by Amy Daws
“Yeah, thanks for cooking, Finley!” Julie quips brightly, sitting down by Mitch at the table.
“Oh, I got us some wine. I’ll go grab it,” I say, heading into the kitchen.
Brody follows behind me as I knew he would. I saw that look in his eye and I knew he’d have to touch me before we could eat. Before I even get around the corner, he’s shoving up behind me and twirling me around to face him, walking me backwards into the counter. My butt hits the edge and he kisses me. Hard. Possessively. Demanding. Hot. Hot as hell. Holy shit, this kiss is hot.
“Babe, you look too good,” he says, shaking his head, his lips raw and pink.
I smile and run my thumb over his lips to wipe off the pink gloss that’s smeared all over his mouth.
“Stand down, soldier. There’s plenty of time for that later,” I say, winking at him.
I swivel in his grasp around my hips and grab two bottles of red wine. His hand creeps around to my chest and pulls my zipper down to my navel. He reaches inside and cups my breast. I stifle a moan as he kneads my breast with his hand. Oh my God, that feels so good.
“Brody,” I say, embarrassed at the moan in my tone.
He pops a quick peck on my cheek and zips my zipper back up, a lot higher than it was originally. He whispers in my ear, “Mine.” He grabs the two wine bottles and heads into the dining room.
I’m left there feeling tragically turned on and all alone. I’d like to be pissed and outraged at the possessive gesture of him zipping my zipper up so damn high, but damn, I’m too busy being way too turned on by it.
Everybody seems to be enjoying the Kansas-style meal Brody and I prepared. I feel my heart swell with pride at how great Brody is fitting in with all my roommates. Even Mitch seems to be getting pretty chummy with Brody, and Mitch doesn’t get chummy with anybody.
“So, Brody, how long are you staying?” Julie asks.
“I leave day after tomorrow,” he replies.
My heart drops as he says this. He’s leaving already? He just got here.
“What’s your plan, Finley?” Julie asks.
Damn it, Julie, can’t you just leave this alone?
“I…um…we haven’t completely worked all that out yet,” I reply.
Brody looks at me, confused and bewildered. I shift in my seat as his expression turns from confused to angry.
“I, uh…think Brody and Finley still have a lot of catching up to do,” Leslie says, trying to break the tension. Bless her.
Frank starts up a random conversation about Zoey, the bartender at the pub, and how he heard she had sex with a customer in the bathroom while working. That seems to distract us all for a while, but I can feel Brody’s eyes boring into me, searching for answers. Answers I don’t yet have.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“To the pub?” Frank asks.
“Yes!” Julie squeals.
Mitch and Leslie both nod in agreement.
“You up for it?” I ask Brody, as we finish loading the last few dishes in the dishwasher.
“If you want to, that’s fine,” he says, a bit sadly.
I shake my head, grab his hand, and walk him out of the kitchen and away from the roommates. When we’re in the living room alone, I stand directly in front of him and put my hands on his cheeks so he looks at me.
“Brody, we have more talking to do. We do. But I’m trying to show you my world here right now. Can we just have one more night? One more night of carefree us? And then figure everything out after that?” I ask, kissing his lips chastely.
He half smiles back at me.
“Okay, I guess that could work,” he replies.
I shove him back, slightly, “Lighten up, babe. You’re about to get a glimpse of your first legitimate old English pub.”
He laughs and pulls me into him for a great big bear hug.
***
“This is it?” Brody says, as we stroll into the pub twenty minutes later.
“This is iiiiiit!” Frank sings, spreading his arms out wide. “Zoey! A round of drinks for my mates!”
“Stuff it, Frank!” she shouts back at him.
“You stuff it, Wench!” he says, guiding us to our usual table. “She has a thing for me, the poor gal. What can I say? I’m irresistible.”
I laugh as he wafts his tall orange fuzzy hair.
“Here’s yours, Fin-Bin,” he says, handing me a tall dark beer.
