by Jewel E. Ann
“No worries.” She smiles, securing a firm grip on her hot drink as the train jerks to a start.
“I wasn’t thinking anything.” I chuckle.
“You were thinking I was going to owe you another new shirt. Your eyes say it all. It must be a Konrad family trait because your brother’s eyes don’t lie.”
“Well, you’re wrong. I was actually wondering what you eat when you’re not sucking down caffeine and sugar.”
“If that’s your sneaky way of asking me to dinner, then I’ll stop you right now.”
Glancing over her head I shake mine, rolling my eyes. “I’m not asking you to dinner or looking for a date. I was just making conversation.”
“Good, because I don’t date.”
I shrug. “Neither do I.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
“Fine.”
“Fine,” I say back as we approach my stop. “Well, see you around.”
She nods.
“Indian!” I hear her call as I maneuver my way to the doors.
I glance back.
She lifts her shoulders with a goofy grin beaming across her face. “Since you wondered … I like Indian food.”
“Me too.” I match her grin and jump off as the doors start to shut.
Chapter Three
A Nun’s Life
Vivian
3 Years Earlier
“We don’t have to,” Kai reassures me.
“I know. Don’t you want to?”
“Yeah, of course I do … I just, you know … I don’t want to hurt you.”
I slip off my sundress and wait for him to make the next move. His eyes explore my body and I feel it. Desire. I didn’t know if I would feel it, if I even could, but Kai wants me and when he pushes down his shorts exposing his tented briefs, my hopes are confirmed.
“Are you sure your parents won’t be home until later?” he whispers as if there’s someone else in the house.
“I’m sure. Besides, I’ll be nineteen in another month. What could they possibly do to me?”
Kai nods, shrugging off his shirt. He’s the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome with his olive skin, dark brown hair, hazel eyes, and muscles defined from relentless laps in the pool. I can’t believe the boy I’ve known since kindergarten, the one who used to call me skeleton girl because my early growth spurt made it nearly impossible to keep an ounce of fat on my body, stands before me ready to take my virginity.
It’s taken twelve years for our friendship to blossom into something beautiful. There have been a spectrum of emotions and drama between us. But after years of choosing every girl except me, it’s finally my turn. Kai wants to be with me, not as a friend, but a lover. I push back the thoughts of his jealousy. Whether I need it or not, I don’t want to be reminded that he chose me after I showed interest in someone else. A little competition is good. It’s what he needed to see, the only girl for him has been by his side all along.
My legs shake as I step closer to him. I rest my hands on his bare chest, and he weaves his fingers through my hair. Our lips connect and a silent chill ripples through me as my skin tightens, erupting with goose bumps. We’ve been intimate in every way except having sex. My hand makes the familiar journey along his stomach, slipping under his briefs. He moans into my mouth as I stroke him. I love how firm he gets for me.
Kai moves his hands to my shoulders, gently pushing me down. Freeing him from his briefs, I take him in my mouth like I’ve done so many times before. His head falls back as he sucks in a tight breath. We’ve done this, and as much as I like pleasing him, I want more. I want to feel him inside of me. I want him to take what I’ve saved just for him.
“Kai?” I release him with my mouth but continue to stroke him with my hand.
“Don’t stop, baby.”
“Kai, I want more.” I stand, reaching behind to unclasp my bra. As it falls to the floor, I watch his eyes. “Touch me.”
Kai’s never given me an orgasm. I want that to change tonight. Maybe if there are no boundaries, he’ll take his time with me. Our intimacy usually ends as soon as he’s had his release. Maybe the feeling of him penetrating me will allow me to let go of my own pleasure.
“Please, Kai, touch me.”
He’s still. I slide down my panties, step out of them, and take his hand. As I turn to lead him to my bed, I hear his breath catch in his throat and his grip on my hand tightens. I shouldn’t look back, because I know what I’ll see and it will crush me.
My body deceives me. Turning my head, I see it. Pity.
“Kai?”
“Viv…” he shakes his head “…I’m so sorry. Does it hurt?”
