Page 57 of Love Resurrected
I turn back as she’s stepping toward me, bringing us so close together, I can feel her breath on my neck.
“Thank you. And not just for picking me up. But for defending my honor and just being an all-around nice guy about it.”
“No problem,” I say, turning to face her, right as she’s leaning up to give me a kiss, I’m guessing on the cheek. But she misses my cheek and catches my open mouth, and for just the briefest of seconds, it’s like we are kissing. And maybe we are.
I pull away immediately, not ready for any kind of physicality with a woman, even though I kind of liked it. Thoughts and emotions battle against one another in my head. Part of me wants to try it again, to see how I feel. The other part of me wants to run back to my truck and drive away, never to be heard from again.
How is it that I can feel so conflicted on such a simple thing? I’ve kissed hundreds of women, I’m sure, and not once did I experience this much turmoil over it. It’s just skin on skin. Like brushing against someone in the hall, or a hand accidentally touching yours in the elevator. The question is, do I try it again? My dick votes yes, my heart votes no.
Apparently, my dick wins because the next thing I know, my lips are on hers, or maybe it’s hers on mine, and my tongue is slipping into her mouth. I pull her body flush to me and my cock hardens instantly. Her tongue meets mine in a duel for control and I’m groaning. It’s good. So fucking good. I don’t want to stop.
But, I do, because this isn’t the time for me to try kissing with someone new. I pull my lips away slowly and lean my forehead against hers, trying to catch my breath.
“That was . . . wow.” Tenley straightens, her fingers up against her lips. “I . . . are you okay?”
It’s an odd question for her to ask, but it’s the only one to ask. And the answer is, no, I’m not okay. She’s right, it waswow. And I have no room forwowin my life.Wowcomplicates shit and has expectations. I can’t deal with either of those things, regardless of what my new friend Andy says.
“Look, let’s just forget this ever happened. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean . . .” I pause, but I don’t really know why or what I want to say next. “Fuck. I’ll see you later.” I’m in my truck and backing down her driveway before she says anything more. Before I do anything more. My emotions are at war with my libido. If I’m honest with myself, Tenley felt good in my arms. Kissing her felt natural. Like it did with Kat, only different.
“I’m trying,” I say aloud. To Kat, because I talk to her when I’m alone. Shit, sometimes even when I’m not. “I mean, look, I even kissed someone. And I liked it. It wasn’t as good as with you, of course, but it was still good. I’m probably horny as fuck. It’s hard to go from you to just my hand. I miss you, Kat. I miss us.”
I rest my elbow on the armrest and lean my head against my hand, rubbing roughly at my brow.
Kat had ordered me aflesh-lightfor when she was too sick to have sex. It’s like a sex doll without the doll. An artificial pussy with a handle, like a flashlight that you can fuck. I used it a couple times in front of her, at her request, but I’ve barely used it at all since she passed. Truth be told, it’s a pain in the ass. I mean, you have to lube up before using it, and moving this big flashlight thing up and down on your dick can be tedious. Plus, after you come, you’ve got to clean the jizz out from the inside of the rubber pussy.
Besides, I can hop in the shower and bust one out in a matter of minutes, and everything disappears down the drain. No muss, no fuss. Such is the sex life of a single man who doesn’t have sex. I thought about it tonight though. For a brief second, I thought about what it would be like to sink myself deep inside Tenley, have her wrap those long legs around my waist, and scream out my name as I pound into her.
But it was only for a second.
ThatI don’t admit aloud to Kat.
Instead, I pull into my drive and wait for the garage door to open. There was a time I thought I would raise a family in this house. With Kat. I spent a lot of time renovating with that in mind: spacious master bathroom with soaking tub, extra closet space, jack-n-jill bathroom between the two “kids” rooms, skylights and solar tubes for natural light, and a large open kitchen. There’s also dining, and living spaces, manicured lawns, a guest room/office space, and a garage that would fit two cars.
