a supervisor. Don’t these other kids deserve a chance?”

  She didn’t bother to answer. The acid hissed and popped as Eliza poured it into the half-full testing vessel, much faster than she should have. Tyler moved back a step, frantically wiping at his unblemished jacket sleeve.

  “Easy there, you’re going to wreck my suit. This is Armani, you know.”

  “Did you need something, Tyler? I know you didn’t come in here for a social visit. It’s not like you want to be caught dead talking to me.” She wished she could bite back the words, but instead she turned away and yanked open the instrument door. Looking busy was her only defense against the asshole. If Chandler were here—No, this was her problem, and Chandler knowing Tyler’s stories would just make everything worse.

  “Yeah, I did.” Tyler rounded her worktable
and stopped only a foot in front of her. Marshaling her courage, she tilted her chin and looked him straight in the eye. She knew that tone of voice, and it usually meant an insult was coming.

  “So, spit it out.” Crossing her arms, Eliza concentrated on keeping her breathing steady even as her shoulders tensed in preparation.

  “Dad just went through a bunch of applications and he’s down to two that he likes to fill that gap in the agriculture department.”

  “So?”

  “They’re both women.” Tyler moved a step closer, the overpowering smell of his cologne clogging Eliza’s nostrils. “You know the new office policy on dating, so I hope I can count on you to stay away from them.”

  The cold wave of hurt washed over her, but she didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing it. “I’m not gay, Tyler.”

  His laugh was full of cruel bitterness. “I think we both know better than that.”

  She tightened her fists so hard her knuckles cracked. “You’re purposefully misunderstanding what I was asking for. And anyway, can we leave our past relationship out of work, please? You’ve already told the world what you think of me, and most of them agree with you now.”

  Tyler’s mouth twisted in a mocking smile. “I’m not the one who turned out to be a freak, Liza. Now just promise me you’ll let the new girl get settled in before you break out your whips and chains.”

  The urge to knee him in the groin was strong, but Eliza didn’t do it. She couldn’t afford to lose her job. As lovely as it would be to turn tail and run for North Carolina and the safety that Chandler offered, she refused to be run off like a stray dog. This was her home, and damn Tyler for ruining it.