Yanking my hand from his, I sigh. “No, it doesn’t hurt! What hurts is the look in your eyes. Jeez, Kai, you’ve touched it before!”
“I know, it’s just … this is the first time I’ve … seen all of it. I didn’t think it’d look so …”
“So what? So gross? So disgusting? So deformed? What, Kai? Tell me!”
Tears swell in his eyes.
“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare cry!”
“I’m sorry, Viv. Maybe we should wait—”
“No.” I pull my hair over my shoulder so he has an unobstructed view of my back. “Take a good long look because this is the last time you’ll see it. The last time I’m going to put up with that pathetic pity in your eyes.”
“Viv, don’t.”
I grab my dress and slip it back on.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“I’m taking my virginity and what’s left of my pride as far away from you as possible. Hell, I’m taking my freakin’ virginity to my grave someday!”
“Vivian!”
“Take your sorry ass someplace else. I’m not going to be part of your pity party. Not now, not ever! I can’t change what happened and neither can you. Your incessant apologies have been eating me alive, but that look … you gutted me with that ONE! Single. Look.”
*
Present Day
“Kate’s leaving for Italy with her parents in the morning. I’m yours for a month.” Kai swaggers in the house and plunks himself down on the couch.
“It’s laughable that you think I want to hang out with your boring ass for the next month. And come on in, by the way, have a seat, make yourself at home.”
He laughs while propping his feet up on the coffee table. “Thanks, I think I will. Why don’t you grab me a beer?”
“Get it yourself, bitch.” I smack his feet off the table. “It’s been a long day. I just want to fall into bed not babysit you. What are all your frat boys doing tonight?”
“Vacationing or getting laid.”
“Who’s vacationing or getting laid?” Alex asks, tossing her bag by the door.
“Apparently, everyone but Kai.” I give him a gleam of devilry.
“And Viv.” He smirks back.
Harnessing all the maturity I can find, I stick my tongue out at him. “Who put you in charge of my hymen? Maybe I’ve already gotten laid. It’s not like I’d send out a text or anything.”
Kai rolls his eyes.
“Flower, is there something you’re not telling me?” Alex raises a single brow.
“No, there’s nothing she’s keeping from you. Trust me, if there were, she sure as shit wouldn’t let you call her that damn nickname!”
I walk toward the front door, smacking Kai on the back of the head. “Don’t be so sure.”
“Hey, where are you going?” Kai jumps up ready to follow me like the lost puppy he’ll be for the next month.
“I need tampons, but I’d love the company.”
He collapses back down on the couch with a dragged-his-blanket-in-the-dirt look. “I think I’ll stay with Alex.”
“I’m just grabbing some clean clothes and heading back to Sean’s. Sorry, Kai Pie.” Alex sticks out her pouty lower lip as she passes him to go upstairs.
Kai grabs his bag and follows me out the door. “You know the only n
ame I hate more than Flower is Kai Pie. Pencil me in for dinner tomorrow.”
I waltz off in the opposite direction. “Sorry, I’m busy.”
“See you at seven,” he yells.
I amble around the block and head back inside. The tampons were a decoy. I needed to ditch Kai for the night. As much as I love my best friend, he’s still selfish and needy, especially when Kate is gone. I’m not ruling out dinner tomorrow, but tonight I don’t have the energy or patience to deal with my clingy friend.
“For someone who’s known you for nearly sixteen years, I find it ironic that he doesn’t know you stock tampons like survivors of the depression stock food.” Alex laughs, grabbing a bottle of wine out of the fridge.
I lean against the kitchen island. “I’m a terrible friend aren’t I?”
Alex hugs me. “Not to me, Flower.”
“I’m hungry and tired.”
“Then eat and sleep. I’ll see you Sunday.” Alex snatches her bag and gives me a wink.
