As I listen to him and lose my mind, I know I don’t care about any other men. I only care about him.
Our flesh is sliding together, oiled with sweat and my own juices. Then Thomas shifts onto his knees to bring his leg out and around my hips, changing his angle. Weirdly, I feel his cock in my spine. I feel it bumping against the ridges of my bones, and I explode.
Spurts of cum burst out of me, drenching my thighs and his, too, I’m sure. My body is tight and loose at the same time, bucking and shivering, a beast I can’t control. For a second, I’m scared it won’t ever be over, that I’ll never regain control of my own body. A shriek echoes in my throat but his hand over my mouth tamps it down. I put my own hand over his and grab on to it.
Behind me, Thomas jerks. He rotates his hips in a telltale sign of his climax, and I squeeze his palm over my mouth to tell him I’m here, that it’s okay to let go.
He falls over me as his cock pushes out hot cum. I sigh under his delicious weight and we lie in the puddle of our orgasms. His shuddering chest bumps with my back, his arm thrown over my shoulder. I smell his skin, nuzzle my face in the coarse hair of his forearm. His sighs scatter the hair on my neck.
For the first time in a long time, I feel sleepy on my bed. I don’t need the hard surface of the bathtub. My eyes are on the verge of falling shut when I hear him whisper, almost distractedly, “You bring them back…my words.”
It’s so soft and thin that it could almost be a dream. In that dream, I could almost imagine that he came here not to say goodbye, but to tell me he loves me.
I fall asleep in the wake of those three imagined words.
When I woke up this morning, Thomas had left. I’d expected him to, but I wasn’t expecting to find myself tucked under my purple blanket, sleeping soundly on the bed. At some point during the night he moved me, put me under the covers, and crept out silently. For some reason, that hurts me more than anything we’ve ever done.
My coffee sits on the kitchen counter, untouched and cold. I had all the plans of holding my head up and moving on, but everything hurts.
Hurts. Like I’ve been run over by a car.
Emma’s door opens and I quickly wipe away all the tears. Turning, I greet her with a fake smile. “Ready to go?”
“No, class is canceled. I just got an email.”
Relief is my body’s first reaction. I don’t want to go. I don’t even have a plan in place as to how to face Thomas, how to be normal around him after everything. Then my brain catches on. “What? Why?”
Her expression is both horrified and confused. “I…got a text from Samantha, who got a text from Brian. He says he actually saw it or maybe heard it from somewhere. It-It doesn’t matter. But Professor Abrams… His wife’s in the hospital. She-She tried to kill herself.”
A buzz enters my mind.
A constant sound of static that invades my ears, and it doesn’t stop there. It floods over my body. I see Emma. I see her lips moving. I see the frown on her face, the agitated lines around her mouth. But it doesn’t register.
Nothing does.
Thomas.
He needs me. I know he does. I need to go to him. I need to find Thomas. This…This can’t be happening. I saw her yesterday and she was fine. I saw her with my own eyes and oh my God, he loves her. He loves her so much and… Did I do this? Was it me? Did-Did my going there bring this on? Maybe she realized how much I love him too. Maybe she found out about us. It’s my fault, isn’t it?
My world screeches to a halt and then shakes, shakes violently.
“Layla? What the hell are you talking about?” Emma is closer to me than before. How did she get here? I look down and see coffee spilled all over the floor, some of it splashed over my bare feet with shards of my broken mug scattered around.
“I need to go see him,” I tell Emma.
“I don’t understand. When did you see his wife? Why is it your fault?”
I realize I was saying it all out loud. I don’t have time to explain things right now. I need to go find Thomas.
“Do you know where…” I take a puff of breath, trying to make sense of words, which are failing me right now.
“She’s at the hospital. She’s fine. At least, that’s what I heard. It’s all over campus.”
“Okay. Okay.” I walk around her. “I need to go to the hospital. Right now.”
Emma stops me then. “Layla, there’s more.”
Her tone sends a chill down my spine. Cold curls around my bones and hunkers down. “What? What is it?”
She is wringing her hands, agitated. “I-I heard that their baby, the one we met at Crème and Beans all those weeks ago?” She is shaking her head.
Why is she shaking her head?
“Layla, he’s in the hospital too.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know… I heard he’s in the ICU or something.”
“Nicky?” I shake my head at Emma’s sympathetic, pitying face. “Why? I mean, what happened. How can he be in the ICU? Isn’t that...Isn’t that serious?”
She puts her hand on my shoulders and rubs my skin in circles. “Shit, Layla, you’re shivering. You need to sit down for a sec, okay?”
“No.” I stop her from pushing me down on the barstool. “No. Tell me where Nicky is.”
“Layla, I really don’t know, honey. I told you what I heard. I’ve got no idea how any of this happened.”
I break out of her hold, numb and charged at the same time, ready to stride over to the front door. “I need to go. I need to find Thomas, okay? I n-need to tell him Nicky is fine. He must be freaking out right now.”
“Layla, you need to listen to me. Just please, listen to me.” She goes to grab my arm and I spin around.
“No,” I shout. “No. I don’t need to do anything but find Thomas, okay? He needs...” My voice breaks and I take in another breath. “I just need to get to the hospital. Right now.”
Emma nods. “Okay. I’ll take you. I’ll find out what hospital they were taken to and then we’ll go.”
I nod, and then my legs give out and I crumple to the ground.
________________
Lay-la. La-laaa.
Yes. I’m Layla…or Lala. Whatever. I sip my coffee and he chews on his tiny fists, staring at me in fascination. His eyes are big, wide pools of blue water. He’s adorable.
You wanna drink my coffee, little guy? He gurgles. Okay, tell you what, I’ll give this to you if you say coffee. Say, co-ffee.
Thomas sends me an exasperated look. What? I’m teaching him a new word. I look at Nicky. Come on, Nicky, don’t let me down. Say, coffee. Co-ffee.
He chortles. Thomas is pursing his lips, holding back a laugh. Oh, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you? You wait and see, the day will come when Nicky’s going to say coffee and love me more than he loves you.