He chuckled softly before he dropped his weight to his elbows, cradling her face in his hands as he kissed her. He was still incredibly gentle, but the tension had left his body too. He moved freely now, and his breath grew ragged, washing across her face every time he exhaled. Lauren lifted her chin, savoring the feel of it.
They began moving in unison, Lauren raising her hips to meet him, and it drew the most incredible sounds from his lips.
She could feel the smooth skin of his stomach brushing against hers, the tautness of his muscles as his arms flexed around her, pulling her closer, the silky friction between her legs, the warm rush of his breath on her skin.
It was sensory overload.
And when she felt his body go tense again, this time he fell forward, groaning into her hair, and she smiled.
There were no bells and whistles for her. No explosions. No seeing stars. But she wouldn’t have changed a thing.
It was the single most incredible experience of her life.
When Michael finally caught his breath, he slowly rolled off of her, immediately pulling her back against his chest. Lauren closed her eyes, and for a few minutes they just lay there in silence as Michael held her, running his fingertips up and down her arm.
“I feel like I should say thank you, but that doesn’t seem right,” she said lazily.
Michael laughed softly behind her. “Thank you? Are you gonna leave some money on the dresser on your way out?”
She probably should have been embarrassed, but all she could do was laugh. She was completely drunk with him; her body felt deliciously warm and heavy. “You know what I mean,” she sighed.
He pulled her further against his chest. “I know.” He pressed his lips into her hair and whispered, “And if anyone should be saying thank you, it’s me.”
She turned her head and looked up at him, but there was no laughter behind his eyes.
She lifted her chin and kissed him gently before snuggling back against him.
They laid there in comfortable silence, Michael continuing to trail his fingertips over her skin, and Lauren wished there was a way to stop time. She just wanted to stay where she was.
And she desperately wished he could stay where he was.
“What time are you leaving tomorrow?” she asked, hating the words as they left her mouth.
“Early. Probably sun up.”
Lauren glanced over at the clock on his nightstand. It was almost midnight.
She swallowed, trying to keep her voice even. “Should I go then?”
Michael shook his head behind her. “I’m not ready for you to go.”
Lauren closed her eyes. “Me either,” she sighed.
And she fell asleep right there in his arms, with him planting feather-light kisses in her hair.
She was half asleep and the sun hadn’t fully risen when she felt a hand brushing the hair away from her face.
She was too tired to open her eyes, but all at once, the memory of where she was and what had happened came back to her.
“Are you mad at me?” she murmured sleepily.
“No. I could never be mad at you.” His voice seemed far away, even though he was right next to her.
Maybe she was dreaming.
She felt him press his forehead to hers. Her eyes were still closed, but she smiled.
“Call me when you get there.”
For a second, there was only silence.
And just as she lost the battle with sleep, she heard his faint whisper. “Good-bye, Lauren.”
A few hours later, the sun was shining through his window, bathing her in warmth and light, and she finally opened her eyes. Lauren vaguely remembered having a conversation with him earlier that morning, but she wasn’t sure if she had dreamed it or not.
But she knew what had happened between them the night before wasn’t a dream, and she recalled every detail with perfect clarity, grinning like a fool as she buried her face in his pillow.
She stood up, grabbed her things, got dressed, and straightened his sheets, smiling the entire time.
And when she slid into the driver’s seat of her car, she closed the door, dropped her head back, covered her face with her hands, and screamed.
She had never done drugs before, but she could imagine being high felt this way, and she could understand why people got addicted to it. Her body tingled, she couldn’t stop smiling, and as she drove home, she alternated between wanting to close her eyes and melt back into the seat, or slam on the brakes, jump out of the car, and run squealing in circles around it.
On her way home she called Jenn to corroborate stories about where she’d been the night before, and when she told her what had happened, Jenn shrieked with excitement, ever the good friend, and offered to come over later to celebrate.
Lauren made it home, existing somewhere in a vacuum and functioning on autopilot. She cleaned her room. She baked cookies. She took a nap. She rehashed every detail with Jenn several times over. And that night, she called Michael.
But there was no answer. Nor did he answer her call the following morning.
Or that afternoon.
By the following night, she started to panic, thinking maybe he’d gotten into an accident, that something had gone wrong.
And just as she was planning her last resort, calling Jay to see if she could get a hold of him, she got his e-mail.
How he guessed he hadn’t made himself clear the last time they had spoken. That if he was really going to start over, he’d need some time away from everything in his past to do it—and that included her. He pointed out how busy she’d be with her senior year coming up, and he assured her she’d hardly miss him. He reminded her that he’d moved to New York to get some distance, and she needed to respect that. He ended the short note by saying that when he finally had everything figured out, he’d be the one to contact her.
But she never heard from Michael Delaney again.
January 2012
Lauren had just finished chopping the vegetables for a stir-fry when her cell phone rang. She quickly wiped her hands on the dish towel over her shoulder before she reached across the counter and grabbed it.
