Clean Slate

by Heidi Champa

  “I mean… if that’s okay… I don’t want you to, you know, we don’t have to….”

  I stopped him the best way I could, with a kiss. He was breathless when I pulled away, his face flushed pink.

  “Sam, I—”

  “It’s okay, Wes. Like I said, we don’t have to.”

  I shook my head and laughed, amazed at how fast his confident demeanor was replaced with the old Sam.

  “Oh, I know we don’t have to. But I want to.”

  He looked at me, his eyebrows raised.

  “You do?” he asked.

  I leaned in close, our lips just an inch away.

  “I think you fucking me will be pretty damn perfect too,” I said in a whisper.

  He let out a breath and gave a nervous laugh. Sam kissed me on the forehead and shimmied off the bed.

  “I was hoping you’d say that. Give me a minute.”

  Sam disappeared into the bathroom, and I stretched out on the bed, pushing the extra blankets aside. When he reappeared, with a condom and lube in his hand, he paused in the doorway and stared at me.

  “God, you really are beautiful, you know that, Wes?”

  I rolled my eyes, suddenly self-conscious.

  “Still lousy at compliments, I see,” he said, sliding into bed next to me.

  “When they’re unreasonable, yes.”

  He kissed me, running his hand over my stomach.

  “You are beautiful, whether you want to believe it or not.”

  I sighed against his lips as he took my cock in hand and stroked.

  “Fine, I’m gorgeous. I’m not going to argue with you,” I said, my head hitting the pillow.

  Sam grinned, leaning his face over mine.

  “Wow, so all I need to get you to agree with me is this, huh?”

  His hand moved slowly up and down, my whole body feeling the delicious sensation.

  “Yup. Now you know my secret.”

  My back arched off the bed as Sam closed his lips around my nipple. It was the sweetest torture and over far too soon. He turned away from me, releasing my hard dick in the process, and came back with the lube in his hand.

  “I’ve been thinking about this since our first night together,” he said, his voice husky.

  “Me too. I have to say, as much as I love fucking you, I was secretly hoping you’d choose option one that night.”

  He smiled before kissing me.

  “You, looking back at me, while I pounded you.”

  I nodded, my voice suddenly gone. I watched silently as he opened the lube, his lips curled in a grin.

  “Get on your knees,” he said, his confidence clearly back.

  I felt the bed bow as he moved behind me, my elbows resting against the sheets.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting for so long, Wes.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be worth the wait….”

  My last word came out choked as one of his hands grasped my aching cock and the other went to my puckered hole, his moist fingers prying me open. My forehead came to rest on my hands, moans coming out of my mouth as he teased me, getting me ready. I started to push back against his probing fingers, my eyes pinched tight. I could hear Sam’s ragged breathing behind me, my thighs starting to shake with anticipation.

  “You ready for me, Wes?”

  “God, yes.”

  Once again, his hands left me, and I looked back at him, watching him roll on the condom he’d retrieved from the bathroom. Our eyes met and my heart flipped over. We were locked in a stare as the head of his cock entered me, a momentary shot of pain making my eyes flutter shut.

  “You okay?” he asked, suddenly still.

  His hands rubbed up and down my back, helping me to relax.

  “I’m fine. Keep going.”

  I let out a deep breath as he inched inside me, the slow slide making my body tremble. When he could go no deeper, he leaned over me, his mouth right by my ear.

  “God, so perfect.”

  Sam eased back and started to move inside me, his fingers gripping my hips. His groans grew louder, the sound driving me absolutely crazy. My senses were overloaded, my brain in danger of short-circuiting. My heart was racing, but it wasn’t just from the sex. Every move tugged at my emotions, all my defenses coming down. Every barrier I’d put up to keep Sam from getting too close to me was gone. I looked back at him, just like I’d imagined all those weeks ago. His eyes were closed, his face the picture of pleasure as he moved faster. Suddenly, his eyes opened, our gazes locking for a long moment. It was almost too much to take, the whole thing more than I ever expected.

