The Art of Us

by KL Hughes

  Alex cups her fully. She closes her eyes at the feeling, more aroused than she can recall being in years. The sensation only amplifies when she feels Charlee’s fingers glide between her still-soaking lips a moment later.

  “Together,” Charlee says, and Alex feels her eyes begin to sting behind her eyelids again, so overwhelmed she doesn’t know whether to cry or laugh or scream.

  She runs her fingers up and down, collecting all that Charlee has to offer, and when she enters her, two fingers buried deep in one swift thrust, it’s like coming home. Charlee’s breath slams from her lungs and she follows, slipping inside Alex with ease. They rock against one another, slow at first, then faster. Harder. Desperate. Charlee presses her thigh to the back of her hand as she drives into Alex, and the pressure makes Alex’s head spin.

  The air feels hot, too hot, and the world shrinks around them until there is nothing but the ragged gasps of their shallow breathing, the wet sounds of their fingers pumping in and out of one another.

  Charlee catches her off guard with a gentle kiss, and tears flood behind Alex’s eyelids. “Look at me,” Charlee says, and Alex does.

  Like something out of a dream, Charlee hovers above her, torn right from Alex’s memory but better, so much better, because this is real. This is here. This is now, and Alex is shaken by how much she wants it, how much she wants to freeze this one moment in time, this one moment of precious rediscovery. This one look that Alex knows is saying so much.

  It’s hello, the kind they were always meant to have but got lost somewhere along the way. The hello they promised each other, finally finding its way back to them. It’s I missed you and I’m sorry and I love you and stay and don’t leave me and never, never again. It’s everything wrapped into one heady moment, tied up in their tangled limbs and quivering in their parted lips.

  With her hand buried in the pillow under Alex’s head, Charlee holds herself up, but she also manages to rub her thumb over Alex’s cheek. That’s all it takes for the first of Alex’s tears to fall. They break free just as Charlee’s muscles begin to clench around her fingers, and tension curls low in Alex’s stomach. They pump themselves hard against one another. Once, twice, then Charlee peaks, freezing hard in place. A strangled moan rumbles in her throat as she digs her nails into Alex’s hips and clamps down around her fingers.

  Only just behind her, Alex’s eyes slam closed as the waves wash through her. Charlee buries her face in her neck, and they tremble against one another until every last tremor has rippled through and away. They collapse, boneless.

  For what feels like hours, they lie sweaty and exhausted and still inside each other. Then Charlee slowly pulls out of Alex and braces a hand on each side of her head. She hovers over her, eyes somehow bright in the dark room, and all Alex’s worries seep out and away.

  Because this is right.

  This is right.

  And they are going to be okay.

  Alex runs a finger through a wet streak on Charlee’s cheek. “Hello.”

  Charlee kisses Alex’s finger, then leans into her hand, shakes her head against Alex’s palm, and lets out a quiet sob. She falls against Alex’s lips, plants hot, fast kisses over every inch of her face. With every kiss, the tears come faster and harder, and Alex just holds onto her. She holds onto her and closes her eyes and promises she will never let go.

  Never, never again.

  A quiet groan escapes Alex as her face scrunches and her body jerks, a strange tickling sensation drawing her up from the haze of sleep. Eyes still closed, she rubs her hands over her face and smells the lingering scent of Charlee on her fingers. Her stomach flips and drops, and her mouth quirks up at one corner.

  “What are you smiling about, sleepyhead?”

  She registers the words before she registers the music playing, music that has apparently been playing for a while. Blinking her eyes open, Alex finds the room flooded with light and Charlee kneeling by her legs with a paintbrush in one hand and a small plastic palette in the other. Her hair is secured in a messy ponytail, loose strands falling around her face. Paint smudges her nose and chin, and she wears Alex’s navy button-up shirt from the night before. It’s tight around her chest, the two buttons she has clasped both straining. Gray panties peek out from the bottom of the shirt. The rest of her is bare.

  The orange light of late day spills in from the open door and haloes around Charlee from behind. Her blue eyes lock onto Alex, and all the moisture in Alex’s body floods to the space between her thighs.

