by Logan Chance
By table…she means bed. It’s a full on bed. Well, more so than the normal doctor’s exam table.
With one hand, I tug at the back of the neckline and pull the material over my head. Her eyes drift up from the chart and skim over my chest, down to my abs, and back up.
“Nice tattoo,” she says, referring to the eagle inked over my heart.
Tossing the t-shirt on a chair along the wall, I turn around to get on the ‘table’ and shift trying to get comfortable. “Thanks.”
“I need you on your stomach,” she says, with a low sultriness I never noticed before in her voice.
“Oh, sorry.” I flip over to my stomach and try to relax.
“Today, I’m just going to start with a deep tissue massage of your neck, shoulders, and back. Just relax and enjoy.”
She presses play on some light music, and I close my eyes. Her lotioned-hands make contact with my skin, and my heart tumbles into a lost abyss inside my soul. Her hands are magical, kneading into my muscles with the perfect amount of pressure. She was made for this.
The song whispers memories of dancing with a lost love, and I relax. My eyes stay shut through the whole massage, but my heart beats a slow steady rhythm.
My mind drifts back to our senior year, just at the last hour of prom. I went with some girl…Heather, or maybe Holly. Either way, I was having a horrible time. Lizzy showed up with some jackass from band. I think he played the trombone or something.
I already knew I’d be signing up for the military right after graduation, and Lizzy wasn’t happy about me going away.
She found me outside, while I waited for my date to say goodbye to everyone in the school. I leaned against my father’s Ford Taurus, checking the doors every time they opened, hoping my date would finally be ready to go to the after party we were invited to.
The doors opened, only it wasn’t Heather, it was her…Lizard.
I laughed as she made her way toward me. “Where’s Mr. Seventy-Six Trombones?”
She smiled. “Oh, you know, he’s off leading the big parade somewhere.”
She moved closer, inching her hand closer to my chest. “Ryan,” she whispered.
“Yeah, what’s wrong?”
Her hand landed on my chest, and I glanced down to gaze into her soft brown eyes. “Promise me you won’t lose contact with me when you leave. Promise me you’ll stay safe and come home.” Tears welled in her eyes, and I wiped a stray water droplet as it raced down her cheek.
“Lizard, I promise. You’re my best friend. It’s me and you forever.”
Only problem is, I didn’t keep my promise to her. I never wrote her, called her…nothing. I’ve been back for three months and never looked her up. I wanted to, but sometimes life gets in the way.
My body warms as her hands roam over my skin, and all the blood rushes to my cock. Fuck. Hard is not what I want to be right now, but her hands are creating the perfect amount of friction, and, well, it’s turning me on. She slides her hands over my shoulders and a moan escapes. Shit.
I shouldn’t be reacting this way. Her hands pause for the briefest of seconds before she continues working my muscles into oblivion and sighs. “You never even wrote to me, Ryan,” she says over the soft music.
I lift my head from the oval cutout where it was wedged. “What?” I sit up, without thinking, gazing up at her.
“You promised you wouldn’t lose touch, but you did.”
I will my hard on to go away, and grab both her hands, rubbing my thumbs across her soft skin. “Lizzy, I’m so so so sorry. It was hell over there. I was in a strange mindset. And, well, I wanted to write you many times. But, one week turned into two, and after a while, I didn’t know what to say.”
She slaps my good shoulder, wiping a tear threatening to fall. “I missed you. Now lie back down.”
“I missed you, too.”
I lie back down, thanking God, she didn’t notice my hard dick.
“I want us to be friends again,” she says. You were always the one person I could always count on, Ryan.”
Any thoughts of ever getting Lizzy naked, screaming my name, die right here in the office. Because I want to be the friend she can count on again. “I want that too.” I smile, and resist the urge to take her in my arms once again.
She pushes me back down on the table and finishes off my massage with no happy ending. After my appointment, I make plans to hang out with her later to catch up over dinner and a movie.
4
Lizard
Once best friends, now strangers with memories.
