Forever With You (Silver State Series) (16 page)

Chapter 13 – Feel It All

Friday, September 9

Tawny – 3:45 PM

“
A
ll right, that’s it for today.  Have a nice weekend, and don’t forget your first drafts are due a week from today.”  Sanjay, our graduate TA, turns his back to the classroom and begins erasing the whiteboard as the lecture hall fills with the sounds of chairs scraping and bags zipping.

Aiden and I walk outside together, as has become our custom over the past week.  The sun is warm, but a breeze has picked up.  I zip my windbreaker against the chill as we push out the doors that empty onto the quad.

“Do you think you’ll go to dinner tonight?” asks Aiden.  I look at him, trying to piece together what he could be referring to.  I vaguely recall Milly mentioning something about a group from our class going out for dinner this evening, but I was too distracted at the time to absorb the details.

“Umm…yeah, maybe.  Where did she say it is again?”

“Kildare’s.  Six forty-five.  So you think you can make it?”

“Probably,” I say with a shrug as we approach the corner where Aiden and I normally go our separate ways.

“Okay, hopefully see ya there then,” he says, throwing me a friendly smile before turning to head east in the direction of his apartment building.

I take my time walking back to Argenta.  I pull out my phone to turn the volume back up, and I’m a bit sad when I see there aren’t any text messages waiting for me.  Kyle and I have kept in touch on and off this week via text – he’s called me a few times, but I’m ashamed to say I’ve been screening his calls, preferring to rely on more detached methods of communication.  I’ve thrown out a couple of semi-cogent excuses for never being able to answer the phone, but I fear Kyle’s interest is waning, since the number of messages he’s left me has dwindled markedly since sometime yesterday.  I know I should call him, but I’ve legitimately
needed
my space to sift through the thoughts rattling around my brain.  Putting some distance between us has been my primary goal this week.

When I get back to my room, I can hear water running in the bathroom, indicating Beatrix is in the shower.  Harumi is gone, of course, because she has a class that runs late on Friday afternoons.  I drop my backpack and iPod on my bed, then lie down and face the wall, thankful for the few minutes of solitude.

It isn’t until later I realize I must have fallen asleep; my arm is numb from lying on it, and there’s a small wet spot on my pillow where I’ve drooled.  I blink a few times as I try to regain my bearings.  The lights are out, and the room is quiet.  I twist around to look at the alarm clock on my nightstand, and I’m shocked when I see it’s already 6:30 – that means I slept for over two hours!  And it’s already time to start walking to dinner.

I roll off the bed and rise slowly to keep from feeling faint.  I glance down at my jeans and four-button crewneck t-shirt, then at my closet, considering whether I should change clothes.  Ultimately I decide against it.  It isn’t as if I’m trying to impress anyone.

Pushing my shirtsleeves up to my elbows, I walk into the bathroom and flip on the lights over the sink.  I let my hair down out of its ponytail and comb my fingers through it, then twirl it into a bun, securing it at the nape of my neck with a few hairpins.  Finally I stuff my feet into a pair of Birkenstock clogs and shrug back into my red windbreaker.

I trudge along North Virginia toward Kildare’s, a restaurant that serves Irish pub fare and features live music on Friday and Saturday nights.  When I get there seven of my classmates, including Milly and Aiden, are already huddled around a large rectangular table in the back, while a man with a long beard strums an acoustic guitar at the front of the restaurant.  Aiden’s face lights up when he sees me; he stands and begins scooting chairs around to make space for me along the back wall.  I drop into my seat, still feeling groggy from my late nap.  A waitress brings me a menu and begins taking orders from the rest of the group.

While the others carry on a conversation about the spring semester trip to Istanbul, Aiden leans closer to me.  He rests one arm on the table and places his other hand behind me on the back of my chair.  “So what are you doing this weekend?” he asks.

“I have a lot of homework,” I say, heaving a tired sigh.  “I need to go to the library and work on our project – I feel like I’m behind.”

He nods.  “What besides homework?  You have to do
something
fun.”

I shrug.  “No plans.”

“There’s a magic show at one of the casinos on Sunday – a buddy of mine got some extra tickets.  Why don’t you come?”

