Erotic Stories

by Amanda Wals

  I cocked an eyebrow at her.

  "What the hell paintings was he looking at?" I asked as Theron burst out laughing.

  "Let's get some food, we can look over reviews later." Margaret spoke up, amused, but clearly hungry.

  "Definitely," I agreed, having not eaten since before the show last night.

  "What time is your flight?" I asked Amy, suddenly remembering that she was supposed to return to the States today.

  "In about... six hours," She said, looking down at her phone to check the time.

  "Are you trying to get rid of me already?" She teased.

  "Hell, no. I'm just thinking about how long we have to decide how we're handle everything, logistically speaking.." I replied.

  Over lunch, we worked out that Amy would go back to Portland that night after all, in order to get things ready to be able to join me in Greece. When I got back to the island, I'd work on getting things ready for a second person to share the apartment for a while, until we could find something a little bit larger. Then I'd likely fly to Portland to help her get things sorted out and packed.

  At one point during the meal, Amy got a phone call. I watched in mild amusement as she excitedly told Courtney that she had, indeed, found me in London. There were a lot of half finished sentences machine gunning back and forth across the phone line, and Theron began snickering. I wasn't far behind him, earning both of us stern looks from Margaret. Amy was nearly bouncing in the booth when she told Courtney that she was moving to Europe to live with me.

  After lunch, I made arrangements to meet back up with the Cains after seeing Amy off at the airport and we parted company so that Amy I spend time together before she had to leave.

  "When did you get to London?" I asked, taking in the amount of clothes she had spread across the bed in the hotel room. Most of them had been packed already, and for reasons unfathomable to me, she had unpacked just to return them to her bags a few minutes later. If Theron was right and there were a lot more shows on the horizon, I suspected I'd see a scene like this play out many times in the future.

  "Friday afternoon. Why?" She asked as she started stacking the clothes in her suitcase.

  "Just noticing that you still pack three times as many clothes as you need."

  "Oh shut up."

  I picked up a heavily creased piece of paper, that had fallen from her luggage. It had been folded and refolded so many times that it practically fell open in my hand. It was a printed page from the gallery's website promoting our exhibit. It mentioned Theron most prominently, but stated that the exhibit would also feature "new works by American abstract artist Adam Matheson." My name had been circled on the page with a pen multiple times and had several question marks drawn next to it. Little feminine looking hearts were doodled along the edge of the page as well as what I thought looked like a couple of flight numbers.

  "Snoop." Amy said, looking up from her packing.

  "Stalker."

  "Gonna get a restraining order?" She asked playfully. Her hair sliding forward across her face as she packed.

  "I don't think I have to worry too much. You're not very good at it." I smirked.

  "Well, I didn't have much to work with, jackass."

  "I haven't been called that in a long time." I chuckled. She laughed too, and we fell into a comfortable silence for a few minutes while she finished packing up the last of her stuff. It was so great hearing her laugh. Being called a jackass gave me a warm familiar feeling in my heart. Most of my life, that had been a term meant to annoy me. In some ways, it still was. But it's funny the meaning had changed over the years. And how badly I now realized I had missed the moniker.

  "Do you still talk to our parents?" I asked.

  "I keep in touch with mom. It's tense sometimes. She knows I was still looking for you. She keeps holding out hope that I'll drop it. Dad, not so much. It's never been the same. I tried to not be angry with him. I mean, I know we shocked the hell out of them both, but he reacted so badly. What he did to you." She shuddered at the memory. I was never that horrified by his actions against me. I had worried more about her than myself throughout that whole event. I realized now just how hard it had to have been for her to witness. And it seemed to have burned in her memory. "We just don't have much to say to each other, anymore. At least not much that won't lead to a screaming match. He knows I resent him. And I don't think he's in too big of a hurry to try to change my mind about it."

  "I'm sorry. I don't know that it would ever have gone any differently. I always knew that our relationship would cost us. No matter how many ways I thought of to try to tell them about us, I always felt like the end result was the same. They just couldn't accept it. And I can't even really fault them for that. It's got to be a hard thing to come to terms with. And it's not like we exactly eased them into it, either."

  Amy came over and sat in my lap, wrapping her arms around me in a big hug. She smelled wonderful.

  "It was worth it though, right?" She asked.

  "Absolutely worth it." I replied, returning her hug.

  "Are you going to tell them you found me?" I asked. My fingers ran through her hair affectionately. Her eyes closed and she tilted her head into my hand.

  "I'll need to tell mom sooner or later." She said with a sigh.

  "I can't just leave the country without a word. Unlike some people." Amy emphasized the word 'some' while giving me a look of fake irritation.

  "That should be an interesting conversation. I don't envy you." I tactfully elected to ignore the second part of her comment.

  "You're not going to disappear again while I'm in Portland, right?" She smiled while she asked, but I could see the glint of worry in her eyes. "I know it's a silly thing to worry about. I just.. want to hear you say it, I guess."

  "I'll never disappear on you again, sweetheart. I promise."

  "You'd better not. I'll stalk you again just to kick your ass." She reached for her phone and checked the time.

  "How much longer before we need to get you to the airport?"

