Sick Day (15 page)

“Cameron,” she breathed, pulling her mouth away from mine and burying her face. My middle finger massaged her clit before reaching even farther south and dipping into her, just a shallow taste on my fingertip. “Oh, fuck,” she said, then either bit down on my neck or sucked on it, hard.

The elevator came to a stop, and I jumped back against the opposite wall. I watched Hope, her face flushed with the hint of perspiration at her hairline. She shuddered and grabbed the railing for support.

A trio of men in suits stepped aboard, none of them paying much attention to either of us. When Hope turned her attention back to me, I very deliberately lifted my middle finger to my lips and despite the way she shook her head—
don’t you dare
, she seemed to warn me—I savored the taste of her in my mouth. Her eyes rolled back as she turned her attention away.

My little display did nothing to lighten the tension between us, not to mention the discomfort in the crotch of my pants.

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W
e stepped outside, the sun beating down on us. Although it was the same patio as before, the world felt foreign to me now that Hope was there to enjoy it with me. Neither of us spoke, but we shared a glance before she laced her hand in mine and took off sprinting, nearly ripping my arm out of its socket.

She laughed, knowing she’d caught me off-guard, and it was infectious. Her giddiness reached deep down into my stomach, filling me with a satisfaction I could only describe as hope. All this time without Hope felt like wasted worry all of a sudden. I had written her off, written off this very feeling as the final fairy tale, the stuff of Easter Bunnies and Santa Claus, the one piece we cling to as humans and, even as adults, are reluctant to let go. That final piece was
this
; it was the kind of true love that Hope had dismissed in her poem all those years ago. But it existed, and it was real. It was
us
. She was my soul mate, my air; it wasn’t a lie.

We crossed the river, and I glanced toward the little spot where Raj had brought me for lunch. He was gone now, and the spot looked lonely, abandoned.

“Where are we going?” I asked as we sprinted past the Opera House.

She glanced back, her eyes projecting nothing but common-sense honesty. “My hotel.”

“I’m supposed to be getting married in—” even to my own ears, the response sounded rehearsed.

“Cameron,” she said, stopping for a traffic light and taking my face with her hands again. She gave me a crooked grin that revealed all of her insecurities and scars, all of her beauty in the flash of an instant. “You can’t touch me like you did in that elevator and think I’m going to pretend this doesn’t exist between us anymore.”

And then she kissed me before our light turned green.

She darted off again, and I struggled to keep up with her, wondering the entire time whether people thought we had just robbed a bank in our designer clothes, trendy shoes, and stupid-big smiles on our faces as we made our way to her hotel.

Once we entered the uptight lobby, the desk clerk shot her a careful glare.

“Welcome back, Miss McManus,” the clerk said as Hope pulled me past the desk. “We thought you were…”

We didn’t hear the rest of what he said because we had already boarded the next elevator. With a trembling finger, Hope pressed the button for the tenth floor. During the very short and quick ascent, we didn’t kiss, and we barely touched. We simply stared and smiled at each other, two high school kids stuck in their twenties with the complications of their respective relationships standing between them, their hands brushing, their glares tentative.

She mouthed the words, “I want you,” then started to pout in that teasing, seductive way that only Hope could pull off. I wanted her, too, wanted those pouty lips on mine so badly that I ached for them. But when I closed my eyes and leaned in for a kiss, she pushed me away.

The doors opened. Taking my hand, she led the way to her room, a few doors down on the left. The room had a nice view of the Chicago River, the bridges joining the north and south sides of the city before the water branched left and right in the distance. Standing there, I knew that I would remember this room forever, just like I remembered our first time, our last time, and all the times in between—in the car, my bedroom when my parents were out, the basement of her parents’ house while we pretended to watch movies underneath a heavy blanket…

Despite the familiarity between us, it had been such a long time. My gut churned with the anticipation of loving her again.

Hope reached down to my waist and unbuckled my pants, tugging them down to my knees before reaching into my boxers and stroking me softly. Her hand felt soft against my rigid, throbbing shaft. She had that perfect touch, and at just the right moment, she lowered herself to the floor and took me in her mouth.