  “God,” she says, “what is there not to smile about?”

  Charlee releases a quiet laugh and bends to kiss the exposed flesh of Alex’s hip where the sheet has been tossed aside. Hopping to her feet, she steps over to the supplies table in the corner. Her hips sway in time with the music as she replenishes the paint on her palette, and Alex can’t take her eyes off her. Her breath feels caught somewhere between her ribs, sharp and wonderful.

  When Charlee returns to the bed, she drops back onto her knees, dips her paintbrush into a bright dollop of green paint, and then goes back to what she was doing. The tickling sensation returns and makes Alex frown as she shifts up onto her elbow and looks down. Her leg has been partially transformed into a sprawling forest. The deep browns of tree trunks crawling up her calf blend into the rich greens of pine needles and broad leaves, and Alex feels her chest stretch and stretch. She thinks her heart will burst with the swelling.

  “Charlee.”

  At the whisper of her name, she grins but doesn’t look up. Her focus remains firmly on Alex’s leg. “I love trees.”

  “Charlee.”

  “And I love your legs.”

  “Charlee.”

  “And I love y—”

  Alex launches across the bed, grabs her by her arm, and yanks her down into a kiss. The paint palette squishes between them, smearing color across the sheets and across their bodies, but Alex doesn’t care. She kisses Charlee breathless, kisses her colorful like the sprawling trees. When they part, she runs her thumb through the smudged paint on Charlee’s chin, laughs, then kisses her again.

  They roll in the sheets, hands pulling at the barriers between them, and Alex feels the thick smear of color across her fingertips and palms, across her forearms and stomach. She feels it on Charlee’s fingers as they slide up her neck and into her hair. She flips Charlee onto her back and cups her cheeks.

  “Look at the mess you’ve made,” she says, rubbing a line of color over Charlee’s bottom lip.

  “It’s a beautiful mess, though.” Charlee looks up at her like Alex is just as much a piece of art as anything Charlee has ever created. She kisses Alex’s thumb as it slides across her lip again. “Did you not want me to paint on you?”

  “Paint on me,” Alex says, swirling her index finger through the colors on Charlee’s cheek. “Turn me into forests and galaxies and whatever else. I don’t care.”

  “You don’t?”

  Alex shakes her head. Kisses Charlee again and again. “As long as you’ll do it for the rest of my life.”

  Chapter 15

  “I’m with Alex!”

  Alex bumped her shoulder against Charlee’s, and Charlee merely rolled her eyes. “Way to be predictable, Dad.”

  A piece of popcorn smacked into the side of Drew’s head and rolled to the floor. “Thanks for abandoning your wife.”

  “What?” Drew shrugged a shoulder and grinned at Gabby. “Alex is the best at trivia.”

  “Alex is just competitive,” Vinny said, patting the empty space beside her on the couch. “You can be with me, Gabby.”

  “Thank you, Vinny.” Gabby reached for Vinny’s wrist just as she was about to eat a mouthful of popcorn. “Should you be eating that? How’s your tooth? You didn’t cancel the appointment I made for you, did you?”

  Vinny swatted at Gabby’s hand. “Stop mom-ing me, woman. I’m fi
ne.”

  “That’s what you said last time, and then you got that absc—”

  The words died in a cluster of flying popcorn as Alex, Charlee, and Drew all tossed pieces from the other large bowl at Gabby and shouted their now months-old rule. “No mom-ing on game night!”

  “Anyway,” Vinny said, laughing as Gabby poked her knee in retaliation, “I was going to say that Alex is competitive, but we all know Cam’s the smartest person here.” At Gabby’s narrowed eyes, she added, “I mean, after the engineer dad and doctor mom, of course.”

  “Damn right.” Cam made her way in from the kitchen with a collection of drinks held protectively against her chest. After handing them off one by one, she settled onto the floor beside Charlee. “There’s nothing like being a genius, guys, honestly.”

  “Okay, fine,” Drew said. “I’ll switch to Cam, then.”

  Alex gasped, offended, which made Charlee burst into laughter.

