Two Months Later…
“Poaching eggs is not as easy as you promised, Bobby!” I said to my laptop, gesturing with an egg yolk soaked spatula.
Spence’s small kitchen now resembled small bomb site. An egg carton filled with broken shells lay spilled open on the counter, roughly cut lemon wedges seemed to have grown legs and walked to the stove and floor, and bowls and pans littered the granite. To add a finishing touch, a coating of flour outlined my footprints and finger marks all over…everything.
Cooking wasn’t my strong suit.
Thankfully, no one was witness to my decision to whip together Eggs Benedict for the first time ever at four in the morning. Knox was none the wiser (hopefully), and Spence wasn’t supposed to be up until—
“Uh. You covering up a crime in here?”
I whirled. “Spence!”
Spence stood in the space between the main room and the kitchen, one hand rubbing his face. “Do I wanna know?”
I had the wherewithal to call upon my bartender clean-up skills, and had two hand towels tucked into the back of my pajama pants. I wiped my hands on them and approached, laying the kind of kiss on him that would make him forget that this would all have to be cleaned up at some point. “You weren’t supposed to be awake yet.”
“Except I had the craziest dream,” he said, and gave me a second peck on the nose. “Some dude who was not my roommate was lecturing my girlfriend while she threatened him with…what was it? Yeah, throwing hot vinegar at his eyes instead of in the pot.”
I crinkled my nose but smiled. “You said girlfriend.”
“Don’t distract.” Spence splayed a hand on my hip and spun me back to the disaster zone.
“I wanted to make you a wonderful breakfast,” I admitted. “Before you disappeared for six hours into the LSAT time warp.”
Spence kissed the back of my head. “You went to too much trouble.”
“Well. Clearly.” I went to the boiling pot and inspected one of the last remaining eggs. “Oh! I think I got it this time!”
Spence leaned in behind me, his warm breath on my cheek and making me all goose-pimply. He said, impressed, “That looks all right.”
I lifted my hands in victory. “Tenth time’s a charm!”
Spence caught me around the waist, making me laugh when he nuzzled my neck. “Emme, you really didn’t have to do this.”
“Eggs Bennie are your favorite. What girlfriend am I if I can’t make you your favorite breakfast before your big day?”
“Only if I could return the favor,” he said. “Except—I don’t even know. What’s your favorite breakfast?”
“Red velvet pancakes with cream cheese icing and maple syrup.”
“Jesus.”
“Kidding.” I smacked him with the spoon. “Eggs and bacon all the way.”
Spence inspected the kitchen. “I can’t leave you alone in this. Let me help.”
“No, really, I—”
“Darling, sweetness, I love you, but…” he clasped both hands in front of him. “I cannot afford to have the shits two hours into the exam.”
I mock gasped. “How little faith you have.”
Chuckling, he took the wooden spoon from my grasp. “Eggs Benedict happens to be not only my favorite but also my speciality. And I promise you,” he said as he looped an arm around me and squeezed my ass. “I’m a lot more helpful than that guy over there living in your laptop.”
“Oh, yeah?” I pressed my hip deeper, feeling the growing, hardening ridge beneath his boxers.
Spence took one look at my face and then got down to what was really important in the kitchen while making breakfast.
Him. Naked.
“What about Knox?” I whispered, but I was already scanning his body, my hands resting on his rippling shoulders as he pulled his boxers off.
Spence straightened, cupped my hips, my ass, and slid my pajama pants down. “Sirens don’t wake him. A SWAT team won’t wake him. But…” He nuzzled my neck and I groaned. “You may have to keep quiet just in case.”
My underwear was off and he lifted me to the counter, my legs dangling as he slid in between, saying, “Even though I want to make you scream.”
Spence lowered down and buried his face in my thighs. I arched in pleasure, pushing against his mouth. His lips, his tongue…Spence had me tangling my fingers in his hair and banging the back of my head against the cupboards, but in this state, there was no such thing as pain. I closed my eyes to the feeling of his hot breath, his mouth and tongue tantalizing, coaxing, demanding I join the ride.
My chin could’ve hit the ceiling when I opened my mouth and came, the noises unquenchable and could never be quieted even if we were somehow in public.
The orgasm faded and I coaxed my vision into half-lidded clarity. Spence rose, but only to lift me off the counter and bring me to the ground with him.