I didn’t realize that my eyes had rolled back until I couldn’t see anything but the blackness on the inside of my eyelids. Even then, Hope’s face seemed to beam back at me through that darkness.

It didn’t take long for the hunger from the elevator to return. And it was ravenous. Snapping back to reality, I reached down and somehow scooped her up into my arms. She didn’t yelp or protest. Instead, she wrapped her arms around my neck, one hand brushing through my hair until she secured a firm grip. Tugging at my hair, she angled my face toward hers, and I lost myself in her hazel eyes. I remembered that stare—it was knowing and lost at the same time.

She kissed me, her own insatiable hunger back as well. Like that day on the wet grass, only unrestrained like back in high school.

Lowering her onto the bed, I fumbled to get her out of her shirt, but she refused to stop kissing me. She wrapped her legs around me again, locking me against her with a firm and unmistakable strength.

“I miss you,” I whispered, pulling my mouth from hers long enough to refill my lungs with air and to slide her shirt over her head.

My hands found her breasts, my fingers circled her hard nipples, and then I pinched them lightly, but hard enough to make her feel the slightest amount of pressure.

She let out a soft moan. “Cameron…” she pleaded.

“I want to lick your face,” I said, the words slipping out of my mouth without my knowledge.

“I’ll cut you if you try.” It was the softest threat I had ever heard, and it made my dick throb.

While my lips kissed a path along the vein at side of her neck, across her collarbone—she always loved that—and down to those hard nipples, my hand slipped into her panties. Hope spread her legs a little wider, just enough for me to notice. She wanted me touching her. I continued to massage her clit, picking up where I had been forced to let go in that elevator.

I felt her heart beating erratically beneath her chest, her breathing deepening. She grabbed my free hand and brought it to her mouth, sucking gently on my fingers.

“Oh, Cameron,” she continued, her eyes rolling back like they had in the elevator, only this time I watched them disappear behind her closed eyelids. She gave herself to me.

My tongue licked a path past her navel, and I drew my hand from her mouth. Glancing up her body, I caught her staring at me, her cheeks rosy once again, her teeth biting down on her lip. I watched her as I
unzipped the back of her skirt and pulled it off. I hooked my fingers around her black, lacy panties, but when I glanced back at her face for approval, she shook her head. No.

“Hope,” I begged. When I started tugging at her panties, she stopped me, so I took her leg with my hand and circled my tongue around the inside of her knee, still watching her as she slammed her head back, exposing the length of her neck.

Moving along the inside of her thigh, she stopped me when I reached her moist core, my tongue tracing along the elastic of those panties.

“No, Cameron,” she said, her voice hitched. She gripped my hair again, this time using force.

“What?” I asked, bringing my fingers to her clit and massaging her again before we engaged in a staring contest.

“You’re going to make me come,” she remarked, her voice hitching.

I nodded.
Duh, wasn’t that the point?

She shook her head again. “I want us to come together.”

Using her feet and legs, she peeled me out of my pants and boxers, exposing me. Hovering above her, she pulled me down onto her, releasing my hair and using her hand to stroke my shaft once, twice. I loved how gently she worked me. I stared down and watched her hand guide me toward her wet, wanting pussy. Once I knew I was close enough, I tried to edge myself inside her, but she stopped me.

Shifting my attention, I asked, “What’s wrong?”

And that was when she returned to me, the version of Hope I had known for all of those years. The beautiful and perfect Hope who I had loved so fiercely, the one I would never stop loving. It was the vulnerable and pure Hope.

“I still love you,” she said, her eyes tearing up.

“I’ve never stopped, never will,” I promised, making sure she knew I wasn’t fucking around.

When her hand left my shaft, I reached down and pressed the tip against her moist lips.

“Love me, Cameron,” she pleaded, her eyes closing and her mouth jumping at mine. We kissed hard, lost in the thrusts, my hands gripping hers so fiercely that my fingers went numb.

“I love you, Hope,” I moaned, and she knew what that meant.

Somehow, she was straddling me now, grinding her hips against mine, and she held my hands above my head, her hair in my face. “Look at me,” she said, her short and rapid breaths in my face.

