Last Call

by Kelly, A. S.

  “I guess not.”

  “Unless…”

  “Unless what?”

  “Unless the night was a total disaster?”

  Her nails digging into my back. Her legs wrapped tightly around my waist. My hands, squeezing at her arse. My dick inside her.

  “I’m your cowgirl.”

  “No.” I shake my head violently. “That’s impossible.”

  “I’m just trying to help you out, here.”

  “By making me doubt my skills?”

  “I don’t want to know anything about your skills.”

  I scoff and jump down from the low stone wall I’ve been sitting on.

  “You just have to forget about this and move on, mate. Unless…”

  I glance sharply at him. “What?”

  “Unless you’ll have trouble forgetting it.”

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  “Maybe she got under your skin.”

  “Don’t be stupid. It was a one-night-stand.”

  “Then why are we still talking about it?”

  “Because there’s fuck all else to do around here.”

  “Don’t you have a teenager to take care of?”

  “Exactly. A teenager. Which means she hates me, and wants nothing to do with me.”

  “So you just left her with your parents?”

  “Just for a few hours. I needed to get out of the house.”

  “It can’t be that bad.”

  “Maybe not for you. You’ve always lived with your parents.”

  “I don’t live with my parents. I have an apartment.”

  “Since when?”

  “For a while now – but that’s not the point. Besides, it’s not so bad, here, living in this town with my family and all my mates.”

  “Of course not: you never left. You have no idea what’s beyond the county border.”

  “The difference between me and you, Kerry, is that I never felt the need to leave, while you legged it as far away as possible as soon as you got the chance.”

  “They offered me a job. What was I supposed to do?”

  “I don’t know what you were supposed to do, but I know what you did do. You left; and you never looked back.”

  “I was busy.”

  “Too busy to spend time with your daughter?”

  “What the fuck has that got to do with anything?”

  “The truth is that you’re a commitment-phobe.”

  “That’s not true. What the hell would you know?”

  Tyler crosses his arms. “That girl grew up without a father.”

  “Her mother and I stopped loving each other.”

  “Doesn’t she use her mother’s surname?”

  “How do you know all this stuff? Wait, don’t tell me: the newspapers.”

  He goes back to the hose and turns on the water, washing the back of the fire engine.

  “Has it never crossed your mind that almost everyone here has read all those articles?”

  I walk around the truck so that he doesn’t have to yell: I don’t want him broadcasting all my mistakes to everyone.

  “Have you ever thought that, maybe, she’s read them, too?”

  “Mmm.”

  “And that she knew exactly what type of guy you were when she jumped into bed with you?”

  His words begin to take shape in my mind.

  “And, considering what you were already like as a teenager…”

  It’s not the logic that bothers me: it’s the worrying fact that it’s coming from Tyler.

  “What were you expecting when you came back after all these years, Kerry?”

  “To be honest, I wasn’t expecting anything.”

  “Then why are we even discussing it? And please don’t tell me it’s because there’s nothing better to do.”

  We’re discussing it because I can’t seem to shake last night from my mind: her body moving on top of mine, her hair everywhere, her hands sliding down my back, her mouth, her kisses, her breath tickling my skin. I can’t get the way she looked at me out of my head, that expression of pure ecstasy as we made love. I can’t get the fact that I’m still thinking about it out of my head, as if it wasn’t enough.

  As if I wanted more.

  Jordan

  “Do you need a hand?” His breath is on my neck.

  “I can do it, thanks.” I try to slide the key into the lock, but he brushes my hair aside, pressing his hot lips against my skin.

  “That isn’t helping.”

  He laughs from behind me. “Sorry, I can’t help it.” His hands wrap around my waist, pulling me back against his erection. “If you don’t open this door soon, I swear I’ll have to have you right here in the hallway.”

  “It’s like I’ve come out for lunch on my own.” Anya’s voice drags me back into the present.

  “What was that?”

  “You’re so distracted you haven’t even finished filling me in.”

  Anya has begged me to come and have lunch with her at Aroma Café. She wants a detailed run-down of my night with Niall. At first, I wanted to lie to her: tell her that the evening ended there in the pub, and that we each went home to our own beds. But I think my expression spoke for me.

  “What do you still want to know? I did everything you asked.”

  “I didn’t ask you to sleep with someone. I only dragged you out for a few hours to distract you; I never thought you’d actually go through with it! I mean, I hoped you would, but…”

  “But what?”

  “It’s not the first time you promised me you’d try, before backing out at the last minute.”

  I scoff, leaning back against the seat.

  “It wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  “Jesus, you’re so beautiful, Jordan. I need to know if you’re as incredible as I’m imagining…”

  I instinctively clamp my legs together. “No, it wasn’t so bad.”

  “You see? It was good for you!”

  It ruined my entire life. I managed to survive a whole year without a single orgasm, and now I can’t think of anything else.

  “Yeah. I’d call it a nice distraction.” Hopefully, over the years, I’ve become a good liar.