I smile back at him and watch Brody as Frank hands him the same thing. His eyes smile at me as he takes a long drink. He looks so great tonight in his grey pants and white button-down. I have to hold myself back from kissing the tiny chest hairs that poke out at the top of his two open buttons.
Our group looks a tad fashionable for the regulars around here, but no one seems to notice or care. There are still the standard old geezers bellied up to the bar, and the jukebox is playing some kind of Irish rock and a college-aged group is shooting pool in the far corner.
“Confession time!” Frank announces to the table on our second round of beers when everyone is starting to feel pretty happy and loose.
Frank drops his head down onto the table, and shoots it up quickly, “I saw Brody naked in the hallway today!”
Squeals erupt from Julie and Leslie.
“And he has the most magnificent bum…I’ve ever seen.”
A cacophony of cackles continue and Brody just smiles, smugly, like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
“I feel so much better getting that out, guys. I’ve been bursting with this for hours and I just can’t keep it in anymore. I saw his bum…I saw his bum and I saw his man candy in full salute…God that feels good getting it out! You all must know how glorious it was!”
Brody lets out a hearty laugh and turns red and even Mitch appears amused. I smile looking amongst my friends and feeling grateful that Brody seems to be handling all this so effortlessly.
“Thanks for the high praise, Frank. What can I say?” he laughs again and raises his eyebrows at me in a flirty gesture.
“You can say whatever you want with an arse like that, mate. Feel very free to walk around naked in my house anytime,” Frank sighs, taking a big drink of his beer.
“Or not!” I say, finally having enough of this banter. I walk over to Brody and sit on his lap. I grab his chin with my hand and turn it toward me.
“I think I’d prefer to keep your wobbly bits to myself if it’s all the same to you.” I finish, with a dramatic smacking kiss to his lips.
When I pull away from his lips, his eyes are crinkled at the edges with his beaming smile.
“That’s the only way I want it, babe,” he says, looking me in the eyes. His smile is so incredibly happy and content, I can’t help but grin right back at him.
“Enough, already! You’re making me sick over here!” Leslie says, with dramatic tone.
She gets a naughty look in her eyes that makes me nervous.
“If we’re doing confessions, Brody, I have to know…have to know! What the fucking hell were you doing with Oldie Oli’ on Facebook?” she says, my heart drops and my eyes turn wide.
Leslie registers my shocked expression and her jaw drops, “Have you guys not discussed this?” she asks.
I silently shake my head no, and tension creeps all over my body.
“Who’s Oldie Oli’?” Brody asks.
I shake my head angrily at Leslie for opening her big mouth. I wanted to have this conversation alone with Brody to dig a bit deeper into the whole Olivia thing. If I’m being honest with myself, I still get the willies just thinking about him being with her. But I was taking everything slowly with him because of the whole Liam thing. I didn’t feel like I had a right to accuse him of anything about Olivia. Not yet, anyway. I definitely didn’t plan on having this conversation at a table full of my roommates.
“Olivia, from college. I don’t know her last name,” Leslie answers, despite my fierce look in her direction.
Brody starts laughing and I turn and glare at him.
“Yes, actually,” he laughs some more.
What the hell is so funny about this?
“Explain, Brody!” I bark at him, unable to contain my jealousy anymore.
“I wasn’t with Olivia. God, you guys call her Oldie Oli’? I totally get it. That’s really funny.” He wipes an imaginary tear from his cheek, then continues, “I happened to run into Olivia when I was out with Mark one night. She was with a bunch of people from our college graduate class, so we all hung out for a while.”
“I’m failing to see the funny part of this story, Brody,” I say, flatly.
“I made Mark take those photos with Olivia because I wanted to make you jealous. And it totally worked,” he says, laughing again.
Still not feeling any relief, I say, “So wait, you guys weren’t together?”
“No!” he says, with a little look of disgust on his face that pleases me greatly.
I look over at Leslie and tilt my head, “Did I just get played, Les?”
