by Clare James
When I see him in public, however, it’s like we haven’t grown at all. Take our meeting at the store yesterday.
“Here shopping for men, Ari?” he asked.
“No. What about you? Shopping for a personality?”
“Very funny, brat.”
“Nice chat, dick.”
I don’t know, maybe this is what we need to be to each other. Maybe it’s for the best.
Thankfully, I have my family to keep me grounded.
Tonight, once I get Cade settled in, Mom makes tea. She always drinks peppermint in the evening. It brings back so many memories of us cuddled up on the couch watching TV or reading or playing checkers.
Tonight? She’s suckered me into a Downton Abbey marathon on Netflix. Serena was never into Mom’s things and God help our rough-around-the-edges brother. But Mom’s always been a romantic, much like I used to be.
After a few episodes I see the appeal.
“Okay, you’re right, this show is amazing.”
“See, what did I tell you?”
“Matthew is pretty dreamy.”
“He is, but I don’t know, I just adore Mr. Bates.”
“I can see that. He would be perfect for you. Where could we find a Mr. Bates in Gulf Bay?”
“I think that ship has sailed, my dear.”
“Mom, why didn’t you ever date after Dad left?” I finally ask the question I’ve had for so many years.
“I used to say it was time or you kids. But truthfully, honey, I was scared. I didn’t think I could open my heart again because I couldn’t risk it breaking.”
“Are you sorry?” I ask.
“Most of the time, I think it saved me a lot of frustration and heartache. I think there’s a reason I don’t have as many wrinkles as a woman my age should have.”
“Yeah, genetics. I’m praying for the same.”
“No, I think it’s because I’ve had control over my life. I’ve worked hard, but never really worried. It’s rare that I have an altercation. It’s rare I raise my voice, even when the three of you were little stinkers. I’ve been happy and sure of myself. I didn’t have a man to muck it all up.”
“And now?”
“You know, as nice as it was, I think I’d take a few more wrinkles.”
“It’s not too late, you know. Have you ever thought of Jimmy?”
“Jimmy? No, we’re more like family. Kate was one of my best friends.”
“And it’s been two years, Mom. I think she would approve. In fact, I know she would.”
“What makes you think Jimmy would even consider the idea?”
“Oh Mother, for someone so brilliant, you’re also so blind.”
“I might say the same about you, dear.”
“Well, yes, Alex. That was a low blow.”
“I’m not talking about Alex.”
I lift a brow.
“You know who I mean,” she says.
And we both sit on that for a moment.
“I’ll get the next episode ready,” Mom finally says. But when she presses play, she mumbles to herself, “Jimmy, hmph.”
And I think about Tristan – and how it could never work.
Tristan
The following Wednesday, I wait, half expecting her not to show. She’s skittish and undependable, despite knowing how I make her feel. How much she wants this. But she still hates me. I see it in her eyes when we’re in public. I can’t blame her.
“All right, asshole,” she says when she finally does make an appearance. “Let’s do this.”
It’s hot, but also a little fucked up. Honestly, the whole hate-sex thing is making me feel like a misogynistic bastard. I’m not sure how much longer I can play.
“Can we lose the act for today, Ari?”
“What’s the matter? You can call me names in front of the town, but not here. Losing your edge?”
“No, I’m getting a little tired of the whole game. I just want to be with you.”
She doesn’t know how to respond to that.
“How’d it ever get this far out of control, anyway?” I ask. “I know I told you to leave me alone, but I never wanted this.”
“What do you expect by the way you acted back then? When you said my life was a mess and I deserved what I got. How do you think I should’ve reacted? I know I’ve made mistakes, but some of them have been the best things in my life. Look at Cade. How could you ever imply he was a mistake or a mess? At least you were talking to me then. The rest of the time, you cut me out. Never even answered my calls.”
“Ari, I didn’t know about Cade until you came back into town.”
“How is that even possible?” she asks.
“You never told me.”
“I tried, but you never listened. But still, what about the papers, the news programs? Alex paraded him around every chance he got.”
“I detest sports. And after you left, I guess it was just easier to pretend. I avoided it and it really wasn’t hard, especially when I moved to L.A. I didn’t talk to Dad much other than business and Danny and I had a deal.”
“What kind of deal?”
“You, Alex, and football were completely off limits for conversation. And each time I put you down, I was only referring to your choice to leave with Alex. I know it was bad, but you destroyed me, Aria. You have to believe me, though; I’d never talk shit that about a kid. Never. Especially yours.”
“Well, I know you’re not into children.”
“I think you’d be surprised.” I don’t want to tell her about my time with Cade or the fact that I enjoy our afternoons more than he does. It seems a little self-serving at this point.
“So you’re telling me our whole enemies-to-bed buddies thing is a sham?” she asks.
“No, not at all. I still don’t like you, Prince. You broke my fragile teenage heart.”
“Nice.”
“But I’d like to call a truce for a while,” I say, reaching for her.
“I’d like that.” She wraps herself around me, something she’s never done before.
