by Kim Karr
I close my eyes. My muscles tense everywhere. And as we call out each other’s name in unison, my body jerks and I feel as if I’m breaking through some unknown barrier I didn’t know existed. I open my eyes to look at her as I come harder than I’ve ever experienced. I feel as if my body is exploding—as if it’s separating into smaller pieces and leaving this universe for another. The feeling scares the living shit out of me.
It takes me a few minutes to collect myself. Sweat coats my body, my cock throbs inside her, and finally I collapse next to her, unable to move. I bury my face in her neck and when I feel the air return to my lungs I kiss her softly. First her shoulder, then her neck, her jaw, and finally her mouth. She kisses me back, mimicking my own pattern. She kisses my mouth, my jaw, my neck, my shoulder. I shiver at her gentleness. Maybe that’s what’s different about her? The fucking isn’t just fucking. It’s intermixed with tenderness. I haven’t felt that in a long time. I think I missed it.
I roll off her, the weight of my odd feelings heavy on my mind. She stays silent and so do I. But I pull her to me and then tug the sheet back over us. I bury us in our cocoon where I don’t have to try to figure out what the hell is going inside my head.
I must have fallen asleep, because when she turns in her sleep, it awakens me. Her back nestles into my front and I curl my arm around her. Her skin is warm and feels incredibly comforting against mine. My fingers mindlessly play with the shamrock in her belly button.
“You asked me if I knew if the baby was a boy or a girl,” she says, and the sound of her voice surprises me.
My movement stops for the briefest of moments but then I continue to finger the ornament. “Yeah, I did.”
“What I said sounded cold. But it wasn’t like that.”
I close my eyes. “I never thought you sounded cold.”
“I loved the baby. That’s why I knew I couldn’t keep it.”
I kiss her cheek and let mine rest on hers. Inside our cocoon we can talk about anything and I know this is something that she needs to share and I need to hear.
“Knowing the sex would have made it all too real. It was better for me not to know. Can you ever understand that?”
I kiss her cheek again, leaving my lips there because I feel the wetness of her tears. Then I turn her around to face me. “I do understand, S’belle. I do.” My fingers move back to the symbol of our baby she wears to remember, although I don’t think she needs to wear the shamrock to remember. “This is a beautiful thing,” I say, circling her belly button. “But you did what you thought was best for the baby and you don’t have to take the blame alone anymore. Let me help you.”
Her tears fall and her cries grow louder and I let her get it out. Let the emotion she’s kept bottled up for all these years spill out onto me. I know we can’t change the past. I have no idea what would have happened if she had told me, and that enables me to share in the blame. I want to help her heal the wounds that she hasn’t allowed to close. My arms tighten around her and I whisper, “It’s time to let go, S’belle. It’s time to let go.”
I don’t know how much time passes, but when I feel her breathing even out, I know she’s fallen asleep. I hope when she awakes, the burden she’s carried on her shoulders will feel a little less heavy. I carefully lift the sheet and slip out to shower. When I finish I go in search of my clothes, then remember I ripped the buttons off my shirt. I creep into her closet and find a USC sweatshirt large enough for me to wear. It looks familiar and I wonder if it’s mine from so many years ago.
With a grin on my face, knowing it is, I grab my keys and hers as well. I open the door to go pick us up some food and come face-to-face with S’belle’s brother—Xander Wilde. We were in the same fraternity in college, although he’s older. I knew who he was but didn’t really know him. Last year I saw him again at Dahlia’s house when he pulled his brother off me and Caleb hauled my ass out of the room. Not one of my fondest memories—getting my ass beat. But in hindsight it was well deserved. My cocky attitude and belligerent words were more than deserving of River’s anger.
His eyes narrow as they assess me. I feel he’s trying to determine if I’m good enough for his sister. Maybe I’m aiming higher than I should. In fact, I’m sure I am because I actually feel he’s trying to determine if I’m as big a piece of shit as he believes I am. It’s how I imagine I’d feel going to pick a girl up for a first date and having to meet her father, one that already hated me. But since I dated Dahlia all through high school and I had grown up next door to her, thank fuck I never had to experience that kind of scrutiny, because this is a really uncomfortable feeling.
He steps around me and makes his way in, looking around for Bell. “Where’s my sister?”
I take a deep breath and extend my hand. “Xander.”
His eyes keep sweeping the apartment. Then he nods, extending his hand in return, allowing his eyes to settle on me for a quick second. At least he doesn’t leave me hanging. “Jack told me what happened yesterday. I stopped by to check on Bell.”
Fuck me if this couldn’t be more uncomfortable. Normally I’d have already said fuck you. But since I’ve just spent the last . . . I don’t how long . . . fucking his sister and she’s sleeping naked in the other room while he’s here to check on her, and I do want to try to earn his respect, I face his scrutiny head-on. “She seems to be fine. She said her head only hurts around the stitched area.”
His face turns red. His fists clench.
I start to wonder if he’s going to be the next one throwing a punch at me. I’m not worried for myself. I just want to prove to S’belle that I can handle the situation. So if he wants to pound the shit out of me, I’m going to let him. I need to make things right with her family, and although him throwing a punch at me isn’t ideal, it’s a start. I brace myself and fight the urge to retaliate.