I opened my eyes, found hers. She smiled as best she could given the increasing speed of my movement.

“Look at me when you come inside me, Cameron.”

I fought to keep my eyes open so I could see her complete abandon, the emotion building up in her face. She came first, her muscles tightening, convulsing against my shaft. She moaned and fought the urge to close her eyes against the ecstasy of her orgasm.

Watching her, feeling her come against me…it spelled my end as well. Arching my neck back, I fought the urge to release.

“Cameron!” she moaned, her muscles still contracting. She grabbed my face and forced me to look at her, her hips moving fast and hard. “I… I…” She moaned again.

At last, I came, my eyes locked on hers the entire time.

Collapsing on my chest, Hope rested her head on the pillow next to mine.

“Don’t leave me, Cameron,” she whispered, spent and exhausted. “Please don’t ever leave me again.”

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T
he Ferris wheel on Navy Pier that night allowed a spectacular view of the city lights, the shores of Lake Michigan, and all the way into the darkness behind us. As the wheel climbed upward, the street-level sounds dimmed, allowing just the hush of the breeze to roll across us.

Hope rested her head on my shoulder, her hand wrapped in mine. I closed my eyes as she snuggled into me, realizing that in a few weeks’ time, I would have
become a married man if Hope hadn’t shown up. I didn’t know how I should feel about what had happened today, about how our life together meant such drastic change for her old man (literally) and Riley. No matter how right it seemed in my heart, I was pretty certain that my ex-fiancée would not see things this way.

But at this moment in time, nothing else mattered. Not the nuptials I had to cancel, not even Riley’s feelings. All that mattered was Hope’s head on my shoulder, her hand in mine, her warmth against me.

“Why did you disappear, Cameron?” she asked.

Her voice forced my eyes open. I nuzzled my nose into her hair and breathed her in, hoping to stain my lungs with her essence because I wanted her with me forever. But even that evening, riding the Ferris wheel with Hope, I knew our time together would not last. Two heartbeats ago, I had accepted walking away from Riley and our wedding date. But I
felt
that Hope would not allow me to.

“I came here to find you, Cameron,” she continued, her words filled with ache. “And I found that you were living a happy life with a pretty woman who would keep you happy. That’s all I needed to see. I could’ve let go. But now…now I want to know again. I don’t care if you’re happy with Riley. I don’t care if she’s where your days begin and end.” She let out a sigh and pulled her head off my shoulder. After studying me for a beat, she kissed me, hard, and it happened in-sync with the wheel making its next upward climb. I felt like I was flying.

“I love you,” I said when she pulled back. “I don’t want to go home, I want to stay here forever.”

“I’m here,” she said. “And I don’t want you to go home. But if you don’t tell me why you disappeared, you’ll never see me again. I can’t keep beating myself up over this.”

I nodded, understanding. “I didn’t want the hurt. I didn’t want to know how you dealt with our goodbye. I know what
I
did and how I dealt with your absence. I know that my first semester was a dry one, and I lost a bit of weight and hated how life looked without you.”

She remained silent, listening to my words without interrupting me. 

“But then I found Riley, and she filled those gaps.” I felt my throat constricting. “I love her for that, for bringing color back into my days and for reminding me that I could smile. She’s pretty and smart, and she replaced everything you were to me. She was that piece that made my life worthwhile. If life were a battery-operated gadget, she was my battery, just like you were. So without you around, I turned to Riley. She wasn’t a replacement, or at least she didn’t feel like one. She was just…her. I rediscovered what happy meant because of her.”

As much as I hated sharing all of this with Hope, I could tell, by the way her mouth hung open, that hearing my words stung. A lot. I wondered if she regretted pushing me into this confession in the first place.

“I could’ve walked away at any time, just like it felt like you walked away from me after you left me that poem,” I continued, the Ferris wheel making its final approach to the loading platform. “But I couldn’t. I couldn’t walk away from Riley because I was afraid of finding you with your own male version of my happiness.” I took a deep breath for courage. “Like seeing you today with that old guy.”