  As much as I didn’t want to, I looked away first, unable to stand the intensity in his eyes. Sam leaned over me again, his lips brushing over the back of my neck. His hand wrapped around my cock, working in time with his thrusts. Even before he’d touched me, I was teetering close to the edge. His touch nearly undid me, but it was his words that did the honors.

  “God, Wes, I thought I’d never get this chance.”

  Before his hand reached the base of my dick, I was coming, unable to hold back another second. I cried out, his teeth sinking into the flesh of my shoulder as my pleasure rocked through me. Sam sped up his pace, his rhythm erratic, and I could tell he was close.

  “Fuck. Oh, fuck,” he said, his voice cracking as he slammed into me, nearly knocking me off my knees. His body slowed to a stop, and he collapsed on top of me, our sweaty skin sticking together.

  “Holy shit, that was amazing,” he said.

  I wanted to say something back, but I couldn’t. No words would come. Now that the moment was over, I was afraid of doing something, saying something, to ruin it. So I stayed quiet, hoping to keep things just as they were for as long as possible.

  Sam rolled away from me, giving me a kiss on the back before retreating to the bathroom. Out of nowhere, I had an urge to bolt. I sat up, but before I could go any further, Sam reappeared.

  “Hey, you okay?” he asked.

  “Sure. Yeah.”

  “Not thinking of running away, are you, Wes?” he asked as he slid onto the sheets next to me.

  “Nope.”

  I could tell he didn’t believe me. So I relented. “Fine, maybe for a minute.”

  He wrapped me in his arms, holding me tight.

  “I was kind of hoping you were over that part by now, Wes.”

  “I’m working on it. Believe me,” I said, trying to get my head around what was happening.

  My eyes fell closed for a minute, until something made them open again. I knew we’d eventually have to talk, and even though I wanted clarity, I was still scared to hash everything out. I stiffened, trying to extricate myself from his arms, but he didn’t let me go.

  “What’s going on, Wes?”

  “Nothing. It’s just getting late, that’s all.”

  He sighed, pushing me away just enough to prop himself on his elbow.

  “I thought you didn’t have any place to go.”

  I sat up, hugging my knees to my chest, staring at the wall.

  “I don’t. I mean, not really.”

  “So then what’s going on with you?” he asked.

  “Nothing. It’s just, we still haven’t really talked about what this is. About how this is all going to work,” I said, trying to sound calm.

  The room got quiet. Too quiet.

  “Wes, please look at me.”

  As much as I didn’t want to, I turned to look at him and found a smile on his face.

  “I promise, we’re going to talk all night if we have to. But right now, if it’s okay with you, I want to enjoy the fact that you’re here, in my bed. And not on your way to California. So would you do me a favor and lie down. Please?”

  It was hard to argue with him, so I didn’t. I just did as he asked and lay back down. I even let him spoon me.

  EPILOGUE

  I PULLED the last of my things from the dryer and stared out the laundry room window at the backyard. Spring had barely started, but the warm breeze
coming through the open windows was amazing. After a long, cold winter, it was nice to finally be able to see the trees coming back to life and the grass turning green. I shut the door and turned the corner to head upstairs, when I kicked something. My eyes focused on the floor, more specifically, on the framed black-and-white photo that was now in my path, leaning against the wall. It was the one that Nick had ruined during our fight, the picture of the old, broken motel sign. It had been sitting in Daniel’s basement with most of my old boxes since I’d moved in with Sam. I’d meant to get it reframed but never got around to it. I’d almost forgotten about it. I had no idea how it got to Sam’s place. Or how it got reframed with new glass. The frame was a shiny black, the mat around the edge a soft gray. It looked amazing. Just as I picked it up, Sam’s voice rang out. I looked over and saw Sam, his head poking out of the door of his home office.

  “You like it? I had it done a few weeks ago. I thought we could hang that later.”