Then she froze, watching Adam’s number flashing on the screen.
She stood that way, trying to ignore the unpleasant feeling in her stomach. She just needed a minute to get her bearings. Just a few more seconds to pull it together. Then she’d answer.
That’s what she told herself as she stood there, watching the number flash to the beat of her ringtone until finally he was redirected to her voice mail.
It was a spineless move. She knew that. Avoiding him wouldn’t solve anything. But she just needed a little more time to sort out her feelings.
Lauren closed her eyes and exhaled heavily as she put the phone back on the counter. Who was she kidding? There was nothing for her to sort out. She just wasn’t ready to say the words she knew she would have to say to him now.
Adam had invited her over for dinner the night before, and their date started off like all the others. Fun. Romantic. Comfortable. Essentially perfect.
Throughout dinner, as they’d talked and laughed, Lauren kept reminding herself that they’d been dating for almost two months. That he’d been more than patient. That he was a great guy and she was attracted to him and there was no reason to put it off any longer.
She held on to those thoughts for the entire evening, trying to convince herself she wasn’t about to sleep with Adam because she was desperate to distance herself from Michael.
But at the end of the evening, as they headed back to his bedroom, she knew that’s exactly what she was doing. When she weighed the fear of what would happen when she slept with Adam against what would happen if she didn’t put a stop to her growing feelings for Michael, her choice was clear, even if it was reprehensible.
As Adam touched her, kissed her, whispered the sweetest things in her ear, she clung desperately to the hope that once she gave herself over to him, it would become about Adam,
about how much she liked him, about how perfect she knew they were for each other.
He did everything right. He was slow, and skilled, and so incredibly attentive.
And she’d felt absolutely nothing.
But that was how it always happened. She would meet a man. She would flirt and laugh and feel attracted to him.
It would all feel so normal.
They’d get to know each other. She’d start to like him. Everything would progress exactly the way it was supposed to, and she’d start to believe that maybe this time things would be different.
Then they’d sleep together, and she’d feel completely hollow.
And everything would fall apart.
Lauren was always upset when it happened, but with Adam, she was devastated. She’d managed to convince herself that he would be the exception; that he was going to be everything she’d been waiting for.
That with him, she wouldn’t feel so broken.
And as she drove home the following morning, all she could think about was how she wished she had put it off just a little longer, because she wasn’t ready to let go of Adam yet.
But now that she’d felt it, the palpable emptiness as she gave herself to him, she knew it was over. She couldn’t bring herself to do it again. Lauren had tried that method in the past: giving it time, trying to push past it, to work around it, attempting to make herself feel something other than the void that sex created for her. But it was almost degrading, going through the motions, letting a man do things to her body while her mind and her heart felt completely detached.
Maybe she just needed to accept the fact that she was one of those people who couldn’t become emotionally invested in sex. Maybe she was incapable of bridging the gap between her heart and her body. Maybe this was as good as it was going to get for her.
Lauren might have been able to believe that about herself if she couldn’t still remember what it was like to be with Michael. But she could still call to mind the indescribable feeling: something far beyond just physical sensation. Something that had been so powerful, so completely consuming, it moved her to tears.
And somehow, realizing she might never feel that way again was more painful than believing she was incapable of feeling it to begin with.
With a deep breath, Lauren walked back to the stove. She shouldn’t be thinking about that night with Michael.
She shouldn’t be thinking about Michael at all, for that matter.
And with that, she picked up the cutting board and slid the chopped vegetables into the pan, letting the subsequent sizzle temporarily wash away the two men who were battling for control of her thoughts.
She ate her dinner on the couch, distracting herself with an old sitcom rerun, and afterward, as she was loading the dishwasher, her phone rang again.
With a little lump of dread in her stomach, Lauren leaned over and checked the display. When she saw that it was Jenn, she felt only marginally relieved.
She didn’t feel like having this conversation either, but there was no avoiding it. If she sent Jenn to voice mail, she’d just keep calling back.
With a tiny sigh, Lauren hit the button to take the call, holding the phone between her shoulder and her ear as she continued rinsing dishes.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
“Just cleaning up from dinner. You?”
“Driving home from a late meeting. Total pain in my ass,” Jenn sighed. “How was your date last night? Did you finally put out?”
Lauren took a breath. Might as well get it over with. “Yes.”
“You did!” Jenn laughed. “Oh my God, I was only kidding! Well, it’s about time. Adam’s probably skipping through the streets whistling zip-a-dee-doo-dah as we speak.”
A tiny laugh escaped Lauren’s lips.
“Sooo, how was it? Worth the wait?”
She knew what Jenn was going to accuse her of: trying to get out before things got too serious. She wouldn’t understand, but then again, how could she?
“I don’t think it’s going to work out,” Lauren said as she closed the door to the dishwasher.
“No!” Jenn whined. “Lauren, don’t do this! Come on, are you telling me the sex was that bad?”