  “If you make my girlfriend cry, I’ll be forced to hurt you, Dad.” She threw a few pieces of popcorn at him and watched as he caught all but one in his mouth and crunched them obnoxiously. “And, sorry, but you made your choice. Cam’s with me, and you’re with Alex.”

  “And I’m excellent!” Alex pinched his shoulder, eliciting a laugh. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head.

  “Okay, okay,” Gabby said, drawing everyone’s attention. “Let’s get this going. Who’s up first?”

  When Cam and Charlee won by a small margin, Alex blamed it on Drew, Drew blamed it on Alex, and Vinny dumped the entire bowl of remaining cold popcorn over their heads.

  “This family is ridiculous!”

  “Are you nervous?” Charlee’s voice strains. It dips in and out of sound, shredded to nearly nothing after a week-long cold. At the first signs of congestion, Charlee had tried to warn her away, but Alex hadn’t cared. She’d simply crawled into bed with her, kissed the feverish skin of her neck, and asked what kind of soup she wanted.

  “A bit.” Alex places the last of the dishes into the drainer. She turns to Charlee, leaning her back against the kitchen counter. A spot of water seeps through the back of her shirt and makes her squirm. “Are you?”

  “I think I’m more excited than nervous.” Motioning for Alex to follow, Charlee leads them to the bedroom to change. “I just don’t want it to be weird. You know? It’s our first game night in years. Literally. And a lot’s changed.”

  “It won’t be.” Alex strips off her shirt and grabs one of the few oversized sweaters she brought from Gabby’s, where most of her belongings live. Dark gray leggings come after, then black fuzzy socks to keep her toes warm on the concrete floor. “They’re still our family, no matter how much has changed.”

  Charlee shuffles over in her own fuzzy socks, blue, and loops her arms around Alex’s waist. “You’re right.”

  A loud knock echoes through the loft, and Alex glances down at her watch. “They’re early.”

  “Of course they are.”

  Vinny barges in a second later, tossing her leather jacket to the side with one hand and carrying a huge container of buffalo wings in the other.

  “Okay, so I haven’t seen either of you in almost two weeks,” she says. “And I’m guessing that’s because you’ve been too busy A) sucking each other’s faces; B) fucking each other’s faces; C) crying all over each other like big sappy babies; or D) all of the above. So, which is it?”

  She slides the wings onto the counter and turns to face them, a shit-eating grin plastered across her lips. “Quick, before Gabby gets up here. She’s helping Cam with the games downstairs, and based on the drive over here, she’s all keyed up about ‘her girls’ finally being back together.”

  “Sounds like her,” Charlee says.

  Vinny leans against the counter and crosses her arms over her chest. “Time is running out here, kids.”

  “How are you the older sister?” Alex asks, hanging Vinny’s jacket on the rack by the door.

  Ignoring her, Vinny looks to Charlee, expectant.

  “D,” Charlee says with a casual roll of her shoulder. “With extra crying and a side of body painting.”

  “Body painting?” Vinny waggles her eyebrows. “Very nice. Watercolor, I’m guessing, given all the blubbering.”

  Charlee lets out a loud laugh, or as loud as she can manage, and punches Vinny’s shoulder as she passes into the kitchen to grab the drinking glasses.

  “What’s with the voice, Croaky?” Vinny follows to help. “Cry that away too? Or better, did you scream it gone?”

  A dish towel smacks into the side of her head from across the kitchen, and Vinny laughs, tossing it back at Alex.

  “Been fighting off a cold.” Charlee passes a few glasses to her. “I’m better now, but my voice is still shit.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Vinny says. “Your mom actually told me last week. I just like to make my sister squirm.”

  “Knock, knock.” Gabby wheels Cam in through the open door, board games stacked in Cam’s lap.

  Cam claps her hands over the top of them and says, “I’m ready to kick some serious ass at trivia.” She points at the waiting bowl of buffalo wings on the kitchen counter. “And after smelling those in the car the entire ride here, I’m also really freakin’ ready to stuff my face.”