  "I really need to head over there in about two hours."

  My heart sank a bit at the thought of her going away again, even if it was only for a couple of weeks. Hopefully, I'd be able to visit her in Portland sooner than that.

  "That sucks."

  "I was just thinking the same thing. You think two hours is long enough for sex, a shower, and a cab ride to Heathrow?" She grinned at me and ground herself in my lap suggestively.

  "We can certainly give it a good try."

  * *

  It was hard to let her get on the plane. I got the feeling that it was just as hard for her to leave me behind. We exchanged our phone numbers and she made sure that she got Theron and Margaret's as well. I held her in my arms at the boarding gate until the flight attendant finally told her to get on the plane or miss the flight.

  I stayed at the airport until I saw the plane take off, pondering the turn of events that had occurred in the last 48 hours. We had been reunited for less than two days. And then she was gone again, even if it wasn't for very long. I resisted an urge to walk to the ticket counter right that moment and book the next flight back to the States. I felt a familiar tightness in my chest that I hadn't experienced in a couple of years. I sat on a bench with my hands on my knees, staring resolutely at the ground. Taking a few deep breaths, I managed to calm myself down. Finally, I caught a cab back to my hotel and took a long nap.

  That night, I met up with Theron and Margaret for dinner. They could barely stop smiling at me the entire time and made me self conscious. Margaret, in particular, was beside herself with excitement.

  "It's going to be a long couple of weeks." I mused.

  "I have a feeling it's going to go by faster than you think." Theron replied between bites of steak.

  "I hope so. I just need to get a new bed and clean up the apartment a bit. There isn't a lot of prep work to be done, really." I thought out loud as I stabbed a piece of potato with my fork and stared at it absentl
y.

  "Thanks for being okay with her moving into the apartment with me. It really means a lot." I added, looking up at Theron.

  "Absolutely. We wouldn't have it any other way." Margaret spoke up as Theron nodded.

  "Did you get a chance to look over any other reviews yet?" Theron asked, knowing full well that I hadn't.

  When I shook my head, he wiped his hands off on his napkin and pulled his tablet computer out again. He opened a website and passed it over to me.

  "Matheson is an essential and uniquely American voice responding to the current postmodern condition." I read aloud, making a sour face at the screen.

  "Seriously, where do they get this stuff? What the hell does that even mean? Do these guys just keep a thesaurus on the back of their toilet and make up statements about the stuff they look at? Look at this bullshit." I motioned to one of the paintings photographed in the article and read from the caption beneath it. "...a raw, visceral look into a fractured mind.' Seriously? It's an aborted attempt to paint a goddamned nautilus shell that I added a bunch of godforsaken sponge textures over!"

  Theron was laughing so hard that his face was nearly purple. Margaret was cackling as well, trying to keep her tears of laughter from streaking her makeup.

  "You are hilarious when you start ranting, you know that?" Theron gasped.

  "So I've been told." I replied, still looking at the article and wondering what the hell these critics saw that I didn't when I painted. I suspected that they were making things up in order to justify their jobs.

  "The point is, things are gonna start happening. You don't see this many positive reviews without calls starting to come in from other galleries. You'll see." He gave me a knowing grin.

  "Yeah, right." I replied, sarcastically. There was less conviction in my voice, and they both picked up on it. The reviews were very positive, and I was beginning to seriously wonder if I was might have a real shot at making a living at an artist. I was still far from convinced, of course.

  That night I tossed and turned in the hotel bed, unable to get comfortable. I stared at the ceiling waiting impatiently to hear that she had landed safely in the US. Frustrated, I raided the room's minibar and was pouring myself a rum and coke when my cellphone chirped at me with a text from Amy.

  "Just landed. Missing the hell out of you already. Love you."

  Breathing a sigh of relief, I sent back my reply. "We'll be together again soon. Just not soon enough. Love you, too. This is going to take forever."

  "Did you find my present?" Present? I glanced around the room. Was I missing something?

  "Present?" I sent back.

  "I left a memento in your suitcase. ;)"

  I walked over to my suitcase and dug around in it for a moment. I didn't see anything that shouldn't have been there. After a little reflection, I did notice something missing though.

  "Did you steal my dress shirt?" I sent.

  "...maybe." I started chuckling when I saw her reply.

  "Brat."

  "I left something in return. You didn't see it?"

  I went back to the suitcase and dug some more. I found the black pair of panties she'd worn the night before shoved in the pocket of my dress slacks.

  "Found 'em."

  "Just something to remind you of me until we can be together again. ;)"

  "Tease."

  "Yep. Guilty. Not sorry, either. I'm going to sleep in this shirt every night. I won't ask you to do the same with my underwear. Unless you want to, that is."

  "Not happening." I smirked as I sent my reply.

  "Damn. A girl can dream."

  "New fetish?"

  "Nope. I've got plenty of those already. Funny thing is, they all involve my big brother."

  "You're going to make this last bit of time apart as hard as you can, aren't you?"

  "I like making it hard."

  "Still a damned tease." I smirked as I sent the reply.

