“Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own.” -Robert A. Heinlein.
How many times do you want to pass out this summer? My inner voice cackles in my ear as I fight the heaviness that plagues my eyelids. I can faintly hear voices but who they belong to I’m not quite sure yet. There’s a man. Maybe two men? And a light voice, flitting around like chirping bird. Kyra. She’s here. Wait, where am I? Okay that’s right, I’m at Kyra’s Dad’s house. No! I’m at Owen’s house. Wait, my house? Breathe. This is crazy.
Suddenly blinking becomes easier and I manage to lift my eyelids, just slightly. I see Owen, his arms are crossed against his chest tightly and he shifts his weight nervously from foot to foot, listening to the man across from him. I blink again, trying to get the man to come into focus. I think the man is dressed in a white coat and then it dawns on me that it is a Doctor. Owen has called a Dr! To his house! What the hell must that have cost?! Then it dawns on me that I am now involved with someone who has no financial constraints or worries at all. Strange. Blinking harder, I try and lift my eyes but it feels like a lot of work so I stop for a moment and listen.
“It’s probably just a mild concussion, the tumble in the bathroom, then just, an agitating situation wrought with stress could’ve easily caused her to become overworked, light-headed,” he motions his arm forward to Owen whose beguiling expression tells me he’s not pleased in the slightest with this Doctor. Then I hear the small voice in the background, moving around and yep, there she is. I narrow my eyes to bring her into focus. Kyra paces nervously behind Owen and the Doctor, muttering things under her breath. I can’t hear her at all, she’s too far and I’m too foggy but seeing Owen, I fight the heaviness and strain to sit up. Ahh, there, I tap into a reserve of energy somewhere within me, dying to wrap my arms around Owen, for him to kiss me and tell me it’s all going to be okay. My eyes are completely open now and I’m pushing myself up. I struggle slightly and the bed creaks slightly under my scuffle, the three of them snap to me. Owen rushes to the side of the bed-his bed-and I realize he’s carried me to our room.
He sits down on the bed, facing me, and grabs my face in his hands, pulling my mouth to kiss him. He doesn’t mind that Kyra-whom has not yet put me in her good graces-stands two feet behind him. I have to assume she wouldn’t stay after I blacked out if she hates me, right? I hoped I was right.
“I liked your speech out there, darling,” he whispers to me, a smile curling at his lips. “I didn’t know some of those things.” The scarlet hue finds its way into my cheeks as I shrug demurely, giving him an embarrassed and coy smile. He reads me. Of course he does.
“Don’t be embarrassed. It was a very nice thing you did, sharing that for Kyra.”
His eyes move back and forth between mine, and he drops one hand from my face and rests it on my heart.
“You’re wonderful, Elizabeth, I want you to know that.”
Tears flash at my eyes and I blink them away. Why am I so emotional, damn it! I’d like to play it cool, just once.
“I wanted you to know, too,” I say, my voice so small I hope he can hear it.
“I want to talk to you about it later. Privately,” his eyes blaze and he kisses me on my forehead, down my nose and on my lips, leaving me with a longing burning so bright inside me that I almost don’t even want to talk to Kyra.
Almost.
He disappears somewhere and suddenly I am wondering where Marie is? I look around and don’t see her. Kyra, like her Dad, knows me well.
“She does leave here, sometimes you know,” she deadpans, sitting next to me on the bed, right where Owen sat.
I shrug.
“She’s running errands for my father. She usually does it on Mondays so that why you’ve never noticed.”
I nod, that answer is more than I thought I’d get. But now, I look at Kyra gazing down at her hands crumpled nervously in her lap and I am suddenly so sad. This is not the Kyra I recognize. Her normally cheerful and bubbling personality now seems damp, flat, deflated of life. Have we done this to her? Does this bother her that much? My stomach lurches at the idea that I would have to leave Owen for Kyra… but I think I would.
And then, she turns to face me, her eyes red, bloodshot, exhausted. And I remember, when she came into her father’s room, she was already crying.
Something happened.
“Hey,” I say, leaning forward and grabbing her hands in mine. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?” She whips her head to face me and begins to narrow her eyes at me, just slightly, but I stop her.
“No,” I say, serious and stern, “not this.”
And she cups her hands in her face and bawls, loudly, deep sobs, no words at all. I pull her into me and she leans her head on my shoulder, howling so loudly I start to worry. But I let her cry. I don’t know what’s going on but she needs to feel like I am here for her.
After a few minutes, she lazily pulls away from me, her eyelids heavy and swollen from anguish.
“Jason,” she sniffles, wiping her face hastily. “It was going so well, you know, we had spent basically the whole month together!” Then it hits her that of course I know because that’s when I was spending time with Owen. “Well, you know-it was a month,” she continues, “and everything was going so well. But I went for a swim in the lake early this morning and when I came back to our room, he wasn’t in bed. And then I found him going down on some girl on the deck! I literally have no idea who she was!”
She shakes her head and covers her face again.
“It’s really humiliating that this keeps happening to me.” I grab her hands and squeeze them tightly.
“It’s them, NOT you.” I pull her in for another deep hug and it feels so real, so genuine.
And there’s a sliver of hope.
