Jagged Love

by Nicole Simone

  “What does the heroin needle signify?”

  “It’s a threat. If I don’t pay, Sumiko will end up dead the same way as my mother.”

  “Overdose?”

  “Yeah.”

  Andrew’s breath hung like a white cloud in the frigid air. He scrubbed his face with his hands and cursed. “Somebody should stick a needle in Big Ted’s arm and do the world a favor.”

  “Don’t tempt me.”

  Huddling closer to me, I wrapped the jacket around both of us. His presence slowed my heart rate to a normal level. Without Andrew, this situation would have been the straw that broke the camel’s back.

  “One second.” He lifted himself off the curb and patted his pockets. He made an a-ha noise when he found what he was looking for, a checkbook. “Is there a pen in my jacket pocket?”

  There was. Handing it to him, he sat back down on the curb. Pen poised over a fresh check, he looked at me. “How much do you owe?”

  “This isn’t your responsibility, Andrew. I’ll figure out a way to pay back the debt without your money.”

  “Yeah, how?” He sighed. “Look I have done it your way. I haven’t called the cops and reported Big Ted for assault or battery but things have gone on long enough. Your sister, your only family, might die tomorrow because of a stupid mental block you have about taking money. There are no strings attached. I don’t think of you as a project and I certainly don’t view you as weak. Please, for once in your life, lean on somebody else for a change and let me fix this.”

  Although it went against the very essence of who I was, my brain screamed at me to accept Andrew’s offer. I had no other options. “Fine. I owe seven hundred dollars, but I’ll find a way to pay back every penny of that money.”

  Visible relief reflected in his gaze. “Yeah, whatever, that’s fine.”

  He quickly scribbled the sum and handed me the check. I tucked it into my wallet for safekeeping.

  “Do you want to come back inside?” Andrew wondered.

  Big Ted had ruined whatever happy vibes I had by sticking Gums on me. However, I wouldn’t let him completely destroy Andrew’s show.

  “Sure, I would love to,” I said.

  “Good. There is something I wanted to show you.”

  He hauled me to my feet and didn’t let go of my hand as we walked into the art gallery. The crowd had thinned since my brief departure.

  Andrew gestured to the space around us. “This show has been a compilation of six months of blood, sweat, and tear—yet there are two pieces of artwork I started once we met.”

  It sounded as if he wanted me to guess. “Andrew if you don’t want to stand here until we are old and gray, I suggest you tell me.”

  Grinning, he led me to the canvas I saw earlier when Gums cornered me. My gaze swung from Andrew back to the painting.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “The day we met at the coffee shop, I ran home and stayed up till four a.m., painting the girl with the troubled eyes.” He pointed to a streak of purple on the horizon. “That’s how much you let your happiness show, only enough to know that it existed.”

  Before I could process, he tugged me to the next painting, broken into three separate canvases.

  “It’s called a triptych,” he explained.

  Unlike the previous painting, orange, pink and yellow streaked the canvas in parallel lines. Flecks of gold bended the light.

  “This was painted two days ago,” Glancing over at me, Andrew’s eyes shined with warmth. “This is your soul, the soul that I see when I look at you now.”

  My hand flew to my mouth in disbelief. “No.”

  Every tragedy I’d gone through, every moment that had threatened to tear me apart was worth it because it all led to Andrew. A man who saw the beauty inside me when I couldn’t.

  Our discarded clothes formed a path down the hallway as we stumbled into the apartment. Buttons were ripped off and pants were shoved to the ground until our underwear was the only barrier between us.

  Andrew’s eyes took in my hot pink bra with satisfaction. “I love a woman in pink.” His fingers teased the crest of my breast and I shivered. “But I especially love what’s underneath.”

  He slid the straps over my shoulders, placing hot kisses against my bare skin. Overcome with a need so fierce I felt as if I was swimming underwater, my hand dipped below his waistband.

  Andrew gently nipped my plump bottom lip.

  Pain mixed with pleasure. I found his thick hardness waiting for me and I wrapped my fingers around the length of his shaft. My hand pumped forward. Andrew’s groan vibrated through me. Stopping at the entrance to the bedroom, he lifted me off the ground and my legs tangled around his waist.

