by L. B. Dunbar
His fingers work me while I tug at his T-shirt from the back, desperate to get it off him. I just want to feel his skin under my hands. I want to know he’s really here, soaking him up as much as I can before he leaves because he’s eventually going to leave again.
He props up on an elbow and awkwardly pulls his shirt over his head from the back of his neck. Then his mouth returns to mine, and his fingers slip inside me once more. My own fingers fumble to open his jeans before sliding inside his briefs and curling around him.
“Please, Brit,” he begs, though there’s nothing he needs to ask. Without a fight, I’m falling into a black pit with him, risking my own heart for his. I shove his jeans low enough, and he tugs at my pajama shorts, easily slipping them down my legs. Gavin balances on the edge of the bed and tugs me to him by my thighs. He’s quick to remove a condom from his pocket and cover himself. With his knees bent into the mattress, he lifts me under my thighs and positions himself at my entrance. I use my heels as best I can to hold myself up, and he slams into me, joining us together. My head tips back, and I bite my lip to keep myself quiet. It’s reckless and risky knowing Gee isn’t far away and isn’t sleeping, but I won’t stop Gavin. I don’t want to stop him.
Clutching at my hips, he pistons into me, filling me over and over. My heels remain on the edge of the bed, forcing my lower body upward to meet his as he rushes to a finish line. I’m not going to get there, but this isn’t about me. This is all for him. He slides back and forth until he stills, spilling into me within minutes. As he heavily breathes, chest lifting and lowering, he glances down at where we join, holding me attached to him. His eyes close, but one hand smooths up my belly.
“I would have married you,” he mutters. “I would have been there for you.” He slips out of me, and my legs lower. As he pulls up his jeans, I sit, feeling dissatisfied. To my surprise, he cups my face and leans down to kiss me. Tender, soft, and sad, my heart rips in half, torn between wanting to love him and accepting he’ll never forgive me.
“I’m so sorry. For so many things, I’m sorry,” I mutter to his mouth, slipping my hands to the back of his head to hold him close.
“Me too. Me too,” he murmurs as his mouth still touches mine.
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” I pull back just enough to look up at him. His forehead comes to mine, and he rolls it against me, still inhaling deeply for a second.
“You didn’t get there,” he whispers, lowering his hand for my leg, but I catch his forearm. That moment has passed. This wasn’t about me.
“Gavin, you need to think of your mom.” He nods, returning his forehead to mine and closing his eyes another second. I’m worried he’s too tired to drive. It’s late, and it’s dark.
“You need to rest. Do you want to shower here? Do you need a nap?” Taking care of people is what I do best, and I’m desperate to take care of him.
He rocks his forehead over mine again, leans down to kiss my nose, and abruptly stands. With his jeans still partially open, he steps for the sliding glass door and slips out, leaving me behind once again.
+ + +
The next evening is almost a repeat of the night before, but Gavin arrives earlier. The sliding door is open, allowing fresh air through the screen. Gavin helps himself into my room. I sit on the bed, watching him.
“She’s gone,” he quietly says, and I scramble from the bed and wrap my arms around him. He tugs me to him, holding me tight. When his mouth skims up my neck, I know what he wants. I don’t want to fool myself into thinking this is anything more than it is. It’s like we are those teens again. We won’t be endless. We have a limit to us, but for now, he wants to fill every minute.
As Gavin takes me to the bed again, he asks me where Gee is, realizing the hour is much earlier than the dark of last night.
“He’s at practice.” Thankfully, Theo is out, and I imagine he’ll be consoling whichever Carter girl he’s dating soon enough. Hopefully, he isn’t doing what Gavin and I are about to do.
Gavin and I fall to the bed, repeating most of what we did last night, but instead of him balancing over the edge of the mattress in a rush to finish, he climbs over me, hitching one leg up to his hip before sliding into me. He moves slower tonight, more deliberately, taking control, and making sure I orgasm before he does.