He was my man. I could play with him, experiment in any way I wanted. Spence’s body was covered in flour and I wanted to press my breasts into his chest, get some of that on me. Get dirty like him. I lifted my shirt off so we were both naked, then I put my palms to his pecs and slammed him to the ground.
“Is that how it’s gonna be?” he asked with his back on the floor, cocked smile in place.
“Oh yes,” I said and straddled him. Spence had the most beautiful dick, long and rigid, with soft as silk balls underneath. He enjoyed when I licked the velvet skin before taking him in my mouth, my tongue stroking and sucking and twirling. And when I cupped his balls and tugged, twisting gently as I sucked, his carnal moans matched mine.
I wanted to do just that to him, but deprive him of my mouth. That way I could clearly watch what I was doing to him, every grip and curl of my fingers, and every tug of pleasure hinging delicately on pain, would be written on his face, reeling behind his eyes.
Ideally, I wanted to do to him what he always managed to do to me.
With butter.
“That devilish grin better mean good tidings,” he said, but his voice was low in his chest.
I said nothing, instead locating the softened butter on the counter and warming it further between my palms.
“…Oh,” he said.
I bent down, and went about making a breakfast I knew I was good at.
#
Eventually, after slipping and sliding all over the floor, collecting butter and flour as we went, Spence made an actual food-based breakfast. My hair was so tangled with ingredients that I gave up on finger-combing it and just raked it to the side. My face likely wasn’t any better, considering Spence’s forehead and ridge of his nose were streaked with white. The kitchen fared the worst, and would probably take at least an hour to clean.
But ah, so worth it.
We sat at the hightop table near the balcony, the sunrise creeping over the city and our skin as we dived into Spence’s delicious breakfast that my overcooked eggs and watery hollandaise couldn’t hold a candle to. He was quiet, and any attempts I made at conversation dwindled the closer to the deadline of his leaving that we got. Spence’s eyes would dart to the view outside, then back to his plate, and he nursed his coffee like a man who was given his last cup before the Green Mile.
“Hey,” I said, and gently pried his hand away from his mouth. I’d learned that when he was nervous, he liked to rub his lips—his only tell in a body conditioned to be stone. I made sure he was looking at me when I said, “I love you.”
He squeezed, but it was automatic, distracted. “I love you, too.”
I leaned in. “And I want to thank you. For being mine.”
Spence smiled, but wasn’t his usual lopsided grin.
I continued, “But now it’s my turn to be yours. You’ve supported me through this year with the fortitude of a Greek god.”
He lifted my hand to his mouth and kissed the palm, his warm lips a reassurance I’d started to crave when I was without him.
“You can do this,” I said. “You’ve worked too hard, and I’m not talking about these months of prep, I’m talking about your entire life. You will never be a failure, Spence. Not in my eyes.”
“Honey,” he said.
“I’m here for you. When you get home, at the end of all bad days, at the beginning of the good. So you go ahead and take on this morning with the knowledge that you are going to kick ass. And I’ll be on that couch, right there, waiting for you.”
Spence pulled me from my seat until I was on his lap. His arms came around and I melted in, finding my favorite nook.
“Thank you,” he said into my skin, before searing those words in with a kiss.
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” I said.
We stayed that way for a while longer, when the scarlet of the sun turned to gold, and until the summer blue skies awaited him.During the six-plus hours Spence was deeply ensconced in logic games, reading comprehension and essay writing, I summoned the nerve to check my grades online. If Spence could undergo and survive an all-day exam (and, if he was going to law school and ultimately taking the bar, it would be the first of many), I could sit my ass down in front of my computer and do the thing I’d been dreading since the semester ended four weeks ago. Especially with a trusty bottle of wine at my side.
Spring had broken through the winter city smog before summer had spread her humid feathers across the July sky. Through the cracks and crevices of concrete and skyscrapers, the sun beamed down on the top of New Yorker’s heads with the heat only the closest blazing star could bring. It was cooler in the shade—by maybe a degree or two—but the city had plenty of it with all its manmade structures looming over sidewalls. In the brief time I spent at intersections, waiting for the lights to change and being forced to stand beside the stench of cooked, juicy city garbage housed in overfilled cans, sticky fingers of light managed to peek through and caress my neck and matte my hair.
During the May mayhem of exams, I spent breaks between classes at the coffee shop with my laptop open and espresso in hand, creating detailed outlines because Harper and company were not going to get me this year. When I came to my notes for Harper, a smile pulled at me. Spence’s track changes were throughout, with helpful suggestions and dirty talk bolded in red. I heard his voice in his words and with it came delicious memories, but no. Back to it, damn it.