  “Where are we going?” I asked as we changed direction.

  “My art studio.”

  “Your art studio?”

  Andrew looked at me with desire. “I want to paint you, naked and sedated with pleasure. I want to run my paintbrush over your lush curves. I want to plunge deep inside you and fill you to the very brim.”

  My mouth gaped open in an O. “That sounds… nice.”

  “Nice? It sounds nice?” Andrew laughed. “Nice is reserved for kittens and soft fluffy things. What we are about to do is anything but nice.”

  He shifted me higher on his waist so that my clit brushed his hipbone. A zap of pleasure hit my core. Squirming in his arms, my fingers dug into his back.

  His gaze darkened. “If you keep doing that, we might not make it there.”

  I swiveled my head around and saw we were near the kitchen. I had no idea where his art studio was actually located, but if we didn’t get there within the next five seconds, I might die. Lust coiled tightly in my belly like a rubber band about to snap.

  Andrew’s thumb dragged over my throbbing sex. “You’re so wet.”

  A gasp passed my lips as I arched into his touch. Desperation sunk me to a new level, begging. “Please, I need you inside me. Please, Andrew.”

  He swallowed my pleas. Our tongues danced together and he lowered me to the ground onto the scratchy surface of the runner in the hallway. Shedding his boxers, I drank him in.

  “Shit.” Frustration passed over Andrew’s face. “One second. I have to grab a condom.”

  “It’s fine. I’m on birth control and I’m guessing you’re clean. Right?”

  “Clean as a whistle.”

  With that information out of the way, I reached greedily toward Andrew. “Great, now fuck me.”

  “Such a dirty mouth,” he chided.

  Both at our breaking points, Andrew shoved my underwear to the side and thrust inside me. He remained a slow and steady rhythm that was both maddening and mind blowing. Andrew flicked his tongue against my covered nipple. I whimpered as a tornado built.

  “Are you going to come for me, baby?” Andrew purred, his eyes locked onto mine. “That’s it, come.”

  Throwing my head backwards, a scream ripped from my throat as an orgasm racked through my body. Moments later, Andrew tipped over the edge. He slumped foreword, his dick twitching and spent.

  I laughed, breathlessly. “What happened to having sex in your art studio?”

  “Your not wearing any panties happened.” He rolled off of me. His cum dripped free, coating my inner thighs with the sticky substance. “I’ll get a rag to clean you up.”

  He put his pants back on and walked to the bathroom. As I waited for him to return, I thought about the significance of Andrew inviting me into his art studio. Yes, we didn’t make it, however, Matthew said only Camilla was allowed in there when they were together. His studio was his sacred space and Andrew wanted me to see it. Actually, it was more like he’d wanted to fuck me in it, but that was neither here nor there. Hopefully, this mess with Big Ted would be gone by tomorrow and we could start fresh. Maybe we could be a real couple with normal problems like dirty dishes in the sink.

  Seconds later, Andrew returned with a wet rag. “I’ll never get over how stunning you are, Hav
en.”

  He got on his knees and cleaned me up. The rag was cool against my heated skin. I had never felt more cherished than when I was with Andrew. He knew how to treat me in bed and out. A rare quality ninety-nine percent of men didn’t have. The day he walked into The Roasted Bean was the luckiest day of my life. Helping me to my feet, Andrew held open a silk robe. I slipped my arms through the sleeves and tied the belt around my waist.

  “Do you still want to see my art studio?” Andrew asked.

  “Of course.”

  We went upstairs to his office where he opened a door hidden in the ceiling. He pulled down a ladder and gestured for me to go first. I climbed the rickety steps. Andrew’s art studio was a converted greenhouse. The all glass structure offered an unobstructed view of the twinkling stars. His paintings, small and large, leaned against the walls while wood easels offered a glimpse into his works of progress.

  I spun around in a circle. “This is incredible. It’s like something out of a movie.”

  He stuck his hands in his pockets, looking like a proud father. “I know. I couldn’t believe my luck when the landlord said I could have it. Granted, it was pretty dilapidated at that time but it only needed a little love and care.”