“I’d say you did, Fin-Bin! Like a fiddle.” She’s laughing with Brody now and I’m just sitting there stunned.
Brody tweaks my sides and I squirm in his arms, “Oh, come on, Finley. I’m here now, that’s all that matters, right?”
He pulls my face down to his and kisses me.
“Barf!” Leslie cries out, “I’m going to go put something on that we can dance to so I don’t have to watch you two go at it all night! Plus, this jumpsuit deserves a dance,” she says, shimmying her butt over to the jukebox.
When Meatloaf breaks over the pub’s speakers, I leap off Brody’s lap and run over to Leslie, flailing wildly. My dad was a huge classic rock fan and Leslie and I grew really fond of it as a result of him booming it throughout our whole house growing up.
Julie joins Leslie and me on the dance floor and I’m laughing and having a ball, dancing and singing our hearts out. Brody watches me with the same happy, content smile that makes me melt from the inside out. We can figure this out. We can make this work.
When the guys join us on the dance floor, I know it’s only a matter of time before we head back home. Brody’s moves are so good that I’m afraid I’ll have a Leslie-moment on his leg if I’m not careful.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Brody and I walk back to the house hand in hand. I can’t believe I only have two more nights with him. My heart already aches at the idea of him leaving.
He’s making it completely impossible for me to open the front door because he’s standing directly in front of it, kissing me like his life depends on it. I reach around his hips and fumble the key into the door. “I’ll race you to my room,” I whisper into his ear. He whips the door open behind him and we both fall into the house. I kick off my wedges and start sprinting up the steps. He stops directly in front of me and I smack into his back and fall to the side, whacking my elbow on the railing.
“OW! Damn it!” I say, giggling and rubbing my elbow.
He stops and cages me in against the railing.
“Poor baby,” he says, and bends over to kiss it. “And poor loser.”
He runs up the steps again. I laugh and race up after him.
When I get to the third floor, he’s breathing heavily against my bedroom door, but his smile has faded. The only way to describe his look right now is…desire.
I walk up to him, my chest rising and falling as I attempt to catch my breath.
His expression turns serious as he looks down at my shirt. He grabs the zipper and pulls it down slowly. The zipping sound is loud in the quiet hallway. When he spreads my shirt open, revealing my sheer teal bra, he smiles knowingly as my chest rises for very different reasons now.
He quickly claims my mouth with his soft lips and we shed all of our clothes, frantically pushing through the doorway and onto the mattress.
After working me up to a state of fervor with his magical fingers, he sits back for a moment on his knees and grabs a condom out of his wallet in his jeans pocket.
“I love you so much, Finley. I love us so much,” he says, as he situates himself on top of me.
I didn’t have the heart earlier to tell him not to bother buying them, and right now all I want is him inside of me. He rolls it on himself and enters me slowly and holds still inside of me. I lift my head off the pillow and he threads his fingers through my hair and grips a handful, tightly.
“Brody!” I cry, rocking my hips against him, begging for him to move inside of me.
He tilts his head and looks at me seriously, and then begins thrusting in and out of me at a slow, leisurely pace. I grab his hair roughly, desperate for more movement, desperate for a release. Desperate for everything.
He pulls me up by my waist as he sits back on his knees and lets me ride him. He gently lifts his butt up and down as I swivel against him. He groans loudly in response.
“Yeah, baby, just like that. Move just like that. I love how you do it just like that.”
I work myself into a fervor watching his erotic facial expressions. Every once in a while he looks straight into my eyes with all the adoration in the world and it’s enough to break my heart. I feel a tear slip down my cheek and I shake it away.
His brow furrows and he rubs his thumb over my damp face.
“Baby,” he says.
“Stay with me, Brody,” I cry out softly into the room.
“Of course, Finley. I’ll always stay with you,” he says, looking at me with a slight look of alarm.
“No, I mean it, Brody,” I say, stopping my motion on top of him, “I need you to promise you’ll stay with me,” I swallow. “No matter what.”
