(Present)

Last night, despite the cramps and the backache, I slept better than I had in two years. I dreamt of being in his arms a million times over the past few years and it was even better than I thought. The heat from his body soothed me and the firmness of his embrace made me feel safe. I felt his hardness behind me; it made me dizzy with pleasure and brought back a flood of memories.

It was always hard to spoon each other and not make love. It was a challenge we always gave ourselves. I bet him that he would be the first to break and turn the simple act of spooning into all-night sex-a-thon. He’d vow that he’d never break, no matter what. We’d wager on it.

I’d feel his hardness against my ass and purposely push out my butt so that I could feel more of him. He’d groan and slide his hand up my thigh and say that I wasn’t playing fair. I’d laugh and say that I had no idea what he was talking about. He’d chuckle and say, “Yeah, I’m sure you don’t.”

He’d then reach over and slide his hand between my legs. He’d find my pussy already soaking wet in anticipation. That would send him into overdrive, and he’d swear under his breath and take me right there. We’d end up making love all night. In the morning we’d be exhausted but happy; so damn happy…

When I wake up it’s 7 AM and he’s no longer beside me. I find that disappointing but given how nice last night was, I won’t complain. I get into the shower and thank God that my cramps are gone and I can be normal again. I quickly get dressed and we head to the café near the hotel for breakfast.

We order pancakes, eggs, bacon, orange juice, and coffee. It feels like old times sitting across from him. Something else that makes this feel like old times is the fact that the waitress can’t stop staring at him. I’m not kidding, at one point she actually licked her lips.

That happened a lot when we were dating. I used to get upset about it, but then I noticed that no matter what woman was throwing herself at him, he barely noticed because he was so focused on me.

Once, I had dragged him to see a play and during intermission, some hot chick with super big boobs kept brushing up against him in the lobby. She pretended to drop something just so she could bend down and pick it up, giving Logan a view of her cleavage. And as if that wasn’t enough, she introduced herself while shamelessly eye fucking him, right there in front of me. She laughed—way too hard—at anything he said and touched his bicep. I was tempted to slap her so hard her plastic surgeon would feel it.

I was worried the whole night that he was turned on by her and that it was only a matter of time before some sexy, impossibly beautiful woman took him away. I hated being that insecure, and normally I wasn’t. But there I was, feeling as attractive as a paper bag. When the play was over, he turned to me and said, “Let’s go out the back way. I don’t want to run into that clumsy woman again.” That night, we didn’t even make it home—we had sex in the parking lot.

The same thing is happening now in the café we’re in. The waitress isn’t brushing up against him but she’s giving him far more attention than she’s giving anyone else in the café.

“Is there anything else you need? Anything at all?” she says in a tone dripping with sex and honey.

“Ah, no. I think that should be all,” he says.

“Oh, okay. Well, if you need anything, anything at all…I’m here,” she says.

“Actually, can I get some extra napkins?” I ask.

She looks over at me with hate in her eyes. She gives me a plastic smile and says, “Yeah, okay,” as she disappears into the back.

“I bet you ten bucks she gets my order wrong,” I reply.

“Why would you say that?”

“Because she’s into you and didn’t hear a word I said when I placed my order,” I reply. He looks back at me with doubt. He’s forever underestimating how fucking hot he is and that makes him even hotter. Damn him.

“Are you feeling better? Are your cramps gone?” he asks.

“Yeah, for the most part. By the end of today, it should be completely gone. Thank you for last night.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” he says as he brings the glass of water to his lips.

“I do, it was nice to have you so close to me.”

Shit. Why did I say that out loud? What if he’s not ready to hear that? Fuck.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

He stops me and says, “It was nice for me too.”

Okay, Shay, be cool. Just act like your world didn’t just get a billion times brighter. Be cool…

Shit, I can’t look him in the eye now. Fuck! I’m blushing. Crap. I can feel the color rushing into my cheeks. What am I, a teenager? What the hell?

“Are you okay? You look a little flustered,” he says.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I lie, then swallow hard and pretend to be a grown-up.

“Tell me about your dog,” he asks.

“He was a Great Dane.”

“Nice, what was his name?”

“Rabbit.”

He laughs. “You named your dog ‘Rabbit’?”

“Yeah, it suited him. Whenever he’d hear a noise he’d run and hide under the bed like a scared rabbit. He had these pretty big eyes, and he loved watching documentaries about space. He also loved the flowers on the east side of the block but hated the west side. No idea why. Oh, and he had a crush on Anderson Cooper. Anytime CNN came on, he’d wag his tail and get all excited.” I laugh.

“He sounds fun. I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet him.”

“Me too,” I reply, trying to keep my sadness at bay. He senses my mood shift and changes the subject.

“If you weren’t in the middle of this whole mess, what would you be doing today?” he asks.

“I’d be at the center but for lunch, I’d be with my mom. We get together every two weeks and hang out.”

He looks over at me, shocked. “You and your mom are talking?” he asks.

“Yeah, we have been for some time now.”

“Shay, that’s amazing. What changed?”

“When I got sick, it really affected her. She started to get her life on track so she could be there for me. It took some time but eventually she went to rehab and got a job. She’s been sober for over a year now.”

“That’s fucking awesome. I can’t imagine how happy you must be to know that she’s okay.”