  “You did all the work yourself?”

  “Of course. It just needed new plumbing, new floors and five quarts of window cleaner.”

  My eyebrow quirked. “That’s all?”

  Laughing good naturedly, he shrugged. “My dad taught me from a young age the importance of hard work.”

  “Did he also teach you to be incredibly ADD?” Seeing his look of confusion, my thoughts tumbled out. “You bounce from one thing to another. Last year it was a pop up coffee shop and this year it’s painting.”

  “I get bored easily and besides, what’s the fun in exploring one thing?”

  “Yeah, but how do you afford to live like this?”

  “A year ago, I was in law school and incredibly unhappy. Hating my life, unsure what to do about it, and hungry for adventure. My grandma passed away that fall and left me a large sum of money. She always told me to follow my own path so that’s what I did. I dropped out, traveled the world, and came back to Detroit with a fresh outlook.”

  “So you can understand why I have to leave? To get that fresh outlook you’re talking about.”

  “Of course,” Andrew said. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t miss you.”

  My heart stuttered in my chest. “You will?”

  Walking to where I stood, he cupped my face in his hands. His brown eyes churned with endearment. “You’re an idiot if you think otherwise. You are the best part of my day.”

  He lightly brushed a kiss against my lips. Before Andrew, it would have been as easy as packing a bag and hitting the open road. Now though, everything had changed. The idea of leaving him made me physically ache. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself though, if I acted like my mother and rerouted my dreams for a guy.

  Andrew smoothed the crease between my brows. “Stop thinking so much.”

  “I can’t help it. My brain didn’t come with an off switch.”

  “Meditation would work wonders for you. Do you want to learn?”

  Hokey-pokey religion stuff was never my cup of tea. My mom briefly dated her yoga teacher and they would practice in the living room. While he was the nicest guy my mom was involved with, he never wore shoes, which was unfortunate because he had the nastiest feet. I’m talking toenails that curled. I shivered in repulsion.

  “I’m good,” I said. “I like to bury my problems and emotions under a layer of doubt until they fester and explode in a crying jag.”

  “That’s healthy,” he said sarcastically.

  “That’s me. I’m all about a healthy mindset. How did you find meditation?”

  “I googled it.”

  I snorted, slapping him on the arm. “Real funny.”

  Andrew’s lips tugged up at the corners. He walked over to a pile of pillows, sat down, and patted the cushion next to him. I had a gut feeling whatever story he was about to tell had to do with Camilla. My legs crossed as I positioned myself.

  “The first stop on my adventure was in India,” Andrew began.

  “What was it like?”

  “Congested with levels of poverty that were unlike anything I had never seen before.”

  “Yeah, I’ve seen photographs in National Geographic magazines. It is profoundly sad.”

  The thought of the magazine I had spent years collecting was now a pile of ash made me want to throw up. All those images ruined.

  Andrew fiddled with a woven leather bracelet on his wrist. “It is sad, but it also shows how resilient the human spirit is. Anyways, I was walking the streets of Mumbai when I heard this flute music coming from a nearby alleyway. It was—” he paused and shook his head. “It was unlike anything I had ever heard before. In search of the source, I stumbled upon a group of people meditating. They were sitting there on their mats, completely still. It was a slice of nirvana amongst the grime. The man who was playing the flute, opened one eye and nodded. I nodded back. While I wanted to stay, I felt as if I was intruding so I left. The next day I returned at the same time and the next. It became part of my routine.”

  “So, you continued that routine when you got home?”

  “Yeah, I meditate in the morning for twenty minutes. It helps my creative process.”

  Since there wasn’t a creative bone in my body, I didn’t have a process. Actually that wasn’t true. I was really good at drawing stick figures and semi-decent at writing. However, neither of those things had morphed into a hobby. I’d thought about majoring in food science but my grades weren’t stellar enough to get into college. Plus, money.

  Andrew didn’t fit Camilla into his story but that didn’t mean she wasn’t a part of it. “Is that where you met her? Camilla?” I asked casually.

  “Yeah, I met her in India. She was part of the group who did meditation.”

