Where We Belong

by K. L. Grayson

  I can’t believe he walked away from me—again.

  Laura watched me closely after Tyson left, but thankfully she didn't say anything. Meanwhile, I fought back tears while I cleaned up the rest of our mess from lunch. I left right after, knowing she would be able to see the sadness on my face. Knowing Laura, she would try to console me and I'd probably break down and cry. I really didn't want to cry. I can't believe that he said we were just 'two old friends having lunch.' But he's right, that is what we are—and I hate it. I don't want to be just two old friends.

  For some reason, I feel the need to make this right. I feel like I need to reach out to him and fix whatever it is I inadvertently broke. Grabbing my phone, I type out a text before I let my nerves get the best of me.

  Me: I'm sorry we were interrupted at lunch today. I really enjoyed spending time with you.

  Hitting ‘send,’ I toss my phone off to the side so that I won't sit and watch it. My pulse is racing, and my nerves feel like they’re itching to get out. My phone dings almost instantly and I grab it frantically.

  Tyson: It's okay. Me too.

  That's it? I throw myself out there and tell him I enjoyed spending time with him today, and that's all he says in return? Well fuck, I was hoping for more than that.

  Me: Maybe we could try again tomorrow?

  Tyson: I usually don't get lunch.

  Now that pisses me off! Why would he try so hard to spend time with me and then just walk away...and now he's blowing me off? My thumb hovers tentatively over my screen as I contemplate my next move. After my attack and Max’s birth, and following my bout with depression, I promised myself that I wouldn't let fear rule my life. I vowed that I would take chances and be bold because tomorrow isn't guaranteed. And I swore that I wouldn't have any more regrets. Those pledges are what spur my next text.

  Me: Would you like to go out to dinner with me this weekend?

  He doesn't respond right away, and I briefly think that maybe I shouldn't have just done that. Damnit. Why can't there be a grace period with text messages so that you have about a minute to hit ‘undo’ before they’re actually sent? That would really be great right about now. Several minutes pass before Tyson replies.

  Tyson: Really? You want to have dinner?

  Me: Of course I do. I thought that's what we were trying to do, get to know each other again. Did you change your mind?

  What the hell? I'm so confused. He can't change his mind.

  Tyson: Okay. Dinner. Will Max be okay with us having dinner?

  That's an odd question. Oh God! My hand covers my mouth. Brit. Gah! I groan, throwing my head back on the couch. How could I forget about Brit? That's probably why he was acting so funny at lunch. Maybe I was coming on too strong and I made him uncomfortable. Wait. Levi made it sound like Tyson came back for me. Why would he come back for me if he’s still with Brit?

  Me: Umm... yeah. We're just friends, but I'll still tell him we're going. He already knows about you. He'll probably be upset that he won't get to meet you himself.

  Me: What about Brit? Will she be okay with us having dinner?

  Tyson: You told him about me?

  I frown at my phone momentarily—he didn't answer my question about Brit.

  What is going on in that boy’s head?

  Me: Yes. He's seen pictures of you and knows about our history. He's going to be really excited to meet you.

  When we moved into the new house, Max and I were looking through some old albums, and of course they were filled with pictures of Tyson and me. Max asked so many questions…he wanted to know who Tyson was, how I knew him, and basically everything about him. Even though it reminded me just how much I missed Tyson, I enjoyed telling Max about him and reliving those memories.

  Tyson: You can bring him to dinner with us if you want. I can meet him there.

  Me: He's going to the Cards-Cubs game in Chicago this weekend. But soon. Let's talk more over dinner?

  Tyson: Ok. Dinner. Send me your address and I'll pick you up.

  Me: I can meet you somewhere. I don't expect you to drive all the way here.

  Tyson: On my days off I've been staying in one of Mom and Dad’s empty rental houses. It's closer to home.

  Me: Ok. 22 Larson. Pick me up at 5?

  Tyson: See you then.

  Dropping my phone in my lap, I lean back against the couch and close my eyes. What the hell is happening? My phone lets out one last chirp, startling me.

  Tyson: Brit and I aren't together.

  “Yes!” I whisper, pumping my fist in the air.