I smile.  Aiden really is nice, and attractive, and interesting.  If I wasn’t so wrapped up in Kyle at the moment I’d probably have a crush on him.  Unfortunately – and maybe it’s just my present dazed state of mind – when I think of going on a
date
with Aiden, it just makes me feel
tired
.  On the other hand, it’d probably be a good idea to get out and socialize with someone other than the person I seem to be so helplessly obsessed with.

“Would it be all right if I let you know a little later?  Let me see how much work I can get done tomorrow.”  A copout, perhaps, but at least it will buy me some time.

“Of course,” he says.  He leans back with a triumphant grin, as if he’s already won.  It’s nice to be able to make someone that happy just by saying “maybe.”

I haven’t had much of an appetite, and I’m dismayed to find even the aroma that wafts from my shepherd’s pie isn’t enough to evoke my hunger.  I spend the meal pushing my food around my bowl and nibbling on soda bread while interacting with my classmates to the best of my ability.  Aiden seems to notice something is up – he keeps darting me questioning glances – but he doesn’t say anything.

Our plates have just been cleared and the waitress is distributing our checks when my phone begins to vibrate.  My heart leaps into my throat when I look down and notice it’s Kyle calling.  Quickly I stand up and scoot past the others seated around me, making an excuse about needing to use the restroom.  I slip out the side entrance by the bar and tap on Answer.

“Hello?”

“Hey!  Wow, you actually answered your phone this time.”

I offer a feeble laugh.  “Yeah, whaddya know?”

“What are you up to tonight?”

“Just having dinner with some friends,” I reply, twisting a stray lock of hair that’s fallen loose from my bun around my finger and giving it a firm tug – it’s an old nervous habit of mine I’ve been desperate to break.  I’d been pretty successful for the past several months – that is until Kyle came back into my life.

“What are you doing after that?” he prods.

Until a moment ago I’d been thinking of walking back to my dorm and going straight to bed, but now energy hums through me at high frequency, heightening my senses and causing me to feel hyper vigilant.

“I guess I hadn’t really thought that far ahead,” I answer.

“Come over,” he says.

I chew on my lip, pretending to think it over. 
Is this considered a booty call?
I wonder.  Not that it matters much – truthfully my mind was made up the second the words crossed Kyle’s lips.  An idea dawns on me, however – a way to do things on my own terms.

“I can’t come over tonight,” I tell him, “but you can come to
my
room and hang out.”

Kyle – 8:30 PM

I
have no idea why Tawny would want to hang out in her dorm room instead of coming to my place, but I’m not in a position to argue with her.  She meets me at the front entrance to let me in, and she’s definitely a sight for sore eyes.  Looking at her now, it’s hard to believe it was just four days ago that I saw her – it seems more like a month.  I’ve spent days poring over every photo I took last Monday, consistently in awe of how
good
she looks in almost every shot.  The process of weeding out which four or five to add to my portfolio was nothing short of grueling.

I told myself earlier when I called, if she didn’t answer this time I wasn’t going to try again for a while – no sense hounding her.  When she picked up it felt like a two ton weight lifted off my chest.  I mean, I took her
virginity
, for Christ’s sake.  I’ve lived this entire week terrified she might be having major regrets and was too afraid to face me.

I follow her to the bank of elevators, and we ride silently up to the sixth floor, two floors above where I lived last year.  Tawny has propped her spring-loaded door open with a tennis shoe; she pushes it open to reveal a tidy room with a pretty nice view of campus.  I’m relieved to find we’re alone.

Tawny goes over to a desk on the right side of the room and pulls a chain to switch on the lamp, filling the room with a dim, warm light.  My eyes flick involuntarily to the bed that must be hers – it’s covered in a navy blue comforter that’s patterned with little white flowers.  I hate myself for the fact my mind flashes immediately to the thought of us having sex in that narrow space; I have to remind myself I didn’t come here with any ulterior motives.

Tawny glances up at me questioningly, and I suddenly realize I haven’t budged from the entrance to the room since the door swung shut behind me.  Slowly I walk toward her, attempting to read her expression and her body language as I approach her.  Her eyes lock on mine and she seems to freeze, her body taut as she holds my gaze. 