My hunger can wait. Pulling my canvas bag out of the entry closet, I head out front and sit on the steps. This isn’t my usual location, but now I have this desire to people watch. Okay, maybe person watch. Pulling out my ball of yarn and needles, I resume my recent knitting project: mittens. I took up knitting after I declared to keep my virginity indefinitely. It’s not sexy, but it keeps me focused, and I like the euphoria I get from completing a project. My family and friends are usually the lucky recipients of my crafty work. My dad said he felt like an eighty-year-old man when I gave him a blanket for Christmas, but I know he uses it to keep warm while he lounges in his leather recliner watching his Giants play.
Minutes morph into hours and it’s nearly too dark to see what I’m doing. I’m sure I’ve dropped more than one stitch. Just as a twinge of disappointment hits me, I see Oliver. He’s getting out of a black BMW in front of his condo. Yes, I’ve been waiting hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but now that he’s here I feel ridiculous. As he looks in my direction, I drop my head back to my project.
A rapturous buzz seizes my nerves as he nears.
“I’m not sure what’s most odd about this situation.”
I glance up with owl eyes as if I’m really surprised to see him. “Excuse me?”
He sits down beside me as I shove my yarn back into the bag. His clean pine and sandalwood scent wafts near my nose, and in spite of the cool breeze that’s crept in over the past hour, my skin flushes with heat from his close proximity.
“I wouldn’t have taken you for a knitter.”
I shrug. “A lot of younger women knit these days. It’s therapeutic, like meditation.”
“You always knit in the dark?” He edges closer, giving me a toothy smile that pulls in those damn dimples.
“Well, um … Most of it’s by feel and it hasn’t been dark that long. I was just getting ready to go inside.” My stomach growls in angry protest; it’s a beastly noise. I squirm while my crimson face prunes.
“Whoa!” He laughs.
Hugging my arms around my stomach, I try to physically strangle it into silent submission. “I’m a little hungry. I sort of skipped dinner.” It’s possible my decision to skip dinner in favor of the late neighborhood watch shift was a teensy bit rash.
“Come on.” He stands and gestures toward his condo with his head. “I just had dinner at my parent’s house and my mom sent me home with way too many leftovers. You like Tilapia, new potatoes, and asparagus?”
A wary smile escapes. “Yes, but—”
“It’s not a date, Vivian. It’s leftovers. Nothing I haven’t done for stray animals.”
Standing tall, I cock my head to the side. “Are you implying I’m a stray animal?”
He shakes his head and offers his hand. “Come on, stop reading into everything I say.”
Staring at his hand for a brief moment, I place mine in it and let him guide me across the street. I’m trying hard not to read into the myriad of physical sensations that his touch evokes. My pulse pounds, heart gallops, and butterflies awaken in my stomach as the warmth from his hand sends a tingling sensation up my arm. Rarely do I not feel tall and lanky, like I want to slouch down to keep from standing out in a crowd, but right now I feel petite and feminine in his lofty presence. He grabs a brown bag out of the back of his car before we head inside.
“Would you like a glass of wine?” he asks while spooning out food onto a plate.
I smack my lips together. “No, I’d better not. I’m kind of a lightweight and there’s the long trip home and all …”
I love the sound of Oliver’s laugh; it’s genuine and spontaneous, like he’s trying to hold it back but can’t. “Water, then?”
“Yes, thank you.”
He sets my plate on the woven gun metal gray placemat and pulls out a chair for me.
“This is weird eating by myself. Are you just going to watch me?” My lips set into a grim line.
“Nope.”
I hear the bag rustling, then he sits down across from me with a square glass container and a spoon.
“What’s that?” I ask after swallowing a bite of the best fish I have ever tasted.
“Strawberry-rhubarb cobbler. I was full after dinner so I took my dessert to go.”
“Mmm, looks good.”
“It is. My mom is an amazing cook,” he mumbles behind a napkin while wiping his mouth.
“I’ll second that.” I gesture to the plate with my fork. “This is the best Tilapia I have ever had.”
We eat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, both of us enjoying the culinary orgasms in our mouths. I sneak nervous glances at him while he spoons bite after bite of the cobbler into his mouth, releasing a few humming sounds. Finishing the last bite on my plate, I give him my best puppy dog eyes as I notice there are only a few bites left of the cobbler.