  So I guess I was wrong…Tyson didn't act weird earlier because of Brit. But that still doesn't explain anything. Unless maybe he could tell that I was still attracted to him and he doesn't feel the same way. Oh God, please tell me I didn't creep him out. I close my eyes, trying to remember every detail from lunch today. I don't remember doing or saying anything that would make him uncomfortable.

  Me: What happened?

  Tyson: We can discuss over dinner. Good night.

  LOCKING THE SCREEN, I toss my phone aside and flop back on the bed. Did she really think I was still with Brit?

  What the fuck just happened? Her text was completely unexpected. I’m the one who acted like a complete douche, and yet she reached out to me? I tried to sound unaffected, not because I wanted to upset her but if we are only ever going to be friends, then I have to maintain some sort of distance in order to keep my heart intact. That strong determination quickly went to shit when she asked me to dinner. I was definitely not expecting that.

  My first thought was why would she ask me to dinner after the way I walked away from her today. For a brief moment, I found myself wondering if Harley was the type of girl that would go out with me and not tell her boyfriend. I shook that thought off quickly, angry with myself for even thinking it. Of course she wouldn't, and she didn't disappoint. Not only did she say she would tell Max, but said she had already told him all about me.

  Fuck. Keeping any form of distance is going to be impossible. I need to burn off some energy before I go insane.

  I take off my shirt, slip on basketball shorts and my running shoes, and push my ear buds in my ears. It takes me thirty minutes to run to my gym, where I spend another two hours working off all of the frustrations from today.

  Seeing Harley this afternoon was fantastic, but realizing that we could only ever be friends was not. I groan at the memory, hating myself for the way I walked away from her. By the end of my workout, I have myself convinced that I can, in fact, just be friends with Harley. I want that. Very much.

  It's going to take time to not look at her as more than a friend though, considering I haven't been able to stop thinking about her sexy, toned legs, killer curves, and picture-perfect rack since I first laid eyes on her again. It probably doesn't help that every time I close my eyes, I picture said legs gripping my hips tightly as I plunge deep into her warm body.

  My workout doesn't exactly alleviate my frustrations so I make one last attempt by sprinting home at a fast clip, pushing my body to its limit. I stagger into my condo, my legs loose and unsteady as I strip down, leaving a trail of clothes on my way to the bathroom. Reaching around the curtain, I turn the shower on and let it run briefly to warm the water. Stepping in, I allow the scalding hot water and steam to engulf me, and I relish the way it relaxes my muscles after a hard workout. Closing my eyes, I lean my head back and Harley's beautiful face instantly consumes my thoughts.

  Today she was wearing hot-pink scrub pants that sat low on her hips and hugged her tight ass perfectly. Her scrub top had a piece of material that wrapped around her waist and tied in the back, accentuating her kick-ass curves. She had her long chestnut waves wrapped in a loose bun at the base of her neck. A low growl rumbles from my throat and I feel my cock begin to stir.

  Reaching down, I fist myself tightly, hating that I'm about to bring myself pleasure by thinking about the one person I can't have. I would have given anything today to pull the band from
her hair and watch it cascade down her back. I pump harder at the thought of running my fingers through her thick mane and giving her hair a firm tug, not hard but enough that she knows who's in control.

  My hips rock quickly as I allow the fantasy to run wild behind my eyelids. Pushing her against the wall, I dip my hand down the front of her scrub pants. Sliding her panties to the side, I breach her wet folds and plunge my fingers deep inside her soft, warm body. Throwing her head back, she arches into my touch, offering me everything she has. My name leaves her lips in a light whisper and…that's all it takes. My body convulses and my dick continues to twitch in my hand as I ride out the final waves of my orgasm.

  I'm fairly certain that I haven't come that hard in years.

  Fuck. It's going to be harder than I thought to only be her friend.

  Fucking Max. Lucky-ass bastard.

  I WRAP MY ARMS tightly around his waist and bury my nose in the side of his neck, inhaling his perfect scent. Crap. What was I thinking? I can’t do this. I squeeze tighter. Honest to God, someone is going to have to pry me off of him.

