Harlow

 

 

I don’t feel right. I feel light and heavy at the same time. Dizzy and elated. Scared.

I’m ashamed of the fact that I’m afraid. A normal person would tell Josh about it. She’d let him push those fears away, but I’m not sure if he can. It’s too fucked up. I’m too fucked up. Too insane. What kind of person is afraid of being happy? Who wants to cut and run because things are too good? To hide behind nothing because nothing is so much easier than all this something. You can lose something. You can miss it and regret it and be hurt by it. But nothing will never leave you because it was never there. Nothing is simple. Nothing is safe.

What I feel for Josh is everything. It’s all consuming and suffocating, like a dam broke last night and the whole of my being is flooding my body, drowning me. Killing me slowly. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. The only solution, the only thing that makes any sense to me, is to run. It’s wrong and it’s not a solution, but it’s all I know. It’s all I can do to save myself. To keep my head above water.

I feel the way I did three years ago when Josh was lying on top of me, fitted so perfectly inside of me that I felt all of him. Every breath. Every heartbeat. Every sigh in his soul as it spilled into mine. It was too much then and it’s too much now. I’m not built for this. I’m too broken to hold myself afloat. Cracks are spreading, leaks are springing, and there’s only one place for me to go. Only one person who can pull me back together.

“Pops, I hope you’re ready to get your butt kicked,” I call out to him as I step into his room, “because I Googled the rules to playing Gin and I’m ready for you this time, you crafty old—”

My words and my heart stop simultaneously, put on pause by big brown eyes, broad shoulders, and a sexy smile.

“—son of a bitch,” I finish weakly. “Josh, what are you doing here?”

“It’s Thursday,” he reminds me calmly. “I always visit Pops on Thursday.”

Pops grins broadly. “Harlow, come on in. We were just about to play a hand.”

I hesitate, not sure if I’m staying or going.

Story of my life.

Josh sees it. He watches me closely, waiting for me to figure myself out. I expect him to be gentle with me. To look at me with support and compassion the way he usually does, but that’s not what he’s giving me at all. He’s challenging me with his eyes, burning me with a gaze that I’m grateful Pops doesn’t see. It’s too real. Almost physical in the way it caresses me. The way it touches me inside and out, setting me on fire with a carnal hunger I can feel through every nerve in my body.

If Pops wasn’t in the room, I’d mount Josh right here, right now. All because of a look.

Josh shuffles the cards expertly, his eyes hard on mine. “What’s it going to be, ‘Low? Are you in or out?”

“In,” I answer defiantly. I drag an extra chair up to Pops’ bed, sitting down solidly across from Josh. “I’m all in.”

He smiles crookedly. “You sure?”

“You wanna test me?”

“Every second of every day.”

I feel myself flush, my body going hot and sinuous. It’s the wrong time, wrong place, wrong company, but it is what it is. This is how I love Josh – always. Completely.

Josh hands out cards with the blinding efficiency of a Vegas dealer. Every time he looks at me, his smile widens.

So does my heart.

Pops bows out, letting us play against each other the first round. He seems perfectly content to sit between us, glancing back and forth at our faces with a satisfied grin.

“About goddamn time,” he mutters.

I pick up my cards. “What is, Pops?”

“You two.”

“Learning to play Gin,” Josh fills in immediately. I catch him cast Pops a meaningful look. “It’s about goddamn time we actually figured out how to play.”

“It’s so good to look at,” Pops agrees emphatically.

Josh’s shoulders sag.

I frown, confused. “You mean, it’s good to see?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” I mumble, looking to Josh for some clarity. He’s engrossed in his cards, pretending like this conversation isn’t happening, never mind the fact that it’s really weird.

Josh wins the hand. It’s no surprise. He’s smarter than I am at pretty much everything. Everyone is. But then Josh plays Pops and I get to sit back sipping my beer, watching the tide as it turns.

“You stacked the cards,” Josh accuses Pops, glaring at his hand.