  A few moments later, an image arrived. Chuckling to myself, as I remembered her photos that she had sent me from Rome, years before, I clicked the image file to open it. It was a photo taken in what appeared to be a bathroom. Her torso was in the photo, covered only by my dress shirt which was left unbuttoned. The curve of her breasts and the space between them was clearly visible in the photo, but her nipples remained covered by the shirt. It was sexy as hell.

  The phone vibrated again with another text.

  "Feeling teased yet?"

  "Definitely."

  "Good. I'm at my car now, gotta drive home. Goodnight, love."

  "Goodnight, beautiful."

  I plugged my phone into the charger on the nightstand and double checked the alarm. Swallowing the last of my rum and coke, I kicked back on the bed to try to sleep. It took a while, but I eventually drifted off.

  * *

  By the time we got back home in Milos, the London gallery had sold several of my pieces, even at the insanely inflated prices. Theron gave me a smug grin at the news and I had to admit defeat on the pricing argument. The gallery also had multiple requests from other galleries trying to reach out to me for possible shows, just as Theron had predicted.

  Theron pointed out that I was now in the kind of position as an artist that I needed to get representation. He offered to set me up for a meeting with his agent, and I gratefully accepted the help. I had no idea how to even begin to navigate the intricacies of arranging showings and contracts with galleries, much less when dealing with them in multiple countries. Offers were coming in from Germany, Italy, and France already. It had not even been a full week yet. How the hell was this happening? My mind boggled.

  Theron and Margaret just beamed at me like proud parents while I stared at them incredulously.

  "I told you that it was only a matter of time, Adam." Theron grinned over dinner that evening.

  "You did. But it's just crazy. I mean, damn. Surely, they'll figure out it's a fluke and pull the offers, right? I mean, there's no way my stuff's going to be hanging all over Europe like that." I was still mystified by the whole thing.

  "It doesn't really work like that. The real trick is, you can't let it go to your head when things get rolling. Don't go spending all kinds of money on stupid shit. Save it. Invest it. Don't be that guy that starts making money and spending it just as fast, you know?" He advised.

  "If it came to that, Amy could probably help. She's got a degree in finance. I'm sure she would have some investment ideas. I don't know anything about that kind of stuff. If, by some chance, I wind up making decent money at this, I don't see myself blowing it all anyway. But I do hear what you're saying. I appreciate the advice."

  "You've already made more from the London show than the last three years combined and it's only the first week. Things are going to start happening faster now. You need to be ready for it."

  "Jesus." I needed a beer.

  Theron and I met with his agent, Damian, in Athens a few days later. After going over the details of what help he could offer me, we argued a bit over his percentage. I signed some paperwork and we shook hands. I walked out of the meeting with an agent. I was now an artist with representation. Damn.

  I messaged Amy that the meeting had been successful, hoping that I didn't wake her up. The ten hour time difference meant it was still in the middle of the night in Portland.

  I spent the next couple of days cleaning up the apartment and repainting over a failed mural attempt that I had been tinkering with on one wall of the living area. Margaret was a little upset with me for painting over it, knowing how many hours I had sunk into the project. She was amused at how much work I put into trying to make the small apartment look less like a bachelor pad.

  "You think Amy is going to care one bit about what the place looks like after so long apart?" She asked me.

  "Probably not, but I'd like her to at least be comfortable here. I checked out the rent house at the end of the block again yesterday. I think it may be a real possibility if all goes well."

  "Talking a
bout moving out again? We've told you that you are more than welcome here as long as you like." She sounded exasperated.

  "My stuff fits here just fine right now, but once I get the rest of my stuff shipped from Texas as well as Amy's stuff, it's going to be more than cramped. Trust me. You've never seen her closets. We'll need the space." I was being serious, but couldn't help grinning at Margaret's smirk.

  "You may have a point there." She conceded as she glanced at the lone closet in the apartment. "It really isn't a very big space."

  * *

  I finally returned to my home town a few days later. It was a short, overnight trip to pack and ship my remaining possessions from the storage building that I had been sending Dr. Miller money to maintain for me while I was away. I did not expect to see Austin again after this, having no further reason to be there in my estimation. It felt really strange to be back, but it didn't feel like the horror show of an existence that it had been when I left. Unlike before, I didn't feel a cloud of doom over me with every step. Amy and I discussed going to Austin together to talk to our mother about her leaving the country to be with me, but had decided against it.

  I originally planned to rent a car, but realized that my driver's license had expired while I was abroad. Resigned to my fate, I took a cab to a favorite diner to grab some lunch before I got busy with the things I needed to take care of. I was midway through what I thought might be the best cheeseburger I'd ever had in my life, while answering an email from my new agent about a possible show in Berlin when I saw my mother walk into the diner with two of her friends. I had been in the country for all of three hours and I had already managed to step in shit. God damn it. I stared down at my phone, hoping she wouldn't see me.

  "Adam!" My mother exhaled, excusing herself from her friends to walk over to my table. Screw every possible moment of my life, I thought to myself. I had no idea what I was going to say to her.

  I looked up at her, genuinely unsure of what to say.

  "Hi." I said, with a little apprehension. To be fair, she looked as apprehensive as I felt.

  "How have you been?" I asked, feeling about as awkward as one could.