  “Mo-om,” Max whines. “You’re squeezing all my breath out." Chuckling lightly at his comment, I pull back and start peppering kisses across his face. Scrunching up his shoulders, he collapses to the floor in a fit of giggles.

  “Tickles. It t-t-tickles,” he squeaks in between laughs. Gripping his hands, I pull him up so that he’s standing in front me and I cup his cheeks in my hands. My eyes roam his face nervously, memorizing every little thing about him. Some people would probably think I’m overreacting, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned in my twenty-seven years, it’s that bad things can happen in the blink of an eye.

  It’s that thought that makes my stomach twist in knots and I swallow hard, choking back my emotion. Max doesn’t need to see me cry. “I love you, buddy.”

  “I love you too, mom,” he says with a wide, toothy smile.

  “Listen to Nana and Papa and don’t ever walk away from them. Got it?”

  “Got it,” he replies with a firm nod.

  Bending down, my mom grabs Max’s overnight bag and tosses it over her shoulder. “Alright, Maxy, let’s get going. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

  “Woo-hoo...” Max yells, his voice trailing off as he runs through the house.

  Mom wraps her arm around my neck and pulls me into a hug. “He’s going to be fine. Stop worrying,” she soothes. “Enjoy your Max-free weekend. Get out and do something fun.”

  Pulling back, I attempt to give her a genuine smile. Her face is full of amusement and her answering grin causes my smile to turn into a sob. My head drops to her shoulder and I hear her laugh quietly as she reaches up to wipe away the wetness from my eyes.

  “Stop this...we will be back before you know it." She pats me twice on the back and then walks off, leaving me standing in the middle of Max’s bedroom.

  Making my way to the living room, I find Max jumping excitedly from foot to foot. “I getta ride a big ferry wheel!”

  Dad’s mouth lifts into a huge grin and he reaches down, mussing up Max’s hair. “Ferris…” he says slowly, “not ferry.”

  “Who cares,” Max yelps, batting away my dad’s hand. “It’s a big wheel and I get to ride it!”

  Squatting down to Max’s level, I envelop him in another big hug and give him one last kiss. “Have fun, buddy! I’ll see you in a few days.”

  “’Kay, mom. Bye!” he yells. Grabbing my dad’s hand, Max turns and pulls him out the door. Dad turns his head, giving me a quick wink, and mom walks out behind him, stopping briefly to kiss my temple. “Bye, sweetie.”

  “See ya. Have fun." I shut the door, lock it, and turn around to face my empty house. Pressing my back against the cool wood, I slide to the floor and allow the silence to consume me. I promised myself that I was going to take advantage of my weekend alone. I can do whatever I want; I just have to figure what it is I want to do.

  “Now what?" I murmur to myself. My phone beeps in my pocket and I pull it out, smiling when I see Quinn’s name. Perfect timing, Quinny.

  Quinn: Did Max leave yet?

  Me: Yup…

  Quinn: Are you crying?

  Me: Nope…

  Quinn: Do you have plans for tonight?

  Me: Nope. Wanna get together?

  Quinn: Sorry I’ve got plans.

  Seriously? I stare at the phone, at a loss for how to respond, when another text comes in.

  Quinn: Try Levi.

  Me: Then why did you ask if I have plans?

  Quinn: Cause I was curious.

  Me: What are you doing tonight?

  Quinn: I’ve got a hot date.

  Me: WHAT?!

  Screw this. Sometimes I hate texting. I dial Quinn and she answers on the first ring. “Ha! I knew you’d call.”

  “You have a date? Why am I just now hearing about this?" I ask accusingly. “Who is it?”

  Quinn’s laugh rings loudly through the phone. “First, you are just now hearing about it because it just sort of happened. Second…I’m not tell-ing,” she sings.

  “What?" I scoff. “Damnit, Quinny, I tell you everything. Please tell me,” I beg.

  “I can’t.”

  “Can’t or won’t?" Pushing up from the floor, I make my way through the house, picking up Max’s toys that he left scattered around.

  “Umm…both.”

  What?

  “What the fuck, Quinn? Spill the damn beans, ‘cause you’re starting to piss me off!" I scold.