Pops laughs. “You dealt.”

“And shuffled the deck,” I remind him. “Stop being a bad loser, Josh.”

“I’m not losing.”

“It doesn’t look like winning.”

“I’m in the middle of my comeback.”

I look sideways at Pops who glances down at the scorecard in front of him. He checks the numbers before subtly shaking his head at me.

I grin into my beer.

Suddenly, Pops grimaces, his breath tightening.

I sit up straight, reaching for his arm. “Are you okay?”

“What happened?” Josh asks urgently.

Pops waves us away, his face still contorted with pain. “Nothing. It’s nothing. It’ll pass.”

“It’s not nothing,” I insist.

“It’s a muscle spasm. I’ve had them in my back lately.” He tosses his cards on the rolling table in frustration. “It’s from being cooped up in this damn bed.”

I rub his arm slowly. “I’m sorry, Pops.”

“I’ll be alright in a minute.”

Josh rolls the table away. He’s quick, but I notice him hit the call button for the nurse as he does it. He also clears the two beers Pops and I have been drinking. “You need to take your muscle relaxer.”

“Ah, I hate those things. All they do is make me sleep. I’d rather talk to you kids.”

“We’ll come back tomorrow,” Josh promises. He reaches down to take his grandpa’s hand. “Don’t hurt yourself for us.”

“We’ll be back first thing in the morning,” I agree, squeezing his arm. “I’ll bring my big purse. Everyone gets a beer tomorrow.”

“Yeah, where was mine, by the way?” Josh teases.

“I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“You sure about that?”

I glare at him and his intelligence. His extra perception of me that borders on supernatural.

A nurse I’ve never seen before appears in the doorway. “Is everything okay in here?”

Josh nods to Pops. “His back is hurting him. He needs his cyclobenzaprine.”

The nurse checks the chart on the wall. “It looks like he refused it an hour ago, just before you got here. I’ll bring it in with his dinner in a couple minutes?”

“Thanks, Janice.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart.”

With Nurse Janice gone, I take the beer cans from Josh. Mine is empty and, just like last time, Pops’ is nearly full. I empty it in the bathroom sink, shaking out the excess before stowing it away in my purse.

When I come out of the bathroom, Josh is leaned over Pops, the older man muttering in his ear. I hold back, watching as Josh nods his head now and then, listening intently. He laughs at one point, his head falling forward against Pops’ narrow shoulder. I quickly pull my cell out of my pocket to take a picture of them; Pops with a grin on his face, his eyes half-closed with laughter, his hand held in Josh’s. His other hand on Josh’s shoulder.

I’ll never ask what they’re talking about. I don’t need to know. All I want from this moment is a memory, a snapshot of love, trust, and closeness that makes my heart swell with happiness, the same happiness that Josh poured into me last night. The joy that I’ve been drowning in all day. It was overwhelming before, but it feels manageable looking at them. It feels right and good, like maybe dying isn’t such a bad thing. It’s how people change. It’s how they’re reborn; by casting off the demons that claw at their back, walking willingly into the water, and being baptized as something new. Changed for the better.

When Pops’ dinner shows up, we tell him goodbye. I give him a kiss on the cheek. He does the same, the thin feather light feel of his lips brushing across my skin like a bird’s wing.

“I love you, Harlow,” he whispers to me, holding onto my arm to keep me close. “You’re stronger than you feel and smarter than you know. Never forget that, my girl. And when he reminds you, listen.”

“When who reminds me?”

He releases me, letting me stand up straight. He’s smiling mildly, but he doesn’t answer.

I don’t need him to.

“Bye, Pops,” Josh says, hugging him one last time. “We’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“If I’m not dead.”

My mouth drops open, my heart stopped by shock.

It only gets worse when Josh laughs. “Right. Yeah. Unless you’re dead.”

I manage another smile for Pops as Josh ushers me out of the room, leaving behind the scent of rice, gravy, and mint swirling around him. And, maybe I’m paranoid, but there’s also the faintest whisper of beer lingering around the bathroom door.