  As they settle into the familiar rhythm of being together again, it’s almost as if no time has passed at all. It makes Alex feel warm and full—heavy and light at the same time—and she tries not to think about all the nights she spent alone, halfway across the country and aching for home. She tries not to think about the nights she cried herself to sleep, wishing for Charlee. For Vinny, for Gabby, for Cam, for Drew. She tries not to think about all the time they lost.

  She feels Charlee’s fingers inch over her thigh under the table they’d set up for games. It draws her focus to the blue eyes searching her face. Alex lets an easy sigh slither across her lips. The past leaks away in that knowing gaze. All their screwups. All their lost time. All that remains is the feeling of Charlee’s hand on her, Charlee’s thumb rubbing over her thigh. All that remains is the good, the now, and what Alex hopes will be their future.

  “That is not what it says!” Cam snatches at the answer card Gabby holds out of her reach. “There’s no way in hell I got that wrong.”

  “Sorry, honey.” Gabby reaches across the board to move Cam’s piece for her. “I swear on Vinny’s nipple rings.”

  “Oh my God!” Vinny pumps her arms into the air, cackling. “My life has been made.” She grabs her beer and holds it up. “Wait, wait. I’m toasting to that. Come on.”

  Gabby rolls her eyes but holds up her own drink, and the others follow suit.

  “To Gabby swearing on my nipple rings.” They all repeat the ridiculous toast, tap their drinks together, and take a sip. Vinny then motions to Gabby. “Toast something. Let’s go around the circle.”

  “Okay, let’s see.” Gabby looks around the circle before settling her gaze on Charlee and Alex. “To being together again.”

  A smile tugs at Alex’s lips when Charlee leans into her side and buries her cold nose against Alex’s neck.

  “Sappy, but okay,” Vinny says as they repeat the toast, tap, and drink.

  They continue around the circle, Cam toasting to “nubby rubs and chicken wings,” with her mouth full of the latter, and Alex toasting to family.

  Charlee is the last to raise her drink, and she hesitates for a long moment, her gaze darting around the circle. When she finally croaks out her toast, Alex feels it like a fist around her heart.

  “To Dad.”

  A hush falls over the others, and Charlee shrugs a shoulder. “Sorry,” she says, but Alex is quick to reach for her hand.

  “Don’t be sorry.” Alex holds up her glass and, with her voice nearly as strained as Charlee’s, says, “To Dad
.”

  It’s a chorus that echoes through the Drew-sized gap in their small family circle, and for just a moment, it feels full again.

  Charlee rocked in her chair, tilting it back onto its hind legs and then letting it drop back to the floor before repeating the process. Alex was late, as she sometimes was for their Thursday study sessions due to her job at the student center, and Charlee wished she’d just arrive already. She was certain she was going to vomit or explode or possibly both if she didn’t get this question out soon.

  It had been swirling in her mind for weeks, dancing on the back of her tongue for days, and Charlee didn’t have a clue how Alex was going to react, but she knew she had to ask. She glanced to the floor where she and Alex had had sex for the first time, and her heart jumped and swooped. All that came before and all that followed spilled through her mind and warmed her cheeks. She definitely had to ask.

  The door opened suddenly, catching Charlee off guard, and she tilted just a touch too far. Crashing backward, the chair smacked roughly into the wall and then tumbled to the floor, taking Charlee with it. A strangled sound, somewhere between a squeak and a shout, escaped her as she went down, legs and arms flying wildly through the air. And then she stilled. Cursed. Groaned.

  Alex was at her side in an instant, helping her off the floor and brushing her hair out of her face. “Are you okay?” Though her voice sounded properly concerned, Charlee could see the restrained laughter forcing her lips into a tight smile.

  “You want to laugh, don’t you?” The sound burst out of Alex a second later, and Charlee punched her shoulder.

  “I’m sorry.” Alex wrapped both arms around her. “But how many times have I told you not to lean your chair back?”

  “You’re awful,” Charlee said, shuffling closer and burying her face against Alex’s neck. Loose, thick curls fell over her like a curtain, and Charlee breathed in the familiar scent of Alex’s coconut shampoo. “Took you forever to get here.”