I searched her eyes for a hint. Why did she have a hotel room all to herself when the guy who put a ring on her finger was right here in Chicago? What was Hope’s real story? What was she doing in Chicago after all these years? Why hadn’t she left yet when she told me she would only be here until this week?

“I don’t want to go home tonight, Hope,” I confessed, squeezing her hand. Part of me feared she might take a swing at me, but she didn’t. Instead, her hand remained limp in mine. “My time without you has killed me, absolutely killed me. I’ve split my heart into two these last seven years.”

The ride operator greeted us with a smile and opened the door to let us off. We weren’t quick to get up and disembark, but I took the lead and Hope followed.

“Where to?” I asked.

She gave a dismissive nod toward the far end of the pier that protruded out to Lake Michigan. There were
a few people walking to that end, promising a bit of privacy so we could finish talking about this. So I led her that way, giving her hand another quick squeeze.

“Cameron,” she said, her voice beaten and worn down all of a sudden. “Tell me about these dual hearts.”

I took a deep breath, nodding. “I had one part of my heart that existed for the life that Riley gave me. It wasn’t the life of happiness I had envisioned for myself, wasn’t the life that you’re giving me. But it was a life. It was just one small part of me, of my heart.” I heaved a deep breath. “The other part of my heart, though? It’s the part reserved for you, for all of the perfection and
living
that you made possible, that you promised. And that’s what it is; it’s my hope. The hope that you will find me, just like you have. The hope that you will love me always, just like you do.”

“But I can’t,” she whispered across the soft
gusts coming off the lake.

I stopped her and pulled her into a tight embrace. I let her melt into me before continuing. “You can’t stop this love, Hope. You can fight it and bury it
, but you can’t stop it. Trust me.”

“Stop,” she said, gripping me tighter. “Stop talking.”

I felt her hand sliding up my back, tightening between my shoulders before settling at the base of my skull.

“I can’t,” I told her, my eyes burning now. “Just like I couldn’t bury you in my past. Because no matter how much you belonged there, no matter how much I wanted to banish you to that dark compartment of memories and sadness, I just couldn’t.  I tried.”

“Cameron,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “You’re killing me.”

“You’re here, Hope, a
nd I’m here. We’re together like we’re supposed to be.” I pulled her away from me, so she could see the tears in my eyes, and I could see the tears in hers. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” I confessed. “I love Riley, I swear I love her.”

When one of those tears rolled down her face, I leaned in and kissed it away. I would’ve kissed those tears away for the rest of my life, if only she would allow me.

“Cameron,” she said, blinking and setting free several more tears. “I know you don’t love her like you love me.”

I shook my head. “No. I don’t, Hope. And I’m afraid that if you and I walk away from this, we walk away from…” I stared up at the sky, the stars, and moon. “If we walk away, we leave everything. And that’s not how I want to live, Hope. I can’t have two halves of one life. One that belongs exclusively to you, and the other that belongs to the hope of replacing you. I can’t…I can’t…exist without you.”

She stared off, back toward the crowds. I figured she might be searching for an escape into
her
other life, the half that had allowed her to move on. The half that must’ve broken two weeks ago when she showed up outside my townhouse in the pouring rain.

She allowed a grin, but it flickered on her lips so quickly that anyone else would’ve questioned its very existence. But I caught it. Not because I had perfect 20/20 vision either. I felt that smile in the form of a skipped heartbeat.

“Don’t make me go home tonight,” I begged.

When her eyes found mine again, she nodded. I didn’t know what it meant, though. Was she nodding because I
had
to go home, or did she want me to stick around?

“Talk to me,” I begged.

“I can’t,” she whispered. “If I talk, I’ll lose everything I came here for.”

When I opened my mouth and started to speak, she placed a finger over my lips to silence me.

Leaning forward, she brought her mouth to my ear, and in a broken whisper, she asked, “Take me back to the hotel. Love me. Remember me. And then tell me whether or not you exist for me.”

“I don’t need to make love to you to know that, Hope. All I need is to take a breath of you.”

“Then breathe me, all of me,” she begged. “In my hotel room.”

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