by Roxy Queen
When he turns to speak to someone, I chicken out. My heart has fallen to the pit of my stomach and I kiss the girls goodbye, making my excuses to their mom. Before he can reach me, before I have to face him again, I run away.
Chapter 20
“Remind me why we’re here?”
A group of kids run by and Finley covers her ears, drowning out the screaming. We’re at one of those horrible bouncy places people take their kids to when they have reached the bottom pit of desperation. I am beyond that place. It’s a beautiful day. Blue sky greets us in all directions and it’s not even that hot. We should be at the pool. Instead we’re here.
“Because I’m avoiding Aqua-Man.”
Finley pushes her hair over her shoulder and looks at me like I’m a fool. She’s right, I am a fool, but I’m not backing down. “And why are you avoiding him?”
“Because I think he likes me.”
She nods. “I think you’re right. I’m pretty sure he fell in ‘like’ with you the minute you touched his dick.” I drop my head in my hands. God, I’m such an idiot. Finley, of course, isn’t done. “Or maybe when you put it in your mouth, or when you screwed him in your car or in the locker room—“
“Shhhh!”
She rolls her eyes, but lowers her voice to a whisper. “Or any of the dozen or so other places you schooled him on how to be a super sexy mofo.”
“You encouraged me!”
“I did and I still do. Who cares if he likes you? He likes your ass. And your mouth. And those boobs. God you have the best boobs,” she sighs. “He’s eighteen. He’s resilient.”
“Do you really think so?” The real question is, am I?
“Yes, I really do, but if you end it like this, all awkward and weird he’ll always think he did something wrong. Just be honest with him. You have from the beginning.”
“What if I break his heart?”
She scoffs. “That kid is going to break a thousand hearts freshman year alone. That smile? It’s killer. He will cut a swath through sorority row that will never recover from the likes of him—especially after all the ammo you gave him. One bruised heart from you won’t kill him—it’ll make him stronger.”
Maggie walks over to us, limping on one foot. Huge tears fall down her cheeks. “That girl pushed me and my knee got hurt and I’m bleeding everywhere!” All of this came out in between hiccups.
“Whatever you do, fix it fast,” she says, inspecting Maggie’s injured knee. “I want to go back to the pool.”
*
I brace myself on the ride to the pool, in the parking lot, and as we walk through the gate. All my preparations and fretting are worthless in the end. He’s not here.
We hang around through the shift changes and Carter never shows. It’s Tuesday and he always works on Tuesdays and I’m about to sneak into the guard room to check the schedule but I don’t.
Because this is what I want. This is over. We’re done. Summer has come to an end and everything has gone according to plan. I seduced Aqua-Man, showed him the ropes, had amazing sex and now we both move on.
Too bad I feel like shit.
Too bad I’m horny as hell and would give anything for a quickie in the bathhouse. Or even his car.
I push aside my real desire. To have him in my bed one more time.
“I’m such an idiot,” I mutter.
“What?” Finley asks from the chair beside her.
“I’m an idiot, okay? This whole thing with Aqua-Man. Fucking stupid. I’m so stupid, I can’t believe I let it get to this point. I feel horrible.”
Finley swings her legs around and faces me. “I know you feel bad, but we talked about this. He’ll be okay.”
I shift my eyes away and nod.
“Wait,” she says with narrowed eyes. “You’re an idiot because you fell for him!”
I look around and say, “Shhh!”
“You did. I knew it.” She stops gloating and frowns. “Oh honey, oh God. You fell for him. He dickmatized you.”
“What?”
“He hypnotized you with his dick.”
I start to shake my head and deny it but a big, fat, stupid tear rolls down my cheek instead. “It’s not his fault. I’m a sucker for good dick, you know? I’m such a moron.”
“Yeah,” she says, rubbing my back. “A little bit, but he’s pretty great.”
I wipe my nose with the corner of my beach towel. “Dammit. I’m going to the bathroom and when I get back we’re not talking about this anymore, okay?”