His dick is huge. It’s not unusual for patients to get lost in the sensations of a massage. It’s happened plenty, but it took everything in me to remain professional and not gawk. It was a miracle I kept my eyes trained on his. “Hey, Lex, you home?” I call out, hanging my purse on the hook by the door.
She raises her hand from the couch, and I flick on the overhead light in the living room. “Over here,” she says.
“What are you doing sitting in the dark?” I ask as I plop onto the sofa beside her.
“Thinking.”
Oh no, when Lexi gets in her “thinking” moods, I usually find any reason to hightail it right out of the house we share.
“About?”
“Wondering what my purpose is. Ever since Jared and I broke up last year, I’m just wondering if I’ll ever have sex again. It’s been quite a while.”
I wrap an arm around her tanned shoulders. “Aw, you’ll meet someone.”
Exhausted from my day, I prop my feet up on the coffee table and lean back into the sofa, closing my eyes.
“Well, I hope so. I think I’m dead down there.” She laughs.
“Oh gross. You’re crazy.”
“I’m serious. I need like a necromancer to come and resurrect my vagina back from the dead,” she says, laughing.
“Stop.” I swat at her.
“Call Anita Blake. I need some action.”
“Who’s Anita Blake?” I ask, leaning up to glimpse at her.
“The vampire hunter. She brings things back from the dead.”
“Stop. You’ll meet someone. It’s been a long time for me too. Maybe I should call Anita.” It has been a while since I’ve had sex, and all my thoughts turn to Ryan. I shouldn’t even go there.
“I was also thinking about that gorgeous guy, Ryan, from the club. Was that his name? What about hooking me up?”
I bolt upright. Did she just read my mind? “My Ryan? Uh, I mean, um, maybe. I don’t think he’d be a good fit for you.”
What’s wrong with me? I should jump at the chance to hook Ryan and Lexi up. They’re both great. But, my heart beats double time at the thought. Is it hot in here?
“Oh, ok. Well, Kayla is trying to get me to use the dating app I used for my brother, Erik. It’s how they met, remember?”
I lean back, glad the attention is off Ryan and back onto something else. Something safe. I nod as she tells me the story of Kayla and Erik meeting again. I’ve heard the story a few times before and always laugh along as she describes the big mix-up between them.
“Oh, by the way, how’s Connor? What happened the other night after the club?”
“Uh, nothing. He’s nice, but I don’t think I’m that into him.” And, I don’t think I am. From the moment Ryan walked over at the club, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. His eyes. His smile. His muscles.
Ryan has everything going for him in the looks department, and I know he has a personality to match. He has a boyish way about him—a shyness I find fascinating.
He’s perfect, really. But, I can’t think of that. I would never want to harm our friendship. A friendship we both took a lifetime to build. One that I’ll cherish forever. So, as delectable as he may be…he’s still just Cryin’ Ryan, and I’d never cross that line with him.
“What are you doing tonight?” Lexi asks, pulling me back to the present.
“Huh? Oh, I’m hanging out with Ryan tonight. We’re goi
ng to have dinner and maybe catch a movie.” I rise from the couch. “I better get ready.”
Lexi’s eyes examine me, surveying my features, and I try my best to hide any desire for my friend from her prying eyes.
“Sure. Well, you kids have fun.” She closes her eyes. “I’ll be here wallowing in self pity.”
I push on her legs, laughing. “Oh give me a break. You should call up Belinda and go out.”
“Maybe,” she answers as I trod off to my bedroom to get ready for my date with Ryan. I mean meet-up. This is not a date. Even if part of me kind of wishes it were.
Two hours later, I’m nestled in the passenger side of Ryan’s red pickup truck. The truck he’s had since high school.
“I’ve missed this truck,” I say as he turns down the street leading out to South Beach.
“Me too. Much better than the Humvees I’m used to always being in.”
“Oh, what was that like?”
He smiles, his eyes meeting mine for a split second before resting back on the road. “The Humvees? They broke down a lot. Not like my baby here.” He laughs, patting the dashboard with his hand.
I laugh along with him as we pull up to a poppin’ little bistro in the heart of the city.