When he eventually pulls out and falls to my side, I turn my head to look at him. He looks exhausted. We should talk about the inconsistency of protection as I’m not on the pill. I went off it after marrying Patrick. When we eventually learned he wouldn’t get me pregnant, it didn’t seem to matter. As Gavin closes his eyes, though, I decide now isn’t the time to mention what we’ve done. I roll to an elbow and stroke over his face.
“Crawl under the covers. Sleep for a bit.”
Without responding, he does as I say, helping himself under my sheets, and falling asleep almost instantly.
I shower and meet Gee as he returns home from practice. I tell him what’s happened and hold him, offering comfort however I can to a little man who’s had his world rocked just as much as Gavin. Gee doesn’t have many questions as he’s already experienced death too often as a young person.
“You won’t leave me, right, Mom?” My heart broke.
“I’ll always be here,” I promised him, intending to keep that promise for a long time.
For some reason, I don’t mention that Gavin is here, wanting to give him some quiet support and keep him to myself just a little bit longer.
In the depths of the night, I’m awakened by something stiff at my backside and fingers outlining my hip.
“You okay?”
“It’s so late,” Gavin whispers.
“I let you sleep,” I quietly reply as his fingertips trace over my hip. He’s still naked under my sheets, but I’m wearing my pajamas. “Are you hungry?”
He shakes his head against the back of mine. “Only for you.” His hand continues over the edges of my body.
“You have on too much clothing,” he mutters, tugging down my shorts and underwear and then forcing me upward to remove my shirt. “Better,” he says as I lie back down, feeling the heat of him behind me. We should talk. We should discuss his feelings, where he’s at in all that’s happening so fast for him, but we don’t. His hand slips over my hip while his mouth comes to my shoulder, kissing me as his fingers dip between me again.
“I can’t get enough,” he whispers as if it’s an explanation. He’s taking advantage of me, but I don’t know how to stop him. I don’t know that I want to stop him because reality will hit him soon, and he’ll need to make some decisions. We’ll need to make plans for the future instead of only living in the moment, and I’m frightened of what that will look like.
As his fingers dip between my thighs again, and the warmth of his stiff length presses at my backside, I slip into that vortex of him, always him, allowing him to take from me once again. As we lay on our sides, he hitches my leg over his hip to open me up, and he slides into me from behind. I’ve never done it like this, lazy and slow and lying on my side, and he reaches around me for my clit. As he did earlier, he takes his time, no longer in a rush but still working up a rhythm.
“Britton, baby,” he mutters to my neck. “Let me feel you all around me.” I work to clear my headspace and just take in this moment. His fingers on the sweet spot. His dick deep inside me. We move as one, dancing in a sense, and tingles ripple across my belly.
“Gavin,” I whisper in warning.
“Yeah,” he hisses, encouraging me, eager for me. As my body gives in, he increases his pace, holding my shoulder as he surges into me. “So good.”
He continues to move, his body rocking behind mine until he stills, jolting inside me. He pauses, holding my shoulder as he breathes heavily behind me. My chest lifts and lowers as well until he curls closer to me, wrapping his arm over my midsection and tugging our bodies tight together.
“Thank you,” he whispers before slipping out of me and leaving the bed to get a wa
shcloth for me. When he returns, he folds next to me once more, facing me this time.
“Let me stay a little longer,” he quietly asks, and I meet his eyes as best I can in the dark room.
“You can stay as long as you’d like.”
Please let it be forever.
Take 26
Scene: The Kitchen
[Gavin]
“Mom,” Gee’s voice pulls me from sleep, and I sit upright, the sheet falling to my waist. Beside me, Britton clutches the blanket, bringing it upward to cover her chest.
“Gee.” Her voice squeaks as I rub a hand down my face. I’m disoriented for a second—aware of my surroundings but still foggy.
“Gavin,” Gee says my name under his breath, and I glance over at him.
“Hey, buddy.” I try to smile through this awkward moment. I’m naked, and his mom is naked while Gee stands next to the bed. “How about giving us a second, okay?”