“Now, come upstairs with me, woman. I want you naked and screaming my name before dinner.”
“You are awfully bossy. You think you can just order me around and tell me what to do for the promise of an orgasm?”
“I don’t know, can I?”
“Yes, but that’s beside the point.”
“Go,” I demand.
Her eyes are wicked when she says, “Make me.”
Aria is real and genuine and it takes my damn breath away. The control she gives to me is the ultimate aphrodisiac. She looks at me now with those hooded eyes just waiting for me to make my next move.
And I have no problem with that.
Aria
Each time I cross the threshold at the beach house, I feel a weight lifted. It’s become my reprieve from daily pressures and responsibilities, and from the burden to be a certain way or act a certain way. It’s my haven. My own clubhouse where I make the rules.
This time when we – I have to say make love, because that’s what it feels like – it is slow and sweet and emotional.
After, we’re quiet, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s welcome. And when our bodies reach out for another touch, another connection, we tangle up all over again.
“This is bad,” I say as we spread out on Tristan’s bed completely spent.
“Bad, are you crazy?” Tris asks.
“It’s so bad. I don’t think I could say no to you if I tried. It can’t be a good thing to give up control all the time, no matter how much I love it.”
“You love it?” he asks with so much emotion, it makes me melt a little.
I might love more than just our sex life. A thought I don’t want to admit just yet.
“That’s what you haven’t quite figured out yet, Ari.” He places a soft kiss in each palm. “You have all the control.”
“That’s not what it sounded like a few minutes ago.”
“That’s me helping you let go �
� only while we’re together this way. You have a submissive side to you sexually and I have a dominant side. I want to help you, make it easier on you. Give you the most possible pleasure I can. I’m here to serve; give you what you need. You hold all the power.”
“I guess I never thought about it that way.”
“It’s true,” he says.
“In that case.” I fling myself on top of him. “I demand we go again.”
When we’re finally done, my stomach releases a loud growl that reminds us of the one body part we’ve neglected.
“Beat around the bush, why don’t you.” Tristan laughs.
“Sorry, I guess I didn’t get much of a chance to eat today.”
He regards me in a softer way just then.
“How is that possible when you work in a diner and live above said diner?” he asks.
“Ah, let’s see, work, classes, studying, caring for my child, cleaning, laundry.” I realize I’m going off on a tangent, so I lighten up. “And that was before lunchtime. About the time you’re on your third cup of coffee.”
Tristan stands and yanks me off the bed. He slides into a pair of sweats and covers me in a fresh T-shirt, before pulling me downstairs into the kitchen, where he takes out two plates and four white boxes from the fridge.
He didn’t.
With a wink, he reaches inside for a cream cheese puff and runs it under my nose.
Oh yes, he did.
My hand clamps down on his wrist. I eat it right from his hand, not caring one bit that it’s cold. It’s been ages since I’ve had good Chinese food.
“So back to my life of leisure,” he says, feeding me another puff. “I’ll see you your study time and waiting tables for my weekly payroll and supplies orders for Windows Unlimited. And I raise you one bath, breakfast, and workout for an ornery old man. And that was all complete by, ahem, ten a.m.”
“You are actually taking care of Pauly?” I ask, using our pet name for his dad. Adding the y to the end of that grump’s name always made us laugh.
“I told you that.” Tris says.
“Yeah, I guess you did, but I just assumed that you had help.”
“I do. We have nurses check in, and Heddy of course, who is a godsend to give me Wednesdays off. Shit, if she only knew what we were up to out here.”
“Stop.” I push him. “Seriously, you get him ready and feed him and do PT?”
“Don’t look at me like that, Ari. It’s not all out of the goodness of my heart. There’s something in it for me.”
“Still.”
“Come on, load up your plate,” he says. “I’ve always wanted to eat in bed.”
I pile mine with the cream cheese puffs, lo mein, and garlic beef, ignoring the fact that he picked up all my favorites. It’s probably just a coincidence.
Yeah, right.
Tristan
Aria becomes more like the girl I used to know with each passing Wednesday. The other day, she giggled – something I hadn’t heard since we were in high school. There was so much joy and elation in the sound.
And let’s face it, there has never been two more sexually compatible people. It’s that reasoning I use to explain the uneasiness I feel when she’s not in my bed.
It’s not the woman, it’s the sex. That becomes my mantra, because I don’t want it to end. When we’re together it’s precious and raw and so fucking fantastic, I’m hard for days simply reliving the memory.
As I get ready for class, I realize I’m happier than I’ve ever been. Though the one-day-a-week situation has become grating. It wears me down with a physical ache, waiting to see Aria, to touch her.
We both know our arrangement has become so much more, but neither of us is ready to face it. Like last week, I made us dinner: steaks on the grill. No sense in eating alone, especially when we both needed our energy for the evening activities. Aria made the salad and set the table, and it was just so normal. I even found myself wishing the little dude was joining us.