Out in the hall, I turn to Josh and punch him hard in the shoulder.

“Ow,” he grunts, fainting back a step. “What the fuck?”

“Yeah, exactly. What the fuck, Josh?”

“What?”

“‘If you’re not dead’? For real?”

“It’s a thing he says,” he argues defensively. “He doesn’t say that to you when you leave?”

“No. Why would he say that to me? And why would you ever say it back?”

He shrugs. “If you can’t beat ‘em and all that shit. Look, he’s said that to me every time I’ve left this place for the last year. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just some morbid old dude crap that he likes to do. He’s allowed. He’s eighty-three.”

I frown, still sick in my heart. “I don’t like it.”

“That’s probably why he doesn’t say it to you.” He nudges me playfully, casting me that crooked grin that does strange things to my insides. “He knows you can’t take it, ya pussy.”

“Yeah, well, he just told me I’m stronger than I feel, so, suck it, bitch.”

Josh’s smile darkens. His body closes in. “Just tell me where.”

“Where what?”

He leans in, kissing my cheek delicately. His mouth drifts in close to my ear, covering it with warm breath and wet lips. “Tell me what you want me to suck and I’ll suck it, right here. Right now.”

My knees are weak. My breathing destroyed. My body is electric and humming, vibrating at a frequency only he can match. I’m ready to explode and he hasn’t even touched me yet.

Fuck, this man owns me, body and soul.

I take a tremulous breath, turning my face into his. The scruff on his cheek brushes my sensitive skin abrasively, the feeling deliciously painful. “I’ve never come in a nursing home before.”

“That’s sexy.”

I chuckle, my body shaking with the reaction.

It stills when Josh’s hands touch mine.

“There’s an empty room two doors down,” he whispers seriously. “You in?”

“Are you sure about this?” I ask him nervously, my heart flying in my chest as I give him this one last shot. One final out to save himself from me and all my crazy. “Are you sure about me?”

Josh surprises me when he laughs. He stands up straight, smiling down into my eyes. “Baby, I’ve been sure about you since the second grade.”

“I’m not the same girl I was in second grade.”

“No, you’re not. You’re a lot nicer now.”

“Stop playing around and be real with me,” I demand. “This is serious. This is your life, Josh.”

He sobers, nodding slowly to show me he’s listening. “I know that.”

“I could ruin it.”

“You’re not gonna ruin my life.”

“I might. I do a pretty good job fucking up my own.”

“You’re doing fine.”

“Really?” I insist skeptically. “I seem ‘fine’ to you? Josh, I’m insane.”

He reaches up to run his thumb along my cheek lovingly. “I like that you’re insane. It’s hot.”

“Be. Serious.”

He drops his hand, nodding reluctantly. “Fine. I’m taking this seriously.”

“Then act like it. Think about this. Really think about it.”

“I have.”

“And?”

He takes my hips in his hands, pulling me close to him. Lighting me up inside with the brush of his body against mine. “You keep saying I’m too good for you, but you’re wrong. You’re so fucking wrong, Harlow. I’m not a good man. I like dealing. I like fighting. I like making men nervous when they cross me. I like being in control, especially with you, like when you go all soft inside and you need me like your next breath.” He smiles, crooked and devious. “I like being a man, baby. And I love being a bad one. You can’t ruin that shit if you tried.”

His words aren’t what change things for me. Not really. It’s his voice. It’s a little rough around the edges in a way I never noticed before. Not until last night when he whispered softly in my ear as he drove forcefully inside of me. It makes the hair on my arms stand up straight, shivers running down my spine. My core coiling like a snake in the desert sun.

I wrap my fingers in the front of his shirt, pulling him to me roughly. Forcing his body against mine until he has me pinned up against the wall the way he did last night. It’s suffocating, possessive, and so hot I’m out of my mind with wanting him.

“Josh,” I whisper against his lips, carefully keeping my mouth just out of reach, “I need you to fuck me. Now.”

