“Tate, my shirt,” I protested.
“Takin’ cakes outta the oven doesn’t require you bein’ fully-clothed,” he replied and I didn’t exactly agree but we were out the door, he was moving me down the hall and I was wearing nothing but a pair of khaki shorts and my bra.
I decided not to fight it. I was into being friendly and as soon as the cakes were out of the oven, I could go back to that.
We went to the kitchen and I opened the oven. The cakes smelled amazing, the house reeked of it and I forgot how much I loved that smell. I stuck my hand in, did the press test, the cake bounced back so I grabbed a kitchen towel and took them out, putting them on the burners of the stove.
I turned the oven off and looked up at Tate to see he was staring down at the cakes.
His eyes came to me. “Looks good, babe.”
I grinned. “Yeah.”
Then he moved and I was over his shoulder. I let out a little, surprised scream and grabbed onto his waist.
“Tate!” I shouted when we were going through the dining room.
“Friendly,” he returned.
He wanted to carry me to his bed? All right, well, whatever.
He threw me on the bed, came down on top of me and we started getting friendly again.
We were redefining friendly in a very good way when something strange happened. Something mammothly strange. Something so strange it tilted the foundations of all that I’d come to be.
Tate’s fingers were curled around my breast, my hand cupping his behind, his lips were trailing down my throat and I was out of mind and in my body when I came back to my mind with a vicious snap.
“So you forgive him for bein’ a cheatin’ asshole and a liar and a dickhead who’s so fuckin’ dumb he throws away a good thing but you can’t forgive me for sayin’ somethin’ stupid?”
My eyes opened and my body stilled. Tate’s mouth moved down my chest.
“You want sweet dreams, lose the attitude and you might find I’ll give you reason to have them.”
I closed my eyes and my arms around Tate flexed.
“Laurie, baby, wake up. You’re gonna fry out here.”
Tate’s lips moved along the lacy edge of my bra.
“You were sleepin’ in the sun, babe, not goin’ to the mall to get a phone. So I got you a phone.”
I turned my head to the side and closed my eyes tighter trying to focus on what his mouth was doing and block out his voice in my head.
“Yeah, Ace, fucked you so hard you couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but sleep. Exhausted you. You were in my bed, couldn’t sleep, that’s what I’d do.”
I bit my lip and felt the tears sting my nose.
“I get back, Lauren, you’re on the back of my bike.”
My hands lifted and slid into his hair.
“Sucks, but fuck Laurie, it’s good to be home.”
My fingers curled into his hair.
“Then you shouldn’t have thrown her away when she was your wife. Now she ain’t. Now she’s somethin’ to me and I don’t let men I don’t like get close to her and I gotta tell you, man, I do not like you.”
Tate’s head came up.
“No way you can look like all the rest.”
“Laurie,” Tate called.
“Pure class.”
“Lauren,” he called again, his body moving up, his hand coming to my jaw.
“Two kinds of women get under your skin. The ones who do damage, they don’t feel good there but once you’re fuckin’ stupid enough to let them in you got no choice but to take the time it takes to work them out. Then there are the ones who don’t do damage, who feel good there, feed the muscle, the bone, the soul, not rip it or break it or burn it. The ones you don’t wanna work out.”
I righted my head, opened my eyes and looked in his handsome face.
It was then my mind filled with him, with Tate, all things Tate. It filled so full, it felt like my head would explode.
“Never had better.”
“That’s how I know you didn’t give it to that asshole the way you give it me. You did, no way in hell he’d ever…”
“Three weeks, after fuckin’ you, knowin’ what you taste like, what you feel like, the sounds you make when you come, three weeks I’m on the road and all I got is a couple minutes of your voice on the phone every night. Fuckin’ you, that’s all I can think about, like a teenager, at night in the dark, it’s the only thing in my goddamned head. So I jack off, hopin’ to cut through it, but nothin’ compares to you. Then I know you can’t sleep so I can’t fuckin’ sleep wonderin’ if you’re sleepin’. That shit’s whacked and I come home, fuckin’ beside myself it’s over.
“But Neeta, she’s not like you. She isn’t smart. She doesn’t work hard.”