  “So, tell me,” she says, leaning forward and gesturing for me to do the same. “Is it true, what they say?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’ve read so many stories about him.”

  “You and your gossip.”

  “Are you seriously telling me that you’ve never been tempted to read up about him?”

  “Why would I?” I ask, my gaze wandering out the window.

  Obviously, I’ve taken a look at some of the articles – just like everyone else in town.

  “I don’t know… Curiosity?”

  “I wasn’t the one who used to drool at the thought of Niall Kerry when we were at school.”

  “True. You thought he was stupid, self-centred, and incapable of displaying interest for anything that wasn’t a girl’s arse.”

  “This arse…” His hands squeeze my butt cheeks, helping me move on top of him. “It’s even sexier than I remember.”

  “E-exactly,” I mumble, trying to hide behind my mug.

  Apparently, he still has a thing for backsides.

  “What’s he like in bed?”

  “Alright,” I comment, biting hard on the inside of my cheek to prevent myself from crying out. I think I did enough yelling last night.

  “You’re not going to tell me anything else, are you?” Anya asks, frustrated.

  “You know I hate talking about stuff like this.”

  She huffs, sticking her fork into her noodles. “You’re so boring,” she complains, teasing. I force myself to smile, but I can’t help but listen to that voice in the back of my mind that tells me over and over that I am boring. That I’m predictable, that I never let myself go, and that I have no idea how to seduce a man. It’s the same voice I’ve been listening to for years; and, from now on, I’ll
never hear it again.

  “Any plans for tonight?” Anya asks, finally changing the subject. “We could go out of town. There’s a new pub that’s just opened.”

  I lift my hand, stopping her in her tracks. “I can’t go out two nights in a row.”

  “How come? I always do.”

  “First of all, you’re a lot younger than me.”

  “Only by three years!”

  “Trust me, after you turn thirty-five, every minute counts. Just enjoy the last few months. It’s all downhill from there.”

  She rolls her eyes skyward and shovels another forkful into her mouth.

  “And secondly, I’m really tired.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  Me. Caramel. Dinner. Netflix. And wine: lots of wine, to help me forget the feeling of his hands under my dress, my underwear slipping down my legs, and… I really need to stop, or I’ll have to start drinking right now. And it’s only two p.m.

  “Just a quiet evening in.”

  “Do you want me to come and keep you company?”

  “No, I’ll be fine. You go out and have fun. I can always see you tomorrow.”

  “It’d probably be better to just see you on Monday at work. I don’t think I’ll be human tomorrow; not after the night I’m planning to have.”

  “Does that mean that I’ll get a full run-through on Monday?”

  “I’ll bring coffee.”

  “I think you’ll need it.”

  “Maybe a chocolate muffin, too. One of those ones with chocolate sauce in the middle.”

  “Or else,” I say, mock-threatening her with my fork before I get back to my lunch.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  I lift my eyes to the ceiling in anticipation.

  “It’ll be the last question, I swear.”

  “Go for it.”

  “Is it really as big as I’m imagining?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “His…”

  “Oh, for the love of God! Anya!”

  “What?”

  “Does that seem like an appropriate question to you?”

  “Size matters.”

  “You’re unbelievable.”

  “Ugh. You’ve given me absolutely nothing to fantasize about.”

  “Maybe because there isn’t much to fantasize about.”

  “I wouldn’t believe that even if I’d been in the bedroom with you.”

  I feel flames licking at my cheeks.

  “Oh, fuck. Don’t tell me.”

  His hands on my backside, he lifts me up and pushes me against the hallway wall. I link my legs around his waist and grab onto his shoulders.

  “Here. I want you, right here.”

  I shake my head and tear my gaze away from her prying eyes.

  “You didn’t even get to the bedroom, did you?”

  “Can you please talk a little quieter?”

  “Please, just tell me.”

  I sigh nervously and look around to make sure no one can hear us, before leaning across the table.

  “Not the first time.”

  Anya’s jaw hits the floor.

  “I’m not saying anything else.”

  “Just tell me how many times.”

  I shake my head again, feeling the heat radiating from my beet-red face.

  “Twice?”

  I don’t respond. I don’t think I can ever look her in the eye again after this.

  “Three times?” Her voice grows louder again.

  “Can you please shut up?”

  “Just tell me it was three times.”

  I nod uncomfortably, as she falls back against the seat in disbelief.

  “I don’t think that you ever…with Steven…”

  “Please can we not talk about him?”

  “Sorry, you’re right.” She lifts her hands. “Old news. Gone. Forgotten.”

  “It was never like this with him,” I find myself saying, against my own will, before realising that it’s not nice to compare the sexual competence of the men I’ve been with. But I think Niall Kerry would be pretty happy to know that, with him, it was a whole different experience.

  “What do you mean? It wasn’t like what?”

  “Wild,” I say, awkwardly. “Passionate. Instinctive.”