  It was so nice of him, I didn’t have the heart to tell him what I was really thinking. So I tried to be diplomatic.

  “Um, I guess. We don’t have to hang it. I mean, it doesn’t really fit with the stuff you have. That’s why I left it at Daniel’s,” I said, suddenly nervous.

  He walked over and stood next to me, his arm draping casually over my shoulder.

  “I like it. I think it’ll look good in the living room,” he said with a grin.

  I shrugged as I set the photo down where it had been and tried to walk past him, but he didn’t let me. “We really don’t have to hang it.”

  “I know we don’t have to. I want to,” he said.

  I shook my head and rolled my eyes, heading to the bedroom two stairs at a time. Sam followed me, taking it at a much slower pace.

  “Okay, Wes, I think we should talk.”

  “Why?”

  I pulled open the drawer Sam had emptied for me, but pushed it shut again. Setting the basket on the carpet, I turned around to face him.

  “Well, it’s a couple things, really. Like the laundry,” he said, pointing to the basket.

  “What about it?”

  He strolled to me, and even though he was smiling, I was panicking.

  “I just did laundry yesterday.”

  “I know,” I said, trying to stay calm.

  “And yet, here you are, with a basket full of stuff.”

  I shrugged again, pretending not to understand what his point was.

  “Right,” I said.

  “Wes, I’ve told you a thousand times to put your stuff with ours. But you still insist on doing your own laundry. Separately.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling defensive.

  “So? What’s the big deal?”

  Sam started to walk toward the bathroom, and when I didn’t follow him, he crooked his finger and beckoned me. When I got to the door, he flipped on the light. He picked up my toothbrush, encased in plastic. I knew what he was getting at, but again I feigned ignorance.

  “What? It’s a toothbrush, Sam.”

  “Yeah, a toothbrush. In a travel case. When there’s a holder you can put it in right over there on the counter. Right next to mine.”

  I looked at the tile floor, refusing to meet his eyes. Until he put a finger under my chin and made me.

  “Uh-huh. What’s your point, Sam?”

  “My point is, Wes, you’ve been here for a while now, and your toothbrush is still in a travel case. You’re still doing your own laundry, and now you’re upset that I framed your photo and want to hang it.”

  “I’m not upset. I’m just surprised, that’s all,” I countered.

  Sam walked away and sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes on the floor.

  “Wes, stop it. Just stop it, okay?”

  I was about to say something, but I stopped myself from digging an even deeper hole. I braced myself in the bathroom doorway, thinking it best to keep my distance. We hadn’t fought since I moved in. Not really. But it seemed we were heading that way. It was the exact thing I’d gone to great pains to avoid. Now it seemed I had no choice. As I was trying to learn from my past mistakes, I decided to start out with honesty.

  “I’m sorry, Sam. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  He looked at me and shook his head.

  “I didn’t say there was anything wrong with you. Maybe we rushed the whole moving-in thing.”

  They were the words I’d been dreading since I first brought my stuff to Sam’s. After my aborted trip to California, I’d moved back into Daniel’s basement while Sam and I had taken things slowly. That summer, we’d spent a lot of time together, and I’d gotten to know Maya. I’d also gotten Clean Slate off the ground, and the business grew quicker than I expected. I went back to therapy, even though I’d told myself I never would. But it had been good for me. And for me and Sam. As fall turned into winter, Sam and I had discussed taking things to the next level, but we both agreed it wasn’t the right time. Well, Sam agreed when I’d said it was too soon. Once the stress of the holidays was over and my work craziness died down, Sam had officially asked me to move in. I’d thought of saying no again, but there had been no reason to put him off.

  I’d been living with Sam and Maya for a little over a month. I did my best to stay out of the way and tried to make as little impact as possible. It was true I took care of my own dishes and laundry and still kept most of my extra stuff at Daniel’s. Sam had cleared half his closet and dresser, but I picked my clean clothes out of the laundry basket, never actually using the space he’d made for me. I was ready to clear out at a moment’s notice. In my mind, it was the smart thing to do. After all, when things went bad, I was the one who would have to leave.