“I am. I kept her in the dark about most of what’s going on—I told her a few details but I didn’t want her to worry, so I held some of it back.”

He’s about to say something but then the waitress comes over with our food. And guess whose order she messed up?

“I didn’t order this,” I say as nicely as I can. She’s too busy looking at Logan to hear me.

“I’m sorry but I didn’t order this,” I call out.

She looks over at me as if it’s the first time she’s actually aware of my existence. “Oh, sorry. I’ll go fix it,” she says. When she’s gone, I stick my hand out.

“Maybe she’s just bad at her job,” he suggests.

“She got your order right,” I point out as I laugh at him. He hands me the ten bucks. His cell phone rings, and he looks at the screen and ignores the call.

“Who was that?” I ask.

“My mom.”

“You don’t want to take it?” I ask.

“Nope.”

The phone rings again and he sends it to voicemail.

“It could be about Cash,” I remind him.

“Cash info will come from Wyatt. He’s the one with the contacts on this one,” he replies. The waitress comes back and has the right order this time. The service may have been iffy but the food is great. We eat and do some much needed catching up. As we near the end of the meal, I excuse myself and head to the ladies’ room.

***

Logan (Moments later)

“Why are you ignoring your mother’s calls?” she asks as she returns from the ladies’ room and sits down.

“She’s calling to ask a favor that no one in their right mind would grant,” I reply.

“She’s your mom. What could she ask that you would say no to?”

“A few years back she started this annual charity auction. It benefits the Juvenile Diabetes Foundation.”

“I know the woman that runs that program; it’s a really good cause. What’s your issue with them?”

“I don’t have an issue with the charity; I have an issue with my mom and her ruthless desire to top herself. A few years back, she decided that it wasn’t enough to have a fancy charity dinner; she upped the ante by having a bachelor auction. It was a huge success. Now every year, around this time, she tries to get at least one of her sons to be a part of it. I happen to be in town and now she’s calling me to try and get me to agree to go but that’s not gonna happen.”

“Oh, c’mon, that’s sounds like so much fun,” she pushes with a spark of mischief in her eyes.

“No, Shay, it’s not fun. My mom and Shelby get together and they wrangle a dozen cops, firefighters, and EMTs. They make them stand there and get bid on like livestock.”

“It’s for a good cause and I’m sure it’s tasteful.”

“The auction itself is really classy, but the women…they are animals!”

“It can’t be that bad.”

“I have faced vicious guys with real cruel streaks, I’ve had guns, knives, and on one occasion, a chainsaw pointed at my throat. And yet the only thing that truly scares me are the women at the auction,” I reply as she laughs.

“Okay, now I have to get you to take part in this,” she says, laughing so hard her whole body moves with her.

“It’s not funny, Shay. Last year, a firefighter had to go take some mental health days because he was so traumatized from that night.”

“Yup, I’m definitely going to this thing,” she replies.

“Do you understand what I just said? A NYC firefighter, a guy who gets paid to walk into fire, was traumatized from just an hour in the room with those women. There’s one old bat in particular—Mrs. Brubaker. Her husband died and left her a ton of money. She lives for this event. She gets her hands on the itinerary before anyone else and she circles the guy she wants to take home with her. In fact, her list has become so popular; it’s now a blog. She calls it Y&T with Doris.”

“What does that mean?”

“Young and Tinder.”

“Please tell me you made the list,” she says as tears start to fill her eyes. She can barely contain her laughter now.

“Are you kidding, all my brothers and I are there. I went over to her place once after she called my mom, frantic that someone was in her house. I went to make sure everything was okay.”

“Was there an intruder?”

“I saw nothing! What I did note, however, was that horny old bag ‘accidentally’ dropping shit so I could pick it up while she looked at my ass.”

“Please stop, I can’t breathe,” she says as she howls with laughter.

“Hey, that’s not funny. On my way out, she grabbed my ass and growled in my ear. I swear if she wasn’t a woman…”

Shay is now covering her face as the laughter rolls though her body. I scold her, “You’re so fucked up for laughing, it’s not funny. I was manhandled,” I say, trying to sound serious but laughing halfway through. It takes a while for the laughter to die down, but when it does, we’re left looking into each other’s eyes as the world around us disappears. Her eyes are glistening from the happy tears she just shed. Her face is flushed and her pupils are dilated.

How is she this beautiful? How does that even happen? I ask myself in awe as the laughter dies down. I want her like I’ve never wanted another human being in my life. My need to have her is growing with every passing moment. She’s lied to me and she’s fucked us over. Yet, I need her in ways I have never needed anyone before and it’s scaring the shit out of me.

“We should get going,” I say as I try to rein in my thoughts.

“Yup, I’m ready. So, you’re not gonna call your mom?” she asks as I place a few bills on the table.

“Only after I make sure she has filled in all the slots she needs for the auction.”

“Okay, but you are breaking an old lady’s heart by not participating,” she warns.

“No, my mom will be fine.”

“Not her, Mrs. Brubaker. You are denying her a chance to take ‘a little piece of Logan’ home with her. Now, that’s just cruel,” she teases as we make our way out the door.

I laugh and joke, “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure it’s hard to get over me.”

“It is, Logan, it really is…”