Once the light crept behind the buildings, greying the minuscule piece of the city framed by my bedroom window, it was time to bite down and freaking click already. I gulped some wine, satisfied with enough liquid courage, and proud I hadn’t been totally distracted by my nerves for Spence to “forget” to check my results.
When I entered in my student number, my phone beeped
Spence: still going, somehow surviving. 5 min break right now. See you soon.
I replied, strong like bull. Keep at it, and I’ll gift you with steak and lingerie for dinner.
Right. Enough sexy dilly-dally. I put my phone away.
Spence helped me thrive on my greatest trait: confidence. I didn’t worry about sounding like an idiot or being too obsessed or clingy. I didn’t overanalyze before saying something or considered hindsight on what I could’ve said to sound better, smarter. It was a new approach, one I didn’t mind trying out. It felt good to say what I wanted and be cared for either way. To not worry that if I mentioned the wrong thing, Spence would no longer be interested.
He was solid. Rock steady. And when I looked to my future I sensed his presence every step of the way.
All this meant I could totally read some letters on a digital screen and keep my heartbeat.
Except my eyes were closed. I had to open them in order to see. I had to…I squinted one eye open, but the screen was too blurry, so I creaked it wider. Then my other eye. My grip on the wine stem glass was near to shattering.
Introduction to Marketing A
Foundations of Finance B+
Operations Management A
Business & Society A
Financial Accounting Principles A-
Dante in Modern Times B
“YEEEAAAAAAAH!!!!!”
I fist-pumped with my wine, red sloshing down the glass and onto my fingers, but I jumped up anyway, did a butt-jig, and took a celebratory gulp as I gyrated around my bed.
Dante did not take away my scholarship. Harper did not send me into Hell. I did it!
“I did it!” I said to the air. I even pulled out my phone and said to the black screen, “I did it, Spence! I freaking, fucking did it!
Guys!” I said. I opened the door and Becca and Jade were standing in the middle of the den, arguing.
“We had veggie-palooza last time!” Becca said to Jade, for some reason brandishing a fork in the middle of our living room. They were also facing off on either side of the coffee table. “I demand pepperoni!”
“Do you know what kind of shit is in that pretend meat?” Jade countered.
“Yes, salt, deliciousness, and spicy peppers—Emme! Perfect timing.” Becca turned to me, fork still in the air.
“I’m having steak,” I said as I entered the room with my hands up.
“But not until later, right? You can hang with us for a bit?” Jade asked.
These past weeks, I’d been able to spend time with my two best friends, but not as much as I used to. With all our exams and end of semester papers, not to mention my recent addiction to Spencer Rolfe, we hadn’t had any of our usual girls’ nights in.
At the sound of Jade’s voice, the tentative excitement, I caved. “Of course I can. I didn’t make reservations until nine.”
Becca clapped her hands. “Excellent! Pizza and martinis as an appetizer. I’ll get started.”
“If there are olives in the martinis, then no olives on the pizza!” Jade called after her.
“I repeat, salty goodness!”
I laughed. “I’ll join you on the couch in a sec,” I told Jade. “Just need to change into some comfy clothes.”
In truth, I wanted to pack a few naughty things in my purse before I became too sauced with my friends and forgot to greet Spence in the planned fashion. I shut the door to my room and threw my tote and purse on the bed before heading to my dresser to search for the perfect pair of red lace lingerie I’d found while shopping with Jade last weekend.
After a few seconds of riffling through and not finding it, I frowned. My underwear drawer wasn’t exactly organized, but with all the black, white and grey, pieces of red should pop. I hadn’t worn it at all, only hand-washed it once getting home, knowing I was going to save it for Spence’s celebratory dinner.
“Ha!” I said once I spotted a slip of red silk. “Gotcha.”
But…
My drawer seemed emptier than usual. While I was pretty monochromatic, I did have a few cute pieces that I’d started to buy and wear once my sex life shot straight into space. No point in having Spence ravish me in full-coverage, white cotton undies every time. I swore I’d just washed the baby pink lace I had. Did I leave it at Spence’s? More and more of my clothing, usually undergarments, were getting lost over there. It wasn’t a long shot to think my clothes—even my favorites—were being strewn around two apartments.