  I don’t know if they’re the right words to use; but they’re what I felt from the way he touched me, the way he wanted me. The inexplicable electricity that ran from his fingertips: pure, uncontrollable adrenaline, shooting from his body to mine.

  Anya is trying extremely hard not to smile.

  “I never thought it could be like that. I never thought I could do it.”

  “Why did you think that?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. I’ve always had a problem with letting myself go.”

  “But you’re like that all the time.”

  “It’s part of my personality – and, inevitably, it had an effect on my sex life.”

  “Sometimes, us women take a while to open up,” she says, smiling kindly at me.

  “Maybe if it had happened earlier, things would’ve gone differently with Steven.”

  “Steven’s a dickhead,” she declares, making me laugh. “He never understood you. He didn’t know how to treat you the way you deserve.”

  “I don’t know about that, but thank you.”

  “I think that the right people are always the ones who bring out the best in each other.”

  “Are you trying to say that wild and reckless is the ‘best of me’?”

  “I don’t know – I’d have to see this wild Jordan first. But not like that.”

  I laugh, shaking my head.

  “He was good for you, wasn’t he?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Are you going to see him again?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because even though I haven’t read all those magazines that you love so much, I’ve heard the rumours.” I lower my voice, and my mood dips with it. “Niall Kerry is the perfect guy for one hot night. Nothing more.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Maybe he could be good for two or three hot nights, depending on what you need.”

  “It’s better to quit now, before it all gets too messy.”

  “Do you think he could bring out that side to you?”

  “I don’t want to find out. I’ve already given him too much, in that sense.”

  “You’re right.” She stretches her hand out across the table to reach mine. “Let’s stop talking about it.”

  I rest my hand on hers. “I’d really appreciate that.”

  “Unless you’re the one to bring it up again.”

  “Trust me, that won’t happen.”

  Anya finally changes the topic, and I can start to relax – well, nearly – in my chair. I try to pay attention to what she’s saying, to nod and smile at the right times, just to stop her from asking any more questions about me and Niall, and our night together. Yet I can’t seem to think about anything else; and I’m worried that it’ll be like this for a while.

  Niall

  I close the fridge door and open my beer. “I’ve invited Tyler for dinner,” I tell my mother, who’s standing next to me.

  “You two are getting close again pretty quickly.”

  I shrug.

  “I’m glad. He’s a nice boy.”

  “He’s the same age as me, Mum.”

  “Does that mean you’re old?”

  “Not old, no. But I’m hardly a boy…”

  “I called him a boy, not you.”

  I let this ridiculous argument drop and take a few sips of my beer.

  “She hasn’t come out of her room,” Mum tells me, as if I hadn’t already noticed. “I think she’s been in there all day with those things glued into her ears.”

  I sigh, exhausted.

  “You need to do something, Niall.”

  “We’ve just got
here. Give her time to get used to everything. Besides, if all goes well, she’ll be starting school next week. She’ll make new friends, and she’ll have someone to hate other than me.”

  “Don’t force yourself.”

  “To do what?”

  “To spend time with her.”

  “I don’t know what to do, how to get her attention. I don’t know how…” I look at my mother’s concerned expression. “I don’t know how to be a father.”

  “No one does. You learn on the job. But if you never start the job, Niall, it’s much more difficult.”

  I lower my head in defeat. My mum is right – but I have no clue where to start.

  “Is Rian here yet?” My father joins us in the kitchen.

  “Not yet. She had a late class tonight. She’ll be here as soon as it’s done.”

  “What about Skylar?”

  “Still in her room.”

  My father nods slowly, before speaking again. “I was thinking that we could let her redecorate the room.”

  I glance at him. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, it’s Rian’s old room. It’s full of all that New Age hippie stuff, with posters about peace and love. Have you seen your daughter, recently?”

  I want to laugh, but I resist.

  “That’s a great idea,” my mother adds. “It’ll help distract her. She can create a new place for herself, where she feels at home.”

  “You know we won’t be here forever, right, Mum?”

  “I wouldn’t have done anything with that room, anyway,” my father says. “And I doubt that Rian will ever come back and live with her old, uncool parents.”

  She definitely wouldn’t. Me, on the other hand…

  But Dad is right. Skylar needs a place she can call her own.

  “The rest of our stuff should be here by the end of next week. That might help.”

  “Of course,” Mum says, smiling. “Do you want to deliver the good news?”

  “Sure.”

  “Now.”

  “Oh, you mean right now?”

  “It’s almost dinner time. You’d have had to call her down soon, anyway.”

  “Me?” I ask, as my mother gazes worriedly at me.

  “Niall…”

  “Okay, I know. Got it.” I place my beer on the counter and take a deep breath. “I’m going.” I head towards the stairs and climb the steps, before reaching her room and knocking at the door. I wait a few seconds, but don’t hear anything from inside. She’ll definitely have that music blaring into her ears – or maybe she’s simply ignoring me. Either way, I have to do something: so I open the door and stick my head inside.