“What’s up with Big Red?” he asks after we’ve been seated and gotten our drinks from the server.
My brows pull together in confusion. “Who?”
“That guy from the club the other night.”
“Well, nothing, really.” Ryan’s hazy eyes land on my mouth as I speak. “We’ve been on like one date.”
His eyes drift back to mine and he nods. The server grabs our attention, going over the specials for the evening and Ryan grins.
“We’ll have two cheeseburgers,” he glances at me, “You still like burgers, right?” I nod. “Two cheeseburgers, one no pickle or tomato, and fries.” He snaps his menu shut with affirmation and my heart skips a little beat that he remembers how I like mine. The waitress beams at him before leaving us.
“You look different,” he whispers, leaning in, his arms resting on the table.
I smile, praying it’s a compliment. “So do you.” This is my Ryan, but altered. His light brown hair that always turned golden in the Miami sun is short, buzzed closely, from the military. His familiar light moss-green eyes look more world weary, and the way they rake over my body have me suddenly feeling underdressed. Naked, actually.
“God, this is so awkward. It feels like I don’t even know you anymore.”
The waitress returns, sliding a basket of bread on the table. I’ve been to this restaurant many times and you do not get a basket of bread. My eyes narrow at the fluffy rolls and then at the wide grin she gives Ryan. He thanks her, cooly, like he was born with charm and charisma. Gone is the awkward kid I once knew. In his place, this man. This man whose biceps are as big as my head. Ok, not literally, but hmm, maybe they are. I can’t peel my eyes away from him.
Finally, I answer, “I’m still the same me.” And, I am. Nothing has changed. Not even this crush I have, apparently. Had. The crush I had.
“Ever take your telescope out anymore?”
“I haven’t in a long time.” I’m an astrology nerd. There, I’ve said it.
“Did you ever find it?”
“It?”
“The Cryin’ Lizard?” He smiles.
“Oh, I forgot about that star.”
“Well, thanks.”
I lean over, grabbing his hand. “No no no. Not like that. It was the best present anyone has ever given me.”
You guessed it. Ryan bought me a star for my sweet sixteen birthday. He named it after our nicknames. And, the Cryin’ Lizard is so well hidden in the night sky, I don’t think I’ll ever find it. “No, I’ve given up hope. Maybe one day.”
“Don’t give up. Remember what I told you? When you least expect it, you’ll find it staring back at you.”
“Yeah, I remember.” I smile, grabbing a roll. No need for the basket of flirt to go to waste.
“You would have loved Afghanistan.” I raise my eyebrows. “Well, ok, not loved. But, the stars were always out and perfect. No city lights to drown them out.”
“How was it over there?”
He leans back, crossing his arms across his broad chest. He changes the subject without answering, “So, how’s Alice?”
Unsure of why he doesn’t want to answer and not wanting to push the subject, my mood deflates. He’s had a crush on my older sister, Alice, since junior high school. I’m half excited to tell him Alice is married, but at the same time, a little sad that he may still be harboring feelings for her, and I’m about to crush his heart. I rip the band-aid. “She’s married.”
He doesn’t answer, simply takes another sip of his wine and offers a tight-lipped smile.
Finally, he speaks, softly, “Oh, that’s good.”
Something is off with him now. I’m not sure if it was the mention of his time overseas or the Alice news. Whatever it is, I feel an overwhelming need to fix it. “Old crushes die hard, huh?” I should know.
He shakes his head and sits up straighter. “No, no. It wasn’t really a crush at all. Sorry, I just don’t like talking about my time overseas.” He smiles, and I drop the subject as he glances around the restaurant. He nods his head, in the direction of an elderly couple. “What do you think their story is?” This is a game Ryan and I always played.
I swivel in my chair to gain a better look. “High school sweethearts, married young. Kids…the whole nine yards,” I say as I turn back around to face him.
He runs his hand down his face, contemplating their life story…or what he believes to be their story. “I think he was an international spy. They spent many years apart and have only recently connected. I mean look at them, Lizard,” he points in their direction, “they’re so happy to have been married for that many years.”