Gee blinks as if coming back into consciousness and nods. He steps to the door of Britton’s room, walking out and pulling the door closed behind him. I twist to face Britton once he’s gone and find her sitting upright. She holds the blanket over her chest and swipes back her hair.
“Oh God,” she mutters beside me.
“That wasn’t so bad,” I joke, but Britton quickly exits the bed, taking the blanket with her.
“Hey, come back here,” I tease, reaching out for the covering around her, but she turns to glare at me.
“This is not good,” she hisses.
“Why not?” I release the blanket and stare up at her.
“Because I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.”
“And what would be the wrong idea?”
“You. Me. Us.”
I shift as well, kicking my legs off the side of the bed and bend for my jeans, which aren’t where I thought they’d be on the floor. Searching her room, I see them folded and on top of her dresser along with my shirt.
“What would be wrong with us?” I ask, standing and giving her the full show of how I feel about us this morning. I’m stiff as a rock and ready to pin her to the wall.
“You’re going to leave soon, Gavin. I don’t want him hopeful that we can be more.”
“Because we can’t be,” I mock. Reaching for my jeans, I skip my briefs and tug the denim upward.
Britton doesn’t respond. I want her to give me one hint that we can be more, and I’ll figure something out.
Instead, she turns to the closet and yanks a dress off a hanger. Hastily, she grabs a bra and underwear from her dresser, and I tug on my shirt. Despite the sudden negative energy in the room, the entire experience of dressing together feels appropriate, almost comforting, and I wonder what it would be like to start every day with her.
“I need a minute,” she tells me, entering the bathroom off her room. When she finishes her business, she returns to the room, dressed and freshened up.
“I put a toothbrush on the counter.” She’s brushing past me when I reach for her arm and tug her toward me.
“Hey.” She freezes, and I swipe back her freshly brushed hair. “Good morning.”
Her lip trembles, but she bites the corner before mumbling, “Good morning.”
I cup her cheek and lean forward, expecting her to pull away from me. Instead, she meets my mouth, slow to warm, but finally giving in.
“That’s better,” I say to her, a small smile curling my lips.
“How are you doing today?” she asks, her eyes searching my face as I lean away from her. I’d be better if we returned to her bed, but I have things to do today, like meeting my family to plan a funeral. The thought hits me hard, and I collapse back on the bed, taking a seat on the edge and slipping my hand to Britton’s.
“I’m not certain it’s really hit me,” I say, focusing on her fingers, stroking over them. “So much has happened. All of it so fast.” I glance up at her, and she swipes her fingers through my hair, comforting me.
“It’s been a lot,” she agrees. “What do you need from me? What do you want from Gee and me?”
I like how she’s included both of them. I understand they’re a package deal, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.
“Just knowing you’re here has been so helpful,” I admit. It’s true. I snuck into her room two nights ago and took what I wanted from her. Last night, she welcomed me just as eagerly, and I took my time to savor her, losing myself in her.
In time, I’ll process Mum’s passing and realize once more how short life can be. For now, I’m soaking up these minutes with Britton, and I want to include Gee in that time.
“We’re here for you,” she says, breaking into my thoughts, and I give a weak smile again before standing for another quick kiss.
“Give me a minute, and I’ll meet you out there.”
When I finally find Britton in the kitchen, Gee is seated at the table, eating cereal.
“What’s on the agenda today?” I ask as Gee stares at me.
“Theo and I will hang out at the adventure shop while Mom works. I have another game tonight.” Britton walks to the table, offering me a bowl, and I glance at the cereal box.
“What are we eating?”
“Frosted Flakes,” Gee says, nodding at the box. I haven’t had that cereal since I was a kid.
“Sounds perfect.” I take the box and help myself.
“What are you doing today?” Gee cheerfully asks, and I look at Britton to see if she’s told him what happened. She nods as if to say he knows.
“My mum . . . passed away,” I say, swallowing around the words. “I need to get back to Grandpa Jack and help him out.”