“Deal.”
The bathhouse mirror reveals that I’m a blotchy mess. I blow my nose and splash cold water on my face to relieve the swelling and hope the sunglasses hide the rest. I’m on my way out when I hear his deep laugh. There’s no mistaking the high-pitched, obnoxious voice of the person he’s talking to and I press myself against the wall where they can’t see me.
Bikini Mom.
This day just keeps getting worse.
“So you’re off to school?” she asks. It comes out as a coo, and I fight the bile rising in the back of my throat.
“I leave tomorrow, just came by to get my final check.”
“You’ll have so much fun,” she says. “Pledging?”
“Yeah, Rush starts this weekend. My dad is a Kappa Sig, so I’ll probably lean that way.”
“Fraternity boys. God, I miss those days,” she laughs, flirty and in what I’m sure she thinks is a seductive voice. “You’re single, right? You’re not leaving anyone special behind?”
I freeze, waiting to hear his reply.
“Uh, well…sort of? We agreed to see other people at school, you know, that kind of thing.”
“Keep your options open,” she purrs.
His answer and voice sound sad but I can’t hear what he says next because a group of kids push past me to enter the bathhouse. When I peek around the corner, he’s gone.
*
Can you come over?
To your house?
My apartment—yeah
Now?
When you can—I’ll be here.
Give me twenty—I need a shower
Twenty-three minutes later, still smelling of soap and shampoo, Carter Hightower stands in my living room. He’s wearing a blue hoodie with his jersey number, peeling from repeated wash, over his heart. Mesh sports shorts and athletic shoes with the laces undone. Calm and casual. If he could only hear my heart right now. I want to run but there’s no way to get past him. Everything about Carter is big and he takes up too much space for a boy his age. He’s all arms and legs. His broad shoulders seem to press against the walls. I’ve had him in many confined spaces, but this room seems to cage him more than anything else. I never want to do that to him. I want him free, the way he is underwater or flying through the air.
“So,” he says, hands shoved deep in his pockets. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I wasn’t feeling well,” I lie, even though it’s not completely untrue.
He reaches for my waist with those long arms and closes the distance, because this is how we communicate—through the physical. “You okay?”
“I think so. Maybe.” I sigh. “I don’t know.”
“This is harder than I thought.”
“Way harder.”
“I thought maybe we wouldn’t see each other again,” he says.
“I thought maybe the same thing, but I just wanted to see you one last time,” I tell him, knowing this isn’t good for either of us
“Right.” He presses his forehead to mine. “I leave in the morning. My mom was kind of pissed I left tonight—the last night at home and everything.”
Regardless of right or wrong, I pull him down by the strings of his hoodie and kiss him. He tastes so good. Beyond the toothpaste I can taste him. Carter. And he’s delicious. I take his hand and lead him to my bedroom. He smiles at the sight and sprawls across the bed immediately, taking up all the space. His feet dangle from the end and his arms are much wider than the
mattress. He looks even stranger here than in the other room, but when he tugs me down on the bed I don’t resist. I didn’t call him here to break his heart. I called him here to finish what I started.
“This is much better than the back of my car.” He kisses me, his fingers already exploring my skin. “Although, no complaints.”
“No,” I say. “None.”
I let him crawl on top of me; I let him take the lead. It feels right. It is right, because for once this isn’t about me. He sets the pace when he undresses me and I follow his motions. We peel off each other’s clothes. His hoodie and my tank go first, then our shorts. Carter sits on his knees above me, fingering the lace strap of my bra when I say, “Can I tell you something?”
He nods, eyes half-glazed by lust. Some things never change.
I prop up on my elbows, which may not be the best decision because my cleavage becomes even bigger and his eyes are glued to my chest. I’m preparing to say something really big, but I’m not sure how much of it I want him to retain.