I turned back to my bed and stuffed the ruby thong and bra in my purse. I was going to change at Spence’s, since I’d left the black dress I’d planned to wear there, too. That was it. I’d probably packed my pink number along with the dress before buying the sexier red.
I slipped out of my jeans and into yoga pants, as well as threw on Spence’s old high school sweater which was softer than kitten fur, and bonus, smelled like him. A torn piece of paper by my bedside caught my eye.
What was this? I rounded the mattress and picked it up.
I can’t stop thinking about you.
The scrawl was done in a rush. It was on pink lined paper, torn from one of my notebooks I left on my desk to write down random reminders or memory triggers as I studied. Spence’s handwriting was pretty neat, but when he was in a time crunch or had been writing so long he got hand cramps, his letters would angle like this, above the lines.
Although we usually chose text messages over notes, Spence was the type to write in the margins of my pages sometimes, things like, come over, and are you thinking of me naked right now? I wouldn’t put this scribble past him, especially since the last time he was here we were so absorbed in each other we nearly missed our exam and were sprinting around the room trying to locate each other’s clothing.
The note creased in my grip. I realized I was participating in a logic game of my own. It was easier, more reassuring, to think Spence would write something like this and not Trev. Or Ed. Or any other man who had no place in my bedroom, around my things, breathing my scent.
I fished out my phone. I’d text Spence, see if he decided to be cute and left the note—
“Emme!”
Becca burst into my room. I dropped the phone and nearly pinged my ass on the corner of the nightstand. I held my hands up, staring at the ceiling and restarting my heart.
“It occurs to me you were screaming and stomping around excitedly a few seconds ago while behind your closed door,” she said. “Why is that?”
“I got my grades back,” I said, my lips pulling wide. I dropped the note on the bed.
“Omigod, and here I thought you were having a particularly epic masturbathon.” She strode forward and clutched my hands. “And?”
“I’m still in!” I said, and soon we were both jumping up and down, our hands intertwined. “I can keep my scholarship!”
“Girl!” Becca screeched, then enveloped me in her arms. “I knew it! Of course you could slay demons. You’re freaking Queen of the Undead!”
“Jade!” I called as we continued to bounce. “Get in here!”
Becca halted our leaps and released me. “Jade is currently in the midst of putting gin in our martinis instead of vodka. Stop her.”
I finished stuffing my belongings in my purse, then zipped it up. “Yeah, yeah, Referee Beauregard to the rescue.”
“Good,” Becca said as she spun around. “I think she’s trying to poison me.”
I followed her to the door. “With vegetables and alcohol?”
“Only one of those things is worth dying for, but I draw the line at gin.”
I hooked an arm through hers. “Which is why you have me. To prevent any sudden roommate deaths. What movie are we watching again?”
“It’s got Brad Pitt,” Becca said instead of answering.
“Ah. World War Z.”
“It’s good! You know it!’
“And you wonder why Jade is trying to commandeer the bar.”
“Spence is coming over later, right? He’ll side with me…”
“Have I not told you? Gin and tonic is his favorite drink…”
“Don’t be an asshole.”
Becca’s voice faded out of my bedroom as we laughed and argued, elbowing each other after every point. I separated myself from the image, panning out behind us like a camera would. First the doorway, then the white walls of my room with my comforter of clouds swallowed by the multi colors of throw pillows. My desk sat silent, laptop still open and chair angled to the side from when I’d leapt out of it. Droplets of spilled red wine splattered the cheap laminate, the bottle a third of the way finished and forgotten. The handwritten note, no longer on my comforter, was lost as I’d gathered up my things. Maybe it had fallen to the hardwood, to be swept under my bed or sucked up from a vacuum, I would never know. I never saw it again.
A bird’s eye view of my bedroom now, the place of sweet solace, and the memories…Spence and I sleeping softly, Becca, Jade and I tossing pillows at each other and getting ready for the night, the hours I’d spent hunched over my desk, pillow clutched to my chest as I seared numbers, words, theories into the back of my brain.
Don’t remember.
Spence always said there were dangers to bringing your previous self back to life. In this case, risks to my heart. A knife through my sanity.
The edges of my past room went black, rainbow colors bleeding until they bleached to grey, then burned to nothing. My ears rang with the pressure of silence.
Four years worth of yesterdays lifted from my mind, and I found myself in the dark, unsafe, scared, and alone. But I would remember him.
I remembered us.