I rented it out when I moved into Kat’s house on the ocean. The tenants took proper care of it, except for the lawn and landscaping, something I also ignored until just a few months ago. I like flowers and flower gardens, so bringing those back to fruition has been a solid project that I’ve enjoyed. Now it’s almost back to where it was when I moved out so long ago.
I’ve flip-flopped and now rent out Kat’s house. I can’t bring myself to live in it, and I definitely can’t sell it, so I leased it to a nice young family who lost their home to a wildfire. They get a helluva deal on it, and I don’t mind that one bit.
I paid down both houses with Kat’s life insurance, then paid off her medical bills, and still have a tidy nest egg left over because my girl had over insured herself. For my benefit, I’m sure. We didn’t owe much on either house, so I plan to start a savings account for Ethan’s kid. He just doesn’t know it yet.
I kick off my shoes once again and plant myself on the couch in front of the sports channel. My knuckles are sore from hitting Neil, but not so bad that they are torn up. I wonder if he’ll tell the chief what I did. And if so, whether I’ll get in trouble for it. It was off duty, but we still have a code of conduct to follow at all times. Regardless of what happens I don’t regret a thing.
I grab a blanket and lounge deeper into the couch, fully prepared to sleep here. Even if Kat never slept in my bed here with me, I miss having her next to me when I sleep. It’s a feeling that is easier to ignore on a couch than a king-size bed.
19
Tenley
I get a text from Brad about an hour after I’ve woken up, telling me he and Nessa will be by around ten thirty to work on the recruitment fair. We had discussed working at my house before—if we wanted to get together on a day where Brad wasn’t working—but I didn’t think we had finalized anything. Not a day or a place. But I guess he, or they, decided without me. Now that he knows where I live, maybe it’s just as easy for him to come here, and he plans to pick up Nessa on his way.
This gives me just over an hour and a half to straighten up, make fresh iced tea and lemonade, and bake a batch of cookies. Then I can hopefully shower, find something cute but casual to wear, and make myself look good without looking like I tried to make myself look good. The hardest part of being a woman is all the time spent on your appearance, trying to look as though you spent no time at all. Not an easy line to straddle.
I finish with everything by nine forty-five and crank up the air conditioning to counter the oven having been on to bake the cookies, and make sure I have plenty of ice. Then I shower, change into a cute sundress, and dry and style my hair. I throw on some lip gloss and mascara, then try to dry the sweat forming along the sides of my nose without rubbing off my tinted moisturizer. Also a difficult line to straddle. I have a crush on a man who hates that I exist and my face sweats all the time. Clearly the universe hates me.
At least now it’s twenty minutes after ten, so I don’t have much longer to wait. I hate waiting for people to arrive when I’m ready for them. By people, I specifically mean Brad, since I doubt I would be nervous like this if it were just Nessa. And I know if it were Sadie, I wouldn’t care at all. I grab a magazine from my coffee table and flip through it, but it’s one I’ve already read cover to cover, so nothing grabs my attention.
I re-straighten the couch cushions and pillows and step back to survey the room. It’s inviting and warm, I know, with the large leather furniture in muted tones, puffy pillows, and soft throw rugs, light wood floors, and large windows letting in tons of light. The walls are a soft green with a light wood trim matching the floors, and framed black-and-white landscapes hang in a variety of places. A sofa table and the fireplace hearth both hold dozens of framed photos of friends, family, and I at various ages and locations—my favorite things in the room. Still, I can’t help but look at it with a critical eye right now.
The furniture is larger than I need, but being a tall girl means I’m not dwarfed by many things I sit in. So, I made sure my living room seating was big and cushy. It’s like I’m getting a great big hug every time I sit down. Including now, as I let my double-stuffed chair envelop me in its arms while I review my notes on what we’ve finished and what we have left to do. At the same time that it seems like we’ll never get everything done in time, I also can’t imagine it will take us too much longer, as the lists are about equal.