  The woman I saw on the Polaroid was transferred to a courtyard. Her eyes closed, flowing red hair tumbling down her back and a peaceful expression was written on her face. She was the opposite of me in every way.

  “A continental hookup? How very Humphrey Bogart of you,” I joked to lighten the mood.

  Andrew cracked a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “It should have stayed that way but when you meet somebody abroad, you forge this bond. Our relationship while slow to develop was like a virus. She infected me until I couldn’t think about anything but her.”

  Jealousy flared. I wanted punch Camilla in the boobs and was unsure if I could stand to hear another word about her. However, I’d asked to know about their relationship. Andrew was simply complying with my wishes. Stupid curiosity.

  “As a twenty-three-year-old, I thought that was normal.” Andrew looked up at the blanket of stars. “Consummation equaled love. Later I found out, consummation equaled them running away screaming because you stifled them.”

  “I don’t think you know how to love any other way.” Andrew gave me the side eye. I held my hands in front of me. “That’s not a bad thing! I’m just saying you put your heart and soul into everything you do. Nothing is half assed. You put months of hard work into your art show and I’m guessing it was the same for the pop up coffee shop. I love that you are so passionate.”

  “Thanks, and I love how cute you are when you’re trying to back peddle.”

  “I’m not back peddling!” I cried. “It’s true.”

  He rubbed my thigh, assuredly. “I’m just yanking your chain.”

  Crossing my arms over my chest, my bottom lip pouted. “You’re mean.”

  “I’m awesome.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. Although he was joking, Andrew was awesome. His adoring fans were proof I wasn’t the only one who felt the same.

  “You are ridiculous,” I countered. “So what happened next? You got consumed and then?”

  Andrew sighed. “And then we traveled around Europe together. F
or the most part, it was amazing. Camilla was a yoga teacher by trade so she paid her half by teaching at different studios. At the end of the three months, I invited her to live with me in the United States. Problem was, she wasn’t a U.S. citizen.”

  I saw where this was going. “You proposed so she could stay?”

  “Yes. We lasted eight months before we broke up. She missed her family in Denmark and felt as if my American ways were sexist. It has been six months since she left.”

  Studying his face, I tried to interpret his elusive emotions. While I didn’t want to know if he still loved her, my heart needed to.

  “Are you….” I gulped. “Do you still have feelings for her?”

  “Do I?”

  It was as if he was asking the question to himself. Tipping his chin to the glass ceiling, my pulse hammered. A beat passed, then another, and another. Our relationship’s future depended on his answer. While I would be shattered if he said yes, I would survive. I always did. Nonetheless, my toes and fingers crossed as I waited for Andrew to speak.

  A magnificent smile split apart his cheeks. “No, I don’t.” Relief flooded his words. “I don’t at all. We were ill matched. Traveling around together, everything was new. We built a life on that newness but once Camilla came here, she was a mismatched puzzle piece. I loved the idea of her but I don’t think I ever loved her.” He looked over at me, his eyes searching. “Does that make sense?”

  “Perfect sense.”

  Andrew gathered me into his arms. I snuggled into his side and my head rested against his chest. His heart beat in rhythm with mine.

  “I’m all yours, Haven,” Andrew said. “Heart, body, and soul. I’m yours.”

  I squinted against the harsh assault of sunlight. Rolling onto my side, Andrew’s eyelashes fluttered against his cheek as he slept peacefully. We hadn’t gone to bed until late last night after he’d made good on his promise. We had sex underneath a blanket of stars and on top of a mound of pillows. I couldn’t believe he was mine. A thousand butterfly wings flapped in my stomach. Hearing the story about what happened between Camilla and him wasn’t what I expected. Honestly, Matthew had made it sound as if she died in a horrific crash, when they’d broken up because of a cultural divide. That was easier to swallow. Also, it helped she was a million miles away in Denmark and couldn’t pop by at a moment’s notice. Could you imagine? That would be awkward. Andrew’s arm flung over my stomach as he mumbled. He smelled like sex and laundry detergent. Gently shoving him off of me, my feet hit the cold hardwood floors.