“I’m going to kill that motherfucker one day,” he blurts out in a huff.
I let my tension release and nod in agreement. “My feelings exactly.”
“I had a bad feeling about him from the day I met him. I told Bell, but she always sees the good in people and couldn’t see it.”
I know there was a dig in there for me. I could hear it in his voice.
“Where is she?”
“She fell asleep—”
“I’m right here.” She pops up in the doorway fully dressed—thank fuck.
“You woke up?” I smile over at her.
Her eyes dart to my sweatshirt and she grins at me.
Xander crosses over to her and pulls her in for a tight embrace. He leans back to look at her forehead and hugs her again. “Are you okay?”
She nods.
“You sure?”
I place my hand on the door as I witness what I already knew. This girl has been loved, protected, and sheltered her whole life by a family that adores her. There is no bad in her. She’s good through and through. I wish I could say the same. A feeling that maybe she’s too good for me makes my body tremble slightly. But when she looks over to me from her brother’s arms and winks, my stomach leaps.
“I’ll leave the two of you to talk.”
She pulls away from her brother and frowns at me.
“I thought I’d go grab some food.” I quickly add, “Where is the closest Italian spot for takeout?”
She smiles and her eyes gleam.
“Vito’s. Around the corner on North La Cienega Boulevard,” Xander says.
“Thanks.” I turn the handle on the door.
“Hey, man,” he says, and I turn around. “Thanks for taking care of my sister.”
I nod and as I turn back I catch S’belle’s big green eyes shimmering with happiness.
CHAPTER 30
Roar
Bell
The thing about family is—you can love them and dislike them at the same time, and right now I’m torn at seeing Xander. I nod toward the dark clouds massing on the horizon. “Looks like another storm is coming?”
He huffs, “
I’m not here to talk about the weather.”
My brother’s stare is fierce, but I know I can be fiercer, or at least I think I can.
“I know.” I smile to lessen the tension.
His brow furrows as though he wants to say something but changes his mind.
“I quit my job.”
That earns me a smile.
“Finally,” he sighs with relief. “You know I never liked that guy. Bell, I understand you better than you think I do. I know you’re determined to prove to us that you can make it on your own. But I came over here to tell you, the thing is, you don’t have to.”
I open and shut my mouth without coming up with a response.
“You’re one of the lucky ones—don’t you get it? You have us. We’re here for you.”
He takes a step closer.
I breathe in, willing myself not to cry. “I know that.”
“Do you? Do you really know that no matter what, we love you?’
“I do.” My voice is a small squeak. So much for fierce.
“Then the next time you’re in a bad situation, I want you to tell me.” He looks around the room before continuing.
“Are we getting to the elephant in the room now?” I stand up straight and face him head-on.
His expression grows darker and truth be told, I feel a little scared. Not of him, of course, rather of him judging me. But I believe in Ben and I’m ready to take the first step. You have to crawl before you can walk, right? And Xander is going to be easier to open up to about Ben than River. So I take another deep breath. “Can we sit down? I have some things to tell you, and the first one is something I should have cleared up a long time ago.”
We’ve never spoken about the baby since the day I gave birth. But something inside me feels ready to open up to my brother in a way I’ve never felt I could before. So I tell Xander that I actually never talked to Ben, that my attempts to contact him and tell him I was pregnant were really not attempts at all. I tell him about this summer and then meeting back up with Ben a couple of months ago. I tell him that I want to see where the relationship will go. I stay strong. I tell my brother how I feel. And surprisingly he handles it okay. He isn’t thrilled, but he isn’t disappointed in me either.
When I finish, his look is unreadable.
Then he reaches across the sofa to squeeze my shoulder. “You know all I really care about is that you’re happy?”
I nod.
“And you know if you ever need me, no matter what the circumstances, I’ll be there for you in a heartbeat?”
I nod again. “I love you.”
“I love you too. Now I’m going to get out of here.” He grins at me.
I fly across the couch and hug him. “I don’t say this often, but you’re the best brother—ever.”
“I won’t tell River you said that,” he jokes.
“Oh, I tell him the same thing.” I laugh.
He just shakes his head at me in amusement.
After Xander leaves I hop in the shower. Then I decide a quick cleanup and a mood enhancer are just what we need for the night. Twenty minutes later there’s a knock at my door.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me, Ben.”
“Ben who?”
“S’belle.” He sounds a little annoyed.
I’m sure he’s worried about what Xander had to say, so I cut him some slack. “Come in.”
He opens the door carrying bags of delicious-smelling Italian food. He looks around. I’ve really outdone myself. Soft music is playing in the background, candles are lit around the room, and my green bikini is lying over the back of the sofa. He raises an eyebrow. “Déjà vu.”
I’m in the kitchen slicing lemons with two glasses of sparkling water in front of me. I drop them in the glass and smile at him. “You didn’t have to knock.”
“I wasn’t sure if your brother was still here.”
“Nope, he’s gone.”