“Do you want anything to drink?” she asks when I’m within a few feet of her.  Her voice comes out sort of funny and strangled, like the back of her throat has something stuck in it.

“What do you have?” I ask.

She goes to the mini fridge beneath the lofted bed near the door and crouches down to inspect its contents.  “There’s Dr. Pepper?” she says.

“That sounds good,” I reply.  She pops one open and hands it to me; our fingers touch as I curve my hand around the cold can, and Tawny flashes me a crooked smile as she withdraws her reach.  I take a sip from the can, savoring the feel of the microscopic bubbles sliding down the back of my throat on the current of cold liquid.  When I lower the can Tawny is still watching me; she licks her lips, and suddenly I’m affected with the need to feel my hands on her.  I set my drink on the desk and take a step closer, every nerve fiber on high alert for any sign of discomfort on Tawny’s part.  Instead of tensing up, though, she seems to incrementally relax as I lower my head to push my lips against her slightly open mouth.

Tawny – 8:45 PM

E
arlier this week I was taking Motrin all the time and keeping my legs crossed whenever possible to help alleviate the soreness between my legs; by Wednesday I was, thankfully, feeling much better.  The throbbing that resonates there now is a different sort of ache – it spreads outward like a traveling heat wave, igniting every cell in my body until the need for Kyle to really
touch
me becomes almost overwhelming.

The decision to bring him back here had been based on the assumption we’d have at least a couple of hours together alone.  Beatrix went home for the weekend, and Harumi is always out well past midnight on Friday nights.  I suppose there’s a chance tonight could be the exception to that rule, but I doubt it.

I cling to Kyle with everything I have as he laces his fingers at the small of my back and pulls the length of my body against his.  My mind is whirling as I scramble to work out logistics.  The only hitch I foresee stems from the fact I don’t keep condoms around – maybe Kyle will have one in his pocket like he did last time?

Enough worrying, though – now isn’t the time for reason and logic.  I take a deep breath to relax my shoulders and push all extraneous thoughts to the periphery, allowing myself to be sucked into the moment.  I use the tip of my tongue to trace the edge of his upper lip, and Kyle groans softly in my mouth, fisting his hand in my shirt.  I slide my hands up under his t-shirt, pressing against his stomach and feeling up the sides of his ribs.  He breaks our lip lock only long enough to strip the shirt off over his head, then finds my mouth again.

A moment later he breaks away again, panting, and peers down at me, his eyes darting across my face like he’s reading a book.  “How much time do we have?” he asks.

I glance at the clock on my desk, then back up at him.  “Probably a few hours.”

He holds my face tightly between his hands and says, “Just tell me if you want me to stop” – then his fingers go to the waistband of my jeans and begin to unbutton them.  I suck in a breath to steady the throb pulsing through my body and wait for Kyle to finish undressing me.  He gently removes each article of clothing, beginning with my pants and shirt and ending with my bra and panties.

He begins to unfasten his own belt, but he willingly surrenders control when I nudge his hands away and take over.  Once we’re both completely naked we stand only six inches apart, our shoulders rising and falling with every exaggerated breath, wordlessly challenging one another to refrain from touching for as long as we can.  My eyes move to his erection, and his sweep from my face down to my breasts and then my crotch.

I’m momentarily distracted by the glare of the lights through the window, and Kyle watches as I slip away long enough to draw the drapes; as I tug them into place he turns to check the lock on the door.  A frenzy ensues when we meet back in the middle; we collapse in a furious tangle of limbs on my bed, desperate to have us much of our respective surface areas in contact as possible.  I gasp when Kyle’s fifth appendage slaps between my legs, and I can feel myself dripping in anticipation of having him inside me again.

He peels himself off me only halfway, allowing enough space to reach between us and rub his fingers through my wetness.  “Are you sore at all?” he asks with some concern.

I shake my head.  “Not anymore.”

In response he smashes his lips against mine with renewed fervor; he grips himself and swipes the head of his penis up and down between my folds.  We both cry out in surprise and rapture when the tip of it accidentally slips in.  Immediately Kyle stops moving.  He lifts himself up on his elbows above me, his face panic-stricken, but he doesn’t pull out like I expect him to.