  “Harley,” she whines, “please don’t push me on this. If you keep pushing, I’m going to tell you, but this is really important to me and I’m not ready to make it public. It’s so fresh and new, and right now I just want to enjoy it. If I feel like it’s going somewhere, then I promise I’ll tell you. Okay?”

  Wow. Quinn has always been an open book so this is a huge shock. She is totally the kiss-and-tell type of girl.

  “Okay, Quinny. But now I’m worried about you.”

  “Harley, quit worrying about me. You’ve got an entire weekend to yourself. You need to go out and do something fun. Tell me what you have planned.”

  “Well, I’m cleaning right now. I’ve got some laundry to do, the dishes need to be washed, the floors could use a good scrubbing—”

  “Jesus Christ…” she moans, effectively cutting me off. “You’re twenty-seven, Harley, not seventy-two. The cleaning can wait. You have no kid and no responsibilities for two-and-a-half days. Do you realize that you could go get shit-faced and sleep in the next day? Seriously, when is the last time you’ve been able to do that?”

  She’s got a point. Usually when I go out, I only have a drink or two because I know that I’ll have to pick up Max the next day. When was the last time I got drunk? Or even had a buzz? Honest to God, I can’t remember.

  “You’re right!” I announce proudly. “I deserve to have some fun. I’m going to call Levi and make him take me out.”

  “Atta girl…” she praises. “Now go get all dolled up and have some fun.”

  “Thanks, Quinn. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Have fun tonight.”

  “I will, and you have fun too. Bye, babe," she says, hanging up the phone.

  I look at my watch—five-thirty. Plenty of time to clean and then jump in the shower. It’s easy for Quinn to say ‘no housework’ because she’s never had to pick up after a four-year-old boy. I gather Max’s toys and toss them in the toy box and then make quick work of sorting through the dirty laundry before throwing a load into the washer.

  I type out a quick text to Levi, telling him that we’re going out tonight, and I jump in the shower, relishing the fact that for the first time in a long time I don’t have to rush.

  I shower until the water runs cold, forcing me of out my slice of heaven. Crap, that was amazing! I make a note to do that more often.

  Throwing the shower curtain back, I reach for my towel and wrap it around my head before wrapping another one around my body. The red light
blinks on my phone, indicating a missed call. I pick it up. Damnit. I press 'talk' to call Levi back and make my way into the closet to find something to wear tonight.

  "Hey, Harley! I just called you," he says, answering the phone.

  "Yeah. Sorry about that. I was in the shower." Reaching up, I grab a few tops and a pair of jeans and toss them onto my bed. "So, where should we go tonight?" I ask, releasing the towel from my grip. "I was thinking we could go get a pizza or maybe Mexican and then hit up some bars. What are your thoughts?"

  "Harley," he sighs. "I'm sorry, I can't go out tonight. Marco called in sick and I had to step in and help out in the kitchen." It’s obvious when he steps outside the restaurant because the commotion that I’d been hearing in the background disappears, replaced by the faint sound of the wind blowing into the phone.

  "Are you serious?" I whine, throwing myself back on the bed.

  "I'm sorry, Harley. Call Quinn."

  "I already did," I lament. "She has a hot date."

  "What? Really? With who?"

  "I don't know. She wouldn't tell me. Must be someone special if she's keeping it tight-lipped. Damn, this sucks. I don’t have Max for a whole weekend and I'm lying naked on a pile of really awesome clothes that I wanted to try on." Pulling myself up, I shimmy on my underwear.

  Levi doesn't respond, but I can hear him murmuring something to himself. "Levi? You there?"

  "Yup. I'm here," he responds on a deep exhale. "I'm reminding myself that you're just my friend. Only my friend. Nothing more. Right?"

  I can't stop the laugh that bubbles up my throat. "Right. If it makes you feel better, I'm putting my sweatpants on now, so I'm not naked anymore."

  "What? Why?" he asks. "You have to go and do something. Seriously, Harley, you can't sit at home and clean all weekend."

  "Well, what the hell am I supposed to do?" I ask, throwing my hand in the air. "Am I supposed to get all dolled up and go out by myself? You know me better than that. No way in hell."