“I never thought I’d be here. Like right here, in my bed with you,” I say. “I saw you that first day I brought the girls to the pool and I thought, ‘Holy shit, who is that?’ and it only took a minute to hear the moms and kids and anyone else around talking about you. Carter Hightower. Lifeguard, athlete, graduating senior. Talented, good looking, confident, blah, blah, blah. All I saw was this kid who was too freaking hot for his own damn good.” I touch his chin. “God, Carter, you are so beautiful.”
He looks a little uncomfortable, so I let him kiss me, but I can tell he gets what I’m saying because his kiss is sweet and soft. “So, after a couple of awkward moments between us, I decided to go for it. Take a shot. Why not? All you could say was no, right?”
He laughs. “Yeah, there is no way I was ever saying no to you.”
“But you could have.” His fingers tug at my bra, and his touch makes me burn. He’s being all slow about it which is different, but nice and I start to ramble. “I’ve watched you all summer. Especially when you’re on the diving board and you do all your flips and complicated dives. You have such a sense of peace about you when you’re up there—or anywhere near the water. And I love to watch you push yourself. You’re so strong. Not just physically, but mentally as well. You don’t seek perfection; you’re trying to make your body and mind reach greater limits.”
He stops and rests his forehead on mine. “Why do you say that?”
“Because even though you’re flying though the air, soaring like a bird, and it’s pretty, there’s also a sense of danger and wildness beneath your movements. Sometimes you’re almost feral.” I tug the top of his head. “You never stick the landing. It’s always messy. Your arms and legs fling out of control, like you decide at the last minute to do something spontaneous. It’s like when we do this.” The whole time I’m talking, he’s continued to undress me. Pulling off my panties, unclasping my bra. His cock presses into me. “Everything is measured until we get to the good part—to the ending. Then it’s like the beast has arrived and strips all sense of control away from you.”
He runs his fingers over my flesh, dipping between my legs. He kisses my neck and chest before lingering on my breasts, smiling around the nipple.
He’s adorable and I fight to catch my breath. “That lack of control is why a woman my age is in bed with a man your age. Everything in my life is about control and doing the right thing and getting a job and a degree and paying my bills. Finding a husband. Planning for babies. You’re the opposite of all that. It’s why I crave your body and your skin and your touch.”
He pushes in me, slow and deliberate. I still have things to say, but now they come out disjointed, because he’s moving deep and nice. “You’re wild now, Carter, but you are so much more than that. You are really, really awesome. And you are going to do such great things in your life.” I say all this while he fucks me, no, no, not fucking, making love. While he loves me. “But this is why we aren’t right for each other. My time for spontaneity is over. I’ve got obligations and responsibilities and a failed relationship hanging around my neck.”
I tip his chin up with my finger, forcing him to look me in the eyes. “Thank you for giving me one last summer to be young and desired and free.”
We stare for a moment, understanding one another, and just when I think I have him figured out he pulls out and flips me over on my stomach. “On your knees,” he directs. Shocked, I obey, scrambling to my knees. He’s close behind me and I arch my back, positioning my ass between his palms. I grab the headboard with both hands and ready myself for him. He makes me wait, running a slow, leisurely, hand down my spine. Seconds or minutes, I don’t even know how long it is until I start to whine and pant, wanting him inside.
“Carter.”
He slips two fingers between my legs, which only causes me to buck with desire. It’s not what I want. I push back harder until I press against his stomach.
“Carter,” I say again, looking over my shoulder to see his face. He’s gazing down at me. “Please, fuck me. I’m dying here.”
“Don’t rush me,” he says quietly. His gray eyes meet mine. After another excruciating pause, he finally gives me what I want, slamming into me so hard the headboard slaps the wall.
“Oh,” I gasp, and he runs his palm across my nipples, sparking a fire across my body. He pushes in again. And again.
This is eons different from that first time at the pool when I had to encourage him. “I know this is it, Ruthie,” he grunts in my ear. “I know this is all I’m getting.” His words stab my heart while he penetrates my body. I let him have his way.
