Page 25 of The Sky in Summer
“I’m about fifty percent more sober than I was at the pool. How about you?”
“I’m walking a little steadier after the cold shower.”
Cold shower? Was that because of me? He exits the kitchen, leaving me to my dirty thoughts. I grab napkins and sugar and set them on the tray. Pouring two coffees, I use the few minutes to think out what to do. What I want is not in question. The problem is to think of a good reason not to be my authentic self. Other than the most obvious ones. It could ruin the solid friendship that seems destined. Or someone could find out. Oh God, that would be awful. Especially if the boys heard about our lack of control. I never want the boys to think their mother is acting like a whore. That’s about the weirdest statement a mother can make.
But if I can’t fight those solid reasons to choose therightdecision, there’s no hope whatsoever.
The sliver of space he has used to get in my head appears to have widened. Oh shit. Once the way in is seen, I cannot unsee it. I want Van in my bed. Or on the floor, kitchen counter, or shower. I would do it with him in the mud room if he requested. Suddenly the apartment takes on new and better juju. I see now what I never noticed before. This place is a great setting for a fuckfest.
If not with a man I actually like than who? This lack of a sex life isn’t going to fix itself, and I will eventually be an old dried-up prune if the course isn’t reversed. Dust bunnies will emanate from my vagina, and people will feel sorry for the old woman who never got laid after the age of thirty-two.
However it passes through my mind, whatever excuse I lean on, it comes down to this. I really, really want him. What is also true is the knowledge it will never be anything more serious. I am under no illusion he is anything other than a fuckboy. But a very nice one. That counts for something, doesn’t it?
“Layla! Where you at?”
“Here,” I say, appearing at the door.
He rises from the comfy chaise and takes the tray, setting it on the glass table.
“Sit here.”
My raised eyebrow questions the setup.
“I may want to whisper something in your ear. It won’t work if you are too far away,” he says.
He looks surprised when I do not object.
“What if I called your bluff?” I say.
A devilish grin appears. “Are you?”
“Yeah. Now what are you going to do about it, Pepe?”
“Let me show you.”
Van lays back where he was but scoots over, making room for another. Reaching out, he takes my hand, pulling me down. I wiggle myself into place, laying dangerously close for someone who wanted to use self-control ten minutes ago. Every part of our bodies is touching. Food and drink? Who needs it? Fuck everything other than fucking. I take a moment to lay down the ground rules.
“We’re just friends. Remember that in case you forget everything else,” I say firmly. “And nobody caneverknow about this!”
“I don’t want to lose the friendship either. Now shut the hell up and let’s get crazy.”
Our eyes don’t leave the other’s gaze. For a few seconds it is as if the scene has frozen. Like life’s soundtrack has quieted before the big opening score.
“Have I told you I like what your mouth does to me?” I say, going in for the kiss.
He takes a fistful of my hair and leans my head back. “Then you’re going to love my dick.”
The soaring score begins. The world floats away, into space, out of the reach of time. Something in the way he touches my face and winds my hair into his hand, makes me want these moments to last forever. How he leans my head back and kisses my neck. All as good as imagined. There is no retreat of any kind. His jaw tightens, my pulse races. Blue eyes take in the shape of me through the baggy sweatshirt. Somehow, I feel naked. Is X-ray vision one of his superpowers?
Head dipped his mouth kisses my breasts through the thick fabric. There’s no going back now. No more barriers. There may not be one solid reason to think this is a good idea, and a hundred to know it is not. Regardless, it is happening. Suspending disbelief, I go all in.
Never have I felt the wild animal living within me. Until now. She rises and becomes dominant, easily taking down the tame human I thought was the real me. She is happy to be let loose. It’s the free feeling I love and so easily identified with. Who knew being out of control would be so appealing? There is an element of stalking. The man for me, me for him. Then it becomes a rage of passion. Unleashed and raw.
Van makes his aim clear. Tonight, I am his. It’s all over his face, and in the kisses which have sparked a bonfire. Desire spreads to our hands, whose mission is to explore. Under clothes, over skin. He abruptly stops and adds a rule of his own.
“I don’t want you to make this decision drunk. Now is the time to stop if you are going to regret it tomorrow.”
“Drunk or sober, I’m coming to the same conclusion.”