There it is. The nickname he’s called me since we were kids. The nail in the coffin of any fantasy I may have ever had of him liking me. I peek over my shoulder again, taking in the couple enjoying each other’s company. The older man kisses his wife’s hand. They’re happy. “I don’t know. Wouldn’t it be great, though, to have that with someone? Someone you never tire of?”
The waitress interrupts with our burgers, and after doing everything but offering to feed him, she leaves. He ponders my statement. “Yeah, I guess. What about you? Have you dated anyone seriously since I’ve been gone?”
I take a deep breath and wonder how much I should tell him. He probably doesn’t want to hear about Daniel, the loser from school, who I thought was ‘the one’ for a whole five minutes. Apparently, I was number three for him. He cheated on me with not one, but two other girls. Asshole.
Other than Daniel, there hasn’t been anything too serious.
“Nothing substantial,” I answer.
He beams bright, and it creates a warm feeling deep within.
We steer the rest of the conversation onto neutral topics, catching each other up on the last four years of our lives. He doesn’t delve into the military talk much, but he does tell me about boot camp and the torture he went through during his time there.
I tell him about school and how I graduated top of my class. We laugh over old memories, and after dinner we decide to stroll along the path down by the beach.
5
Cryin’
“Life is ten percent what happens to you, and ninety percent how you respond to it.” - Charles R. Swindoll
“Did you want to catch a movie?”
The light of the moon dances along the ocean. A soft breeze plays in her wild hair, and I turn my head to let the wind graze my face.
“I’m happy just being here,” she says.
I stick my hands in the pockets of my jeans as we walk side-by-side. Many times as teenagers we’d walk this same path.
Four years is a long time to be gone. So much has changed while I was away, the city of Miami, the shops along the shore, the local movie theatre, rest
aurants. And Lizzy.
She holds the confidence of a gorgeous woman. It’s almost intimidating. She’s accomplished so much, and what have I done? Sure, I fought for our country. Sure, I got a Purple Heart. But, sometimes I still feel like things over there were easier.
Being here, working for my father, I feel like I’m stuck in a perpetual rat race. And, I haven’t even started school. Which what’s the point?
At twenty-two, Lizzy is definitely beating me in the game of life.
We walk in silence a few blocks, and it isn’t awkward or weird. It’s one of the things I really like about her. She knows when to keep her mouth shut and not ask the questions I don’t want to answer.
She glances out to the crashing waves, just off the coast. I follow her line of sight, feeling the pull of the ocean call to me.
“You ever go out anymore?” I ask her.
She crosses her arms back and forth in the air, signaling no. “Never ever again. I could never learn it good enough.”
“Oh, come on. I used to teach you to surf every day during the summer.”
“And if you remember I was never very good at it.” She pinches my arm, and I crack a smile.
She’s right. She was never very good at surfing. “Well promise me you’ll let me give you another lesson.”
“Are you working at your dad’s surf shop still?”
I nod my head, taking one last scan of the surf. Our eyes lock, and she smiles. I feel it in my chest. It’s such a pretty sight.
“Yeah,” I answer.
She sighs. “I guess you should take me home. I have to be up early for work tomorrow.”
I smile as I turn toward the parking lot down the street. “As you wish.”
She wraps her arm into mine, and we walk back together.
When I pull into the driveway of her little cottage home, I shut off the engine, not ready to end the night. “Let me see your house.”
“Ok, come on in.” She hops down from the truck, and I follow her up to the blue, front door. When I step inside the tiny foyer and browse around, one word to describe it…eclectic.
Strange and unique in its own special way.
It’s a hodge podge of vibrant furniture: bright red couch, some kind of weird yellow chair that looks like a half bed, and a battered trunk for a coffee table. A mural of photographs fill the charcoal grey wall in front of me, creating the constellations in the night sky. Why am I suddenly finding her nerdy love of the sky so damn sexy? It makes me want to throw her down on the thick, white rug covering the hardwood floors and fuck her while she screams out the names of them.