His movements are full blown lust and want. Pounding in me so hard that the headboard creates its own rhythm that keeps in time with my voice, my chant, “Oh god, oh god, oh god…”
My elbows start to shake and Carter’s hand wraps around my stomach, holding me up. Holding me tight. I feel my body clamp around him and I come fiercely. He slams into me once, twice more, filling me.
Sweaty and breathing hard, Carter eases out, tossing the condom in the trashcan by the bed. I collapse on my forearms, unable to function properly, because holy shit.
“Holy shit,” I say, with a shaky voice when I finally lay on my back. I’m coated in a thin layer of sweat. “Where the hell did you learn to do that?”
“I had this amazing teacher,” he says, staring at the ceiling.
I raise an eyebrow. “Well, I guess my contribution to humanity is complete.”
Carter looking at me with furrowed brows and shakes his head. “You’re one crazy chick, you know that?”
But he obviously doesn’t care, because we’re doing this thing and we’ve barely finished and I feel him trying to do it again.
“I know.”
I get the feeling he may like crazy.
Chapter 21
Eight Months Later
“I saw him today.”
“Again?” Finley stirs her coffee with one of those little plastic sticks. She has on a blue scarf that matches her eyes.
“Yeah. In the library. I ducked behind the periodicals. No one goes in there.”
“Chicken.” She sighs and takes a sip of her drink. “Did he look good?”
“Amazing.”
“Even in winter clothes?”
“I mean, he’s less naked and you can’t see all that pretty brown skin, but yeah…”
“So he didn’t see you?”
I shake my head. I’ve seen him a dozen times around town since last summer. I’ve managed to keep away from him no matter how much I would like to talk to him. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Summer fling, girl. Summer. Fling.” She rolls her eyes at me. “And you thought he was too into you.”
“I’m not into him,” I argue. Finley and I have this conversation every time I see him. Carter’s like a scab being pulled off an old wound. I see him and the wound opens up again, raw and painful. I cover it back up and numb myself for a while, until
we cross paths again.
It’s stupid. I’m over him. Sort of. My brain has let it go but, my body disagrees. It’s bound in some sort of Pavlonian reaction. Ultimately, it has to stop at some point. He’s halfway through his freshman year and I’m twenty- eight and it’s been long enough for me to move on. To be fair, I’d done everything right. We hadn’t spoken since he left my house that night. I un-friended him on Facebook. I deleted his number. We needed a fresh start and I thought that would be that.
Of course, I didn’t realize how often I’d see him around campus or in town. I had no idea that we’d go to the same bars or end up in the library at the same day. He’s easy to spot. Tall and graceful, I’d recognize his body anywhere. His laugh carries across the crowded bars. His confident swagger unmistakable.
I didn’t realize how often I’d think of him when I was with other guys.
As awkward as that was the worst times were when I saw him with someone else, possibly a girlfriend. I never got close enough to find out, but at least once I spotted him drunkenly walking home from a bar, his arm slung around a pretty brunette.
Seeing that hurt more than it should’ve.
It didn’t matter though, he was only doing what I’d told him to do and as long as I continued to avoid him everything would be fine. Eventually it would get better.
“Remember that time you told me you wanted to have his babies,” Finley asks.
“Yes, jeez!” I rub my eyes wishing his face from my memory. “I don’t even want babies. I just want his babies. Seriously, Finley, whoever gets to carry his sperm is like a goddess among women.”
“So hung up on him,” she makes a tsk noise with her tongue. I kind of want to punch her.
“Whatever,” I say dismissively. “So I met up with Mark last night.”
She lifts her eyebrows. “Oh really, how was that.”
“He’s nice. Smart. Busy.”
“Stupid graduate school,” she says. “Sucks away too much time.”
“I know. It’s not like when we were undergrads and could party all the time and drag ourselves into class reeking of beer and weed.”