Gee watches me as I stare down at the dry cereal in my bowl. “It’s like my dad.”
I nod, blinking to dull the burn in my eyes before looking up at him. “You know, I’m here for you. Whatever you need. I know I’m not him, but I’d like to be . . . someone to you.”
Gee looks at me. “You’re my dad, too, so I guess I’m lucky.” Out of the corner of my eyes, Britton lowers her mug to the counter. She’s standing near the sink, just listening to us.
“How so?”
“My dad died, but now I have you.”
I choke on the lump forming in my throat.
“I’m glad you have me,” I tell him, admitting the truth. I’m happy to give myself to this kid, my kid. Surprising me even more, Gee slips from his chair and comes closer to mine.
“I’m sorry about your mom.” He leans over and wraps himself around me, tightening his smaller arms around my neck. I slip mine around his thin back and pull him closer to me. My eyes fill with the liquid I’ve been fighting, and I rapidly blink, willing the tears away. I don’t want to cry, yet everything in me wants to let go. Awkwardly, I pat his back, needing him to let go of me before I become a human fountain.
“Thanks, buddy.” I pat his back once more, only when he steps away, my arms have never felt so empty. I blink several times again, still fighting the tears. Britton steps up to me and rubs a hand over my shoulder before wrapping it around the back of my neck and pausing there. My head lowers, still fighting the damn tears.
“It’s kind of nice, isn’t it?” she whispers, and I risk glancing up at her as she stands beside me. Gee has returned to his seat, and she nods at him. Slowly, she smiles, and I gaze at him across the table.
It’s kind of . . . wonderful.
+ + +
The next few days pass in a blur, but I go to Britton every night. I don’t know if she’s taking in my grief or I’m taking from her, but I welcome her body against mine. I long for it. We don’t talk about the future or the fact we’re essentially playing Russian roulette without protection. In some ways, I’m hoping she gets pregnant. I want to share the experience, but I don’t know if she wants more children. I don’t know if she wants me. I don’t know what she wants, and we should talk.
After the funeral, we gather at my parents’ house where it’s overflowing with well-wishers and casseroles.
&nb
sp; “Where are we going to put all this?” Karyn asks, staring down at the kitchen table cluttered with casserole dish stacked upon casserole dish. “Dad’s taken care of for the next year.”
Considering the size of some of these pans, I’d say he’s set for more than a year. It’s ridiculous, although people mean well. They just want to help. They want to be supportive. They want to do something, and it makes me think of Britton. She’s giving so much to me each night, and I need to do something for her in return.
As the afternoon rolls into the evening, the alcohol flows. Dad’s gone to his room, and Karyn complains he shouldn’t be left alone.
“He needs time to grieve,” Emily, Jess’s new wife, says from near the kitchen counter where she stands. She and Jess returned from their honeymoon early to attend the funeral. “Let him be for the night.”
“Will you be able to check on him?” Karyn turns on me, and I want to snap at her sassy control—am I my father’s keeper?—but I know what she’s asking.
“I’ll be here.”
“You sure? I’ve heard you’ve been somewhere else every night.”
My head snaps up as I glare at my sister. “What do you think you know?”
“You’re spending every night at Britton’s house.” She’s scolding me as though it’s any of her concern. Thankfully, Britton isn’t in the room. She left a while ago to take Gee home. She didn’t ask if she should come back, and I didn’t ask if I could come over. I’ll be there later.
“How do you know?” I ask, essentially giving away the truth.
“Gee told Holden you were in Britton’s bed the other morning, and Theo told Meghan you’ve been sneaking into her room every night.”
Fuck. Such a busybody small town, but then I want to chuckle as the information-spreading is coming from kids.
“So what?” I ask, feeling all eyes on me. Tom stands back by Jess and Emily while Karyn is near the table like me.
“So, you’re fucking with her,” Karyn states, eyes spearing me. The distraction in them is they look just like Mum’s, but Mum would never be so direct.