Then, as we were sitting at the table talking about our days, she leaned over and started cutting my steak. I sat back and watched her do it, in awe. She was in mommy mode without even realizing it.
After she got half of the beef in squared cubes for me, awareness flashed across her face. It quickly morphed into heated embarrassment. “Oh my God,” she said, hiding her face. “I can’t believe I just cut your food like you’re a toddler.”
“I actually quite like it,” I told her. “Faster this way, so we can get to other things.
“You mean I didn’t ruin you for life with that move?” she joked. “It has to be quite the mood killer.”
She was so wrong. It was endearing and sweet. That is the real Aria and I want more of her. All of her. She has a child and is responsible for so much, but here with me, she trusts completely. And it only increases my possessive nature.
Wednesdays are no longer enough.
Later that morning in the commons, the sight of Aria takes my breath away. Wearing a sundress with her hair in a long braid, she sits in the grass looking like a picture. It takes all my self-control not to climb on top of that tight body and pound it into the ground.
She looks up and her cheeks flush as if she knows what I’m thinking.
You see far too much, Aria Prince.
Her anatomy book is open and brings all sorts of wicked thoughts into my head.
I take a seat and sing, the neck bone’s connected to the chest bone, while tracing a path from her chin to her décolletage, and then just above her breasts that rise with each breath.
“Why, Tristan Green,” she says. “Your fingers are dangerously close to my bosom.”
“Oh, is that the technical term?” I chuckle. “Bosom. Okay, I can work with it. Maybe even turn it into a filthy little word.”
“I always think of that word and women in those period dresses, like in Downton Abbey, when I’m with you in public.”
“Excuse me?” I feel an insult coming along.
“You know, the women with the heaving bosom, when they are upset or are turned on or ready to faint. I feel like that when I’m with you.”
“Wait a minute, time out on the heaving bosom for a sec, you watch Downton Abbey?”
“Mom’s gotten me into it, thrilled to have another romantic around. Well, a recovering romantic. Serena hates that crap.”
I imagine she does, the little minx.
“I can see it,” I answer, offering no more. “But enough of that, let’s get back to the heaving bosoms and our little anatomy game.”
“Stop that, and stop messing with me in public.”
“Hey, you brought it up,” I say, tracing a delicate line along that beautiful heaving bosom.
“Tristan.” She slaps my hand away, but her eyes grow dark.
“No one’s watching us, Ari. Stop being so paranoid.”
“I know. You’re right. I’m just used to people watching my every move.”
“Well, you’re home now and you’re safe.” I place my arm around her shoulder and squeeze. For the briefest of moments, she rests her head on my chest and melts into me. How I wish I could take away her stress outside of the bedroom as well as I do inside.
“Look, baby,” I say. “I’ve been thinking. I want to renegotiate our deal.”
It just comes out. Of course, I’ve been thinking of nothing else, but wanted to be a little more suave with my new proposal.
“Renegotiate,” she says. There’s a trace of panic in her voice and I want to kiss it away. “Why? I thought everything was going perfectly.”
“And that’s why I want to renegotiate. I want more.”
“More what?”
“More everything.”
It’s time to show her more as well. I want her to see how I am with Cade. Show her that there’s more to me, more to us, than just sex.
“Meet me at the diner at 3:00.”
It’s 2:50 when I arrive. I’ve been doing this almost every day now. Aria is usually done with the lun
ch rush and up in the apartment or library studying until Cade gets home.
She has no idea that when Serena takes the twins to speech class, Cade hangs out with Amelia and me.
“Teeee,” Cade calls out when I see him.
I hurry over, anxious about what Aria is going to think about all of this.
“Hey Buddy,” I greet him. “How’s it hanging?”
I look around for Amelia to tell her I can take it from here. Personally, I think she’s been waiting for it. Always talking to me about Aria. Her hints and thoughts have never exactly been subtle.
She’s a beautiful woman and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about Aria growing older to look like Amelia. I wonder if she’ll get the same streak of white around her face or the tiny lines around her eyes. I find myself hoping it’s something I’ll get to witness.
And now that she’s finally back in my life, I can’t imagine going back to that place of unknown. I’m confident even if we have to part now, we’ll part as friends. And that means almost as much to me as all the rest.
I search behind Cade to see if I can spot Amelia.
She’s not with him.
Shit.
It’s Serena.
“What the,” she says as she covers Cade’s ears, “fuck are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to hang out with my buddy like I always do this time of day.”
“Christ, you are so transparent.”
“What?”
She sends Cade to go see Jimmy in the kitchen.
“Trying to get back into Aria’s good graces by working over the kid. God, you’re pathetic.”
“I’m already in her good graces, if you must know, and it has nothing to do with Cade. I hang out with him because he’s a cool little person and I enjoy spending time with him.”
“Right.”
“Look, Serena,” I tell her, trying to keep my temper. “I’m sorry about that night at the bar. I didn’t mean to embarrass you, but I just don’t think of you that way.”
“That’s not how you were acting in the beginning. Don’t lie, Tristan. I know you wanted in my pants.”
