Hold On

“Okay, so if you weren’t gonna get up in my face about seein’ someone to sort my shit out, what do we gotta talk about?” I asked.

“The fact that you clearly think it’s weak to show emotion and to describe ‘weak’ you refer to bein’ a girl. Showing emotion isn’t weak. Showing emotion takes a lot of courage. Trusting someone to give shit to that you can’t hold inside anymore isn’t weak either. I know this because a wise, pretty, brown-eyed woman told me this not two months ago. And if we have girls, I don’t want you teachin’ them that they can’t be girls however they wanna be girls and that anything girl-like is weak. ‘Cause that shit ain’t right.”

I was staring again.

Then I was weeping again.

Finally, I was blurting again.

“If we have girls?”

“You want more kids?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Then that can happen, fifty-fifty chance, and if they like butterflies and flowers and have no interest in bein’ tough chicks, gotta know you’re on board with that.”

I was on board.

So on board.

Still whispering (and blurting and weeping), I said, “I love you.”

Merry was whispering too when he replied, “Love you too, Cherie.”

“Can I look at your back now?” I asked softly.

He fell back, doing it twisting.

When he had me back to the bed and him pressed into me, he said, “After I fuck you again.”

My arms around him tightened as my brows went up. “Not concerned about another episode?”

“This time I do you, I’ll be lookin’ in your eyes.”

I liked it like that.

Enough to lift my head and press my lips to his.

He pushed back so my head was to the pillow and opened his mouth.

Our tongues tangled at the same time.

Merry didn’t do me looking in my eyes the whole time.

But it was me who lost eye contact when he made me come.

I would find out later I did draw blood on his back. Two lines, one deeper than the other along his shoulder blade.

I was careful as I washed them in the shower. I gooed them up with Neosporin before we snarfed down donuts.

But the ointment ended up on Merry’s sheets.

What could I say?

We had the whole day.

We were young, healthy.

We loved each other.

And that was worth a repeat.

We loved each other.

I loved Merry and Merry loved me.

Life was good.

For once.

With a hopeful forecast for the future.

Finally.

So it was time to fuck.

*

Saturday Night

“Babe?”

I was nearly asleep, fucked out and cuddled into my man.

“Mm?”

“Keep an eye, open communication, it happens again, you got shit messin’ with your head, we talk. You need it, we take you to Doc.”

I opened my eyes.

My man took care of me.

I closed them again.

“Whatever you want,” I whispered.

He pulled me closer.

“Love you, brown eyes,” he murmured.

Yeah.

Life was good.

“Love you too, Merry,” I replied.

Not long after, snuggled to Garrett Merrick, I fell asleep.

*

Garrett

Sunday Morning

Cher was in a certain mood.

That mood was moving her to taste him, slow and light, everywhere.

He liked it a fuckuva lot, but they’d been busy. He had news he hadn’t shared.

“Baby,” he called.

“Mm?” she murmured against his abs.

“Come up here,” he ordered.

She lifted her eyes to him. “Headed in a different direction, honey.”

He grinned. “Come here a sec.”

She studied him a beat before she slid up until they were face-to-face.

She rested her chest against his.

“What?” she asked quietly.

“There were a lot of variables, wanted to make sure it all went down—the inspection, what I asked to be fixed, what I was gonna suck up—so I didn’t tell you just in case it fell through. It all got worked out. Now I can tell you. Got an offer on the condo coupla weeks ago, took it. Sold the boat. I used that and savings as the down payment. Closing is set for Thursday on the house.”