He grins. “Looks like you enjoyed it.”
“Yes, it was very good.”
He nods. “God, this cobbler is amazing. It’s still warm, too.”
“It must be good, you’re really hogging it down.” My comment comes out a little harsher than I intend.
He scoops up the last big bite and lets it hang in the air a few inches from his mouth.
My eyes tighten as I glare at him.
“Oh … did you want to try a bite?” he asks with a devilish smirk.
“No, that’s fine. It’s yours not mine.” I scoot my plate to the side and rest my elbows on the table.
He shrugs. “Okay, then.”
Never before have my eyes felt so close to popping out of their sockets. My mouth falls open as I gasp. “Oh my God! I can’t believe you ate the last bite!”
Oliver’s brow tenses as he inches the spoon out of his mouth wiping it clean with the tight seal of his lips. “What? I just asked you if—”
“I may have said no with my mouth, but my eyes were begging you for just one bite! Jeez, you can’t go on and on about how good it is and make those ridiculous sounds and not think that maybe I might want one little taste!”
His laughter cracks through the air and I fight my impending grin.
“Here.” He shoves the container in my direction. “You can lick the bowl.”
I roll my eyes. “Like I’m really gonna lick the bowl.”
“Suit yourself.”
He reaches for the bowl, but I snag it and pull it closer to me, wasting no time swiping my finger inside and sucking it off with my own heavenly moan.
“My God! You sure are a handful, woman.” He scoots back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest watching me clean the bowl like a starved animal.
I flip the switch as if I didn’t bite his head off two seconds ago. “So can you cook?”
His gaze stays on my mouth and he looks like he’s starving too, but not for food. It’s the same look he had at the doughnut shop. I’m not sure why he gets so captivated watching me eat. Weird.
He clears his throat and takes a deep swallow. “Yes, I can cook. My mom made sure
both Chance and I could cook, do laundry, and sew on a button.”
“Wow, had I known all this time what a great catch your brother is, I might not have shot him down so many times.”
“Says the girl who doesn’t date.”
“Says the guy who doesn’t date.”
“Touché, Vivian.”
“So do you have dinner with your parents often?”
He nods. “Once a week since I moved back from Portland.”
I tap my fingernail on the table. “Maine?”
“Oregon.”
“Oh, how long did you live there?”
He purses his lips to the side. “Three years.”
“Why’d you move there?”
He clears his throat, diverting his gaze while adjusting his sitting position. “I took a job with a law firm there.”
Digging my teeth into the corner of my bottom lip, I wait for his eyes to meet mine. “I’m being nosy, I apologize.”
Oliver stands and grabs our dishes, clinking them together with wavering control. I sense it’s time for me to leave so I stand and follow him to the kitchen.
“Well, thanks for dinner. I feel like a mooch. Tell your mother it was wonderful … or not. It’s possible you might not want her to know you fed her leftovers to stray neighbors.”
His back is to me, hands pressed against the counter and head bowed. The air feels thick, almost suffocating. This isn’t how I saw the night ending.
“Okay … so I’ll just––”
“Stay.”
I’m not sure I heard him, so I wait for confirmation. My inner voice chastises me for not acknowledging the absurdity of this situation. I’m drawn to this man and I can’t give him what other women can, but every look, touch, and soft laugh makes it difficult to not want him. Maybe, just maybe he could be what I need––a relationship based on emotions without the need for physical gratification.
*
Oliver
My mind said “go” but my mouth said “stay.” Vivian has this innocence to her that is not of this world, and when I’m with her neither am I. We’re transported to some alternate universe where the past doesn’t exist and the future doesn’t matter. I need her to leave because I don’t trust myself around her. The hunger I feel for her touch is painful. When she placed her hand in mine I had to fight every urge to throw her in the backseat of my car, strip off her clothes, and taste every inch of her body. It’s possible I should be on meds or maybe I do need therapy. I wasn’t like this before. It’s just her, but I don’t know why. Yes, she’s beautiful—stunning actually—but it’s more and I don’t have a word for the more.