“I was so upset and then I came home and I knew something was weird because I went to your room but everything was, you know, untouched. And I just, I don’t know, I knew, I guess. I think I knew that he was interested in you because he was just acting different. I don’t know,” she shakes her head and blinks a few times before continuing, her voice much lower now. “I’m not ready to like, embrace it comfortably, but I don’t hate you. I guess I just feel like I’m mourning you.”
I shake my head, no, no, I’ll still be around, but then I realize I won’t. I’ll be living at Owen’s. But then, oh Owen. The way his stomach ripples with muscle when he leans over, his soft hair falling over his face when it’s wet, his arms solid as they carry me tight to his chest, his desire to make me stronger, to love me wholly.
“I know, it will be weird to not live together. And it wasn’t an easy decision. It wasn’t. And I still want to be your best friend. But I understand if you can’t. I just need you to know I’m not choosing him over you. I’m just choosing love, finally,” I shake my head, simplifying it for her as much as I can. “He gives me the happiness I thought I’d never have. The life I thought I’d never have, that I thought I didn’t deserve.” She nods, knowingly and to my surprise, leans in and hugs me.
“But you’re not losing me. Only as a roommate. And I know it’s going to be super weird for a while but we will all adjust. I promise.”
She nods again then tilts her head. “It just sucks I can’t talk to you about my sex life anymore.”
I laugh, feeling the conversation lighten feels nice.
“Well, you can always tell me about your sex life. I think it’s me who shouldn’t be talking about mine.”
She laughs then grimaces, then her eyes widen.
“Oh my gosh, you were a…, and you guys,” she clutches her head in her hands and jumps up from the bed.
“Okay, okay, it’s going to take time but I’m okay with it. Okay? I really appreciate the drama in the kitchen but now I have to leave because if you force me to stay here, watching my best friend lay in my Dad’s bed- your.. new.. bed?-and come to the realization that my Dad pop-that you two had sex.” Her shoulders shiver in unison with her head. “And you guys will keep having it,” she shakes her head hard and squeezes her eyes shut. “No, see, I’m not ready for that part. I mean I’ll never be ready to talk about the shit my Dad does to you but,” she slows and takes a breath. “But I want you to know that I love you, I understand, and we will be okay… it just will take time.”
My heart swells. “I’m sorry about Jason but you were way too good for him anyway.”
She smiles and slips out, closing the door behind her. I settle down into the pillows, feeling exhausted still, and relief cloaks me, happiness too.
OWEN BREEZES in and pulls his shirt off over his head, grabbing it behind his neck. Watching him rip his shirt off is quite possibly one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen. In a flash his belt skips across the wood floor, his jeans are gone and he is climbing in bed over me. I want to know what he and Kyra talked about but I also want him to know that I understand his relationship with Kyra comes before us. That’s what a real parent does. But then I feel that thick ridge of his pushing up between my legs, pushing against my white cotton panties, teasing me. I push my head back deeper into the pillows and his lips swallow my neck, tasting my skin with each heady kiss.
“Owen,” I purr, my eyes closed, my body nearly lifting off the bed to reach his, to feel him pressed against me. I’ve been waiting so patiently, but now, I need him. He lowers himself and I feel him grab my panties and rip off them off, and I gasp with shock, pleasure. Being handled, being taken by him in our most needy and primal state; the wetness pooling inside of me breaks through, spilling down my bare ass onto the bed. I lift my head, still sore, and press my lips to his earlobe. My tongue tastes the curve and I nip it, gently, before whispering: “I’m so wet for you, baby.”
I can feel commotion between my thighs and I realize Owen is taking himself out of his boxer briefs. I look down between our bodies and see his steel spring free, flushed and swollen. He moves the tip of himself to my opening and kisses me while he enters, slow and unrelenting until our bodies are flush.
“I need you,” I whimper, my lips still pressed to his ear.
He doesn’t say anything, but he groans. Oh, does he ever groan. His groan comes from deep within him, vibrating in my mouth as he takes mine with his. I can feel his groan in my belly as he fills my mouth with his tongue, his thighs slapping against the underside of me as he fucks me harder now. Out of nowhere, he wraps his hands on my face and grabs my gaze.
“Look at me,” he growls, flames dancing in his eyes. “I fucking love you, do you know that?”
And I can’t answer because he’s swooped down and kissed me, then he kisses the corner of my mouth and instinctively I throw back my head. He tongues at the soft spot on my neck and my toes curl, I dig my heels into the small of his back and moan loudly. He puts his thumbs under my chin and directs my head back further, kissing me.
“I know,” I pant and with that, I let go.
The fireworks fly off around my eyes, illuminating the blackness that has washed over me. My heart is beating everywhere-I can feel my pulse throbbing as my body surrenders to him. I grip his member with mine-oh his massive, glorious, perfect member. And I feel his moans, buried deep in my hair, and then I am warm, from the inside out. He releases into me, the power of his orgasm nearly bringing me to tears. Oh, how I love this man, tucked inside me, making love to me, showing me his love. When he pulls away from me, I am a magnet for him and I follow him to his side of the bed and tuck myself into his nook, which he accepts, pulling me in tighter. And we catch our breath and sleep takes us.