  “Maybe. It’s no problem for me to go back to Daniel’s, you know. The basement is still set up for me. He knows my track record,” I said with a chuckle. But Sam wasn’t laughing.

  “I don’t want you to go, Wes. But it seems like you do. Hell, it’s like you’re not even here most of the time. If I didn’t roll over and see you in the morning, I’d almost be convinced you didn’t live here. You act like some kind of overnight guest.”

  He wasn’t wrong, and I really had no defense that didn’t sound stupid.

  “I’m sorry, Sam.”

  “Jesus, don’t be sorry!”

  His voice made me jump. Sam almost never raised his voice. I knew I had to put an end to the conversation before things got worse. I just didn’t know how.

  “Um, well, I really don’t know what to do,” I said, afraid of admitting the truth.

  He stood up, but instead of heading toward me, he moved farther away, stopping right inside the bedroom door.

  “I think you should decide if you really want to be here, Wes.”

  He turned to go, but I didn’t want him to leave. Not yet.

  “Well, what do you want, Sam?” I asked, timidly.

  He sighed, resting his head against the doorjamb for a moment.

  “Jesus, Wes. You know what I want. I can tell you every day, but it doesn’t seem to sink in. You can keep trying to push me away, keep playing that old game, or you can really be here. Really give us a chance. You can trust me, like you say you do. I’m leaving it up to you. If you want to go, there’s the door. Lord knows, you shouldn’t have any trouble packing.”

  He stared at me for a long while, before he sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets.

  “I have to go to the office. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

  I watched, stunned, as he walked away. The front door slammed shut, and I heard his tires squeal as he left the driveway. After he was gone, I walked through the house, gathering up the few things I’d left around. When I was done, it all fit into a plastic grocery bag. It would be like I was never there. Mostly because I never let myself really be there. Like with Nick, I always had one foot out the door. So much for learning from my mistakes.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the framed photo, leaning against the table in the hall
. Carrying it to the living room, I saw the empty space he’d cleared on the wall for me. There was a hammer on the coffee table, a small gold hook and nail right beside it. I picked up the hammer and stared at it for a long time.

  I HEARD the front door open, and I held my breath. Sam sighed and the steps creaked out their familiar pattern as he walked. I gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, hoping it would hold me up. With each passing moment, I felt my heart pound faster. He seemed to be taking his sweet time getting changed out of his suit. When he finally came into the kitchen, my knuckles had turned white.

  “I saw you put your stuff in the closet,” he said nonchalantly.

  “Yup.”

  “And your toothbrush is in the holder.”

  I nodded, biting my lip harder than I meant to.

  “Told you the photo would look good in the living room,” he said with satisfaction.

  He stood right in front of me, peeling my fingers free from the edge of the granite.

  “You were right.” My voice sounded weak.

  Sam kissed me before I could say what I really wanted to.

  “I’m sorry, Sam. Really. Please, just be patient with me. I promise I’ll get my shit together. Someday.”

  He smiled and put his hands on my shoulders.

  “There’s nothing you need to do, Wes. Or fix. That’s the point. And I’ll tell you this again, since you never seem to hear me. I love you and I want you here.”

  Sam had told me he loved me a million times in the last few months; the words had never really sunk in. And I’d never managed to say them back. But if I was going to take the leap, I wanted to do it with both feet. Looking him square in the eye, I took a deep breath.

  “I love you too, Sam. And I want to be here.”

  I expected him to swoon, or at the very least smile. Instead, he smirked and gave me a playful shove.

  “Jeez. It’s about time, babe,” he said with a roll of his eyes.

  I tried to shove him back, but instead I found myself in his arms.

  “So now that you’re actually living here, does that mean you finally cooked something for dinner, Wes? I mean, something besides mac and cheese?”