He’s looking at me, concerned now.
“What is it, baby? Tell me,” he says, pushing my long brown hair out of my face and dropping a soft kiss to my lips.
“I can’t, Brody.” I shake my head and two more tears slip their way down my cheeks. I hug him and bury my face into his shoulder to prevent him from looking at me.
“Why are you crying, Finley?” he says, obviously anxious now, while stroking my back.
I can’t take his comfort. It’s too much. Air rushes out of my mouth as I fight a sob back. My body starts to tremble in his arms.
“Please, Finley. Tell me. I can’t handle this anymore,” he says as he pulls me away from his shoulder with both hands on my cheeks. “What can’t you do?”
“I can’t have a baby,” I cry, my voice cracking at the end. I close my eyes tight unable to find the strength to see his reaction.
“I don’t understand, Finley,” he says, shaking his head and dropping two more feather-light kisses on my face.
I muster up the strength to open my eyes and say my piece, “I met with a doctor, Brody. A fertility doctor. He told me…he told me to look into…adoption.” Just saying that word out loud stings because it feels so final. “They did tests, Brody! Tons of shitty, horrifying tests. He told me my body can’t have children and there was nothing they could do to help us. We’d be fighting a losing battle if we kept trying.”
Brody’s hands grip my arms and he moves me off of him, shaking his head, confusingly.
“You did all of this without me?” he asks, raking his hand through his curls and turning away from me.
I rush over and perch on my knees beside him, holding onto his arm.
“I couldn’t tell you, Brody! I knew it was me, I could feel it in my bones…something was wrong with my body.” I look at him, pleadingly, urging him to look back at me, to no avail.
“I was embarrassed! Ashamed, I don’t know. I just knew I had to know the truth I was feeling in my heart.”
He shakes his head, continuing to look at the floor.
“I can’t believe you. Why are you only telling me this now?” he asks, with an eerie calm to his voice.
I let go of his arm and sit back on my butt, wrapping my arms around my legs. “Because you need to know why I left, Brody. This was why I left us. I can’t
do it. I can’t give you a baby. I’m less of a woman. And right now,” I say, looking up into his eyes, intensely, “Even right now, I’m terrified of that look on your face. You want out of this now, don’t you? Now that you know the truth, you don’t want me! That’s why I left; I didn’t want to wait around for you to just leave…leave me!” My voice is quaking.
“You,” he sighs, deeply, closing his eyes. “You left because you thought I wouldn’t want you if you couldn’t give me a baby?”
I shrug my shoulders, “I know how important it is to you, Brody. Babies, a family, all of it. It was our dream. It was all we talked about. Our own little us baby. It’s all I ever dreamed of with you and the fact that I can never give you that was too much for me to handle, Brody! It was too much, I was too hurt. I couldn’t stomach…”
“You couldn’t stomach what?” he barks.
My head snaps up to see his stony expression.
“I couldn’t stomach the idea of you not wanting me anymore once you learned the truth! I couldn’t stomach the idea of you looking at me the way you are now!” I say hurriedly.
He lets out a hard huff of air and stands up.
“What are you doing, Brody?” I ask.
He’s shaking his head and I can see the anger vibrating off his body. He grabs his pants and puts his legs through the holes. He huffs again as he pulls the condom off and drops it on the floor.
“Brody! Speak!” I cry.
“If I speak right now, I’ll fucking ruin you, Finley!” he roars at me, and I flinch at the volume of his voice in my small, quiet room.
“You promised, Brody! You said you’d stay with me! I begged you to stay with me!” I cry again, standing up and holding the sheet to my chest, feeling suddenly embarrassed of my body.
“That was before I knew you thought so little of me, that you’d think I’d fucking leave you if you couldn’t give me a child. God, Finley! It’s like you don’t even know me!” he snaps, as he finishes buttoning his shirt and throws his clothes into his suitcase.
“What are you doing? Why are you packing?” I ask, my voice rising alarmingly high.