“No, it wasn’t bad. It was just…not what I expected.”
“So? It was your first time with him! You need a little time to learn each other. Give the poor guy a break.”
“It’s not about the sex,” Lauren said. “It’s more about…I don’t know. The connection.”
“The connection,” Jenn deadpanned.
“I just, I don’t feel it. I can’t keep sleeping with a guy I don’t feel connected to.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone, and for a second, Lauren thought maybe Jenn was sympathizing with her this time. But then her voice came through the phone, tinged with anger.
“I can’t believe you.”
“What?” Lauren said, confused.
“You’re doing it again. Only this time it’s worse. You’re not doing it because of him. You’re doing it for him.”
Lauren shook her head. “What are you talking about?”
This was not how this conversation usually went. Jenn was supposed to be reprimanding her for her commitment issues, complaining about her fear of settling down. And while Jenn would usually sound disappointed during these rants, she never once sounded angry the way she did right now.
“Really? You’re gonna make me say it?” she challenged. “Michael, Lauren. You’re doing it for Michael.”
Lauren opened her mouth to respond, but nothing would come out.
“You’re falling in love with him again, aren’t you.”
It was more of a statement than a question, like she didn’t need Lauren’s answer to confirm it.
“I knew this was going to happen!” Jenn cried at Lauren’s extended silence. “Goddamn it, Lauren!”
“So what if I am?” Lauren blurted out. She didn’t even know if there was any truth to what Jenn said, but she suddenly felt extremely defensive.
“You’re really asking me that?” Jenn said, her voice incredulous. “After what he did to you? I can’t believe you’d be this stupid!”
Lauren ripped the phone from her ear and ended the call, slamming it down onto the counter. She didn’t want to hear anymore. The absolute last thing she needed right now was to be scolded like a child.
The phone rang again, and she lunged forward, swiping it from the counter.
“What?” she shouted.
“Whoa. Is this a bad time?”
Lauren dropped her head and exhaled heavily.
“Sorry,” she said, bringing her hand to her forehead. “I thought you were someone else.”
“Well shit,” Michael said with a laugh. “I’m glad I’m not whoever you were expecting.”
Lauren sighed, trying to regain her composure.
“Hey,” he said, his voice turning serious. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“No you’re not.”
When Lauren didn’t respond, Michael asked, “Are you home?”
“Mm-hm.”
“I’ll be there in twenty.”
Lauren whipped her head up. “No, no, don’t do that.”
But he’d already hung up.
She stared at the phone for a second before she dropped her head back, her arms falling limply to her sides. “Fantastic,” she exhaled at the ceiling.
She tossed her phone onto the counter, vowing to never answer it again for as long as she lived, and then she padded across the kitchen and opened her refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of Kendall Jackson.
She poured herself a glass, holding it up in a one-sided toast. “To complete and utter dysfunction,” she said, taking almost half of it down.
By the time there was a knock on her door, Lauren was already on her second glass.
“Come in,” she called from where she sat on the living room floor.
Sh
e heard the door open, and she turned her head to see him standing in the entryway.
“You didn’t have to come here.”
“I know that,” he said, removing his jacket.
Lauren nodded, looking down to run her finger along the top of her wine glass. “Where’s Erin?”
“She ditched me tonight,” he said, laying his jacket over a chair before he walked into the living room. “She’s having a girls’ night with our neighbor.”
“That’s sweet,” Lauren said. “I didn’t know you had a little girl next door.”
Michael laughed. “Little girl? Mrs. Brigante is sixty years old. Apparently girls’ nights have no age restrictions. But still, no boys allowed.”
Lauren laughed, taking another sip of wine.
“So, whatever it is, it must be pretty bad if you’re drinking alone.”
Lauren shrugged. “Well then go get a glass and make me a little less pathetic.”
He smiled down at her sympathetically, and then he turned and made his way into the kitchen. She heard him opening cabinets until he found the right one, and then he walked back into the living room and sat on the floor next to her with his back up against the couch.
Lauren leaned over and grabbed the bottle, pouring some into his glass. For a minute, they just sat next to each other in silence.
Then Lauren said, “This is oddly familiar. Only it used to be whiskey.”
Michael smiled. “And it used to be straight out of the bottle. We’ve classed it up a bit, apparently.”
Lauren laughed. “And it used to be you that was being consoled.”
“Yeah, well. That’s because I was always the fuck-up.”
“No, it was because you always dated whores.”
Michael smiled half-heartedly, looking down at his glass. “Not all of them were.”
She turned her head to look at him, realizing how offensive that last comment must have been. One of those women had been the mother of his child.
“Will you tell me about Erin’s mom?” she asked softly.
Michael licked his lips, his eyes still on his glass. “There’s not that much to tell. Her name’s Samantha. I met her at a party. She was a friend of a friend and we just…clicked,” he said, lifting his glass and taking a long sip.
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