He takes the bags and walks back out to close the door.
Did he forget something? There’s another knock on the door. Now I’m curious. I walk over and open the door just a smidge. “Yes?”
He raises the bags. “Delivery, ma’am.” He grins.
My smile grows wide and I throw open the door. “Come in. You can set the bags on the counter, but I’m not sure I have any money to pay you.”
“Ma’am, I don’t take cash anyway.”
“Oh, good, because after we eat I know just how to pay you back.”
“After?” he questions.
“Yes, sorry, but I’m starving.”
He laughs. “Me too.” He crosses to the kitchen and deposits the bags on the table.
I can’t restrain myself and I throw my arms his neck.
He pushes my wet hair to the side and kisses my neck while I press the weight of my body against him. “You smell so good,” he says.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come back.”
He takes my face in his hands as he reassures me, “Nothing would keep me away from you, even your brother camped outside the door.”
I lick the lemon juice from my fingers while giggling. “He wasn’t that bad.”
He takes my hand and sucks one of my fingers still sticky with lemon juice. “No, he wasn’t,” he agrees, moving to the next one. “If I was looking to get my balls served on a platter, he’d be just the guy I’d go to.”
The laughter is uncontrollable and I start hiccupping from the hysteria. Once I’ve calmed I tell him, “I called everyone else while you were gone, so we should be visitor free.”
“By everyone else I assume you mean your other brother, the one who isn’t going to be even a fraction as unimpressed as his older brother.”
“What did you get us to eat?” I ask, pressing against him in an attempt to change the otherwise awkward subject. And then before he can answer I lift my arms and snake them around his head. “Kiss me.”
He finds my mouth and kisses me deeply before pulling away and walking over to the table, where he set the bags. He takes a round container out. “Spaghetti and meatballs.” He takes out another. “Chicken Parmesan.” And then another. “Rigatoni.”
“Yum, but are you feeding an army?”
“I just wanted to make sure you were well fed.”
I look up and catch his glance. His face looks perfectly content and I feel the same way.
CHAPTER 31
Start of Something
Ben
I have been with many women over the past three years, but I have never spent any real length of time in their places—enough time to fuck and move on and that’s been all. So to say lying on the couch with S’belle and flipping through television channels after we’ve both stuffed ourselves with pasta, garlic knots, and salad feels unfamiliar would be telling the truth. But in a sense there is something familiar about it, in terms of the only relationship I’ve really ever had in my life, the one with Dahlia.
It isn’t that I don’t know how to be in a relationship, because obviously I do. I had been in one, the same one, for ten years. And I think for the majority of those years we were both happy together. But after that I have never wanted to seek out another relationship. It takes a lot of giving, and I think I have already proven to myself I am a taker. So why when I look at S’belle lying in front of me do I feel that at last I have something to give?
The sound of the rain outside is calming even though my thoughts are swirling around my mind. I reach for the book on the coffee table, noticing that the bookmark is gone but the book itself still has a place on the table.
“Did you finish this?” I ask her.
She turns around. “I did.”
“What did you think?”
She smirks. “That I’ll stick to romance novels.”
I gently bump the book on her head. “No, really, what did you think?”
Now she giggles.
My heart pounds a little faster whenever I hear that sound.
She sits up, waving her h
and in front of her face until she settles. “Sorry, sometimes I’m just so witty.”
I withhold my own smirk at how fucking cute she is.
“Okay, okay, so . . .” She takes a deep breath. “Here goes. At first I kept resisting the context, which made me dislike the book.”
I raise an eyebrow. “I did mention this is my favorite book. Didn’t I?”
She pouts her lips. “Let me finish.”
I blink at her. “I just had a vision of you as a teacher.”
She bends down and kisses me. Running her tongue along the inside of my lip and then catching it with her teeth. “I can be your teacher—later.”
I’m sure my eyes widen in delight.
“Now let me finish.”
Excitement starts to build within me because she’s turning me on. “Please do.”
“Okay, so once I surrendered myself to the time frame and fictional virtuosities, the story finally captured my heart. I could picture a circus of events as everything came to life in my mind.”
I raise my hand like the good student I never was.
She squares her shoulders. “Yes, Ben, you have a question.”
I bite my lip to keep from laughing. She really would be a good teacher if I ever gave her that control. “Can you explain what you mean by fictional virtuosities?”
The corners of her lips tilt up. “I can tell you’re surprised. Believe it or not, I paid attention in school.”
My laughter rasps. “I believe it.”
She continues. “A variety of personalities are portrayed in the text, including children who are smart, women who are full of grit, strong old ladies, men with confidence, fools, drunks. The book is just a cornucopia of complex characters.”
To be honest I am rightfully impressed, but I continue to play along with our little charade. “So you enjoyed it?”
“Students’ hands should always be raised.”
I pull her to me to say, “I thought we were doing this later, but if you’re ready, I think we should take it to the bedroom, where I can show you just the kind of student I am.”
She nods, breathing heavy, and then pulls the strings of the sweatshirt I’m wearing and yanks me up toward her. “You found your sweatshirt.”