His face is a hard, gorgeous mask of determination, his hands on my body tightening so hard I whimper from the pressure; blissful and desperate.

“Let’s go to my house,” he grinds out.

I shake my head, gripping his shirt harder. “I said now.”

His eyes flash with excitement. “You really want to do it here?”

“I want to fuck you everywhere,” I breathe before crushing my lips to his.

Josh holds me up, holds me to him. My legs are limp, not cooperating like they should, and what I really want is for him to lift me up so I can wrap my body around him like a python settling in for a feast. But that’s a great way to get caught and banned from seeing Pops again, so we’ll have to be as subtle as we can be.

While making out furiously in the hallway of a nursing home.

“You wanna be bad?” he asks me roughly, his hand sliding inside the back of my jeans to grab my ass. “You wanna act insane?”

I smile puckishly, my blood picking up pace. “Yes.”

“You wanna be fucked everywhere? Anytime?”

“Only by you.”

Josh growls against my lips, pulling me with him. He rushes me up the hall, away from the rooms and toward the front desk. I worry he’s losing his nerve and taking me to his house, but suddenly he jerks us into a sunken doorway with a big red sign screaming, ‘PERSONEL ONLY’. The door is locked, but Josh releases me just long enough to pull a small tool from his pocket. He plays with the lock furtively, using my body to block his movements. Finally, he turns the knob without resistance. I follow him into the dark room, listening as he closes us in, relocking the door.

“Where are we?” I whisper.

Josh’s hands touch my shoulders, making me jump eagerly. “The pharmacy.” He pulls on the straps of my tank top and bra, sliding them off my shoulders slowly. “I’ve thought about breaking in a thousand times.” My shirt lowers to my breasts, barely covering them. “I’ve watched the routine.” Josh releases my top to trace his finger along my breastplate, dipping it low inside my cleavage. “But something always stopped me.”

“What stopped you?” I ask breathlessly, my heart hammering under his touch.

“Morals? My conscience? Fear?” He tugs roughly on my bra, forcing my breasts free. But he doesn’t touch me. He leaves me vulnerable and waiting, gasping in the dark. “What’s in this room isn’t mine. I’m not supposed to have it so I didn’t take it, no matter how much I wanted it. No matter how much I needed it to survive. A good man doesn’t take what doesn’t belong to him.”

I lick my lips, imagining his on my breasts. “But you’re not a good man anymore, are you?”

“I don’t think I ever was. I was what everyone wanted me to be. I did what everyone expected me to do. But do you know what I want to do, Harlow?”

“Tell me,” I plead.

He reaches down to slide his hand over my trembling stomach, breaching the barrier of my jeans, and thrusting his finger inside my wet and waiting slit.

I grip his shoulders desperately, my body bucking under his touch. “Josh,” I pant.

He kisses the corner of my mouth. His finger flutters inside of me. “What I want is to fuck another man’s woman and rob this pharmacy blind. This is me. This is the kind of guy I am on the inside. So I’m gonna ask you the same thing you asked me.” He licks my lower lip before biting it gently. “Are you sure about me, Harlow?”

I can hardly think with his hands on me. Inside me. I can barely breathe, I can’t see, but my other senses are heightened. I hear him clearly. I hear the man that he is, not the boy he used to be. In the dark, I see him better than I have in years.

And I want him more than I ever have before.

“I’m not another man’s woman,” I tell him, taking hold of his face with both of my hands. I bring his forehead to mine, feeling myself go calm inside even as he brings me higher and higher, his finger never stilling. Never stopping. “I’m yours. I’ve always been yours, and I’ll die before I let another man touch me again.”

My promise sets something off inside of Josh. Something wild. He rips my clothes from my body. I feel them stretch and strain, hear them tear at the seams as he pulls them from my me until I’m bare. Until he can lift my naked ass onto the cold counter and thrust himself inside me in one quick, clean movement.

I hold on for dear life as he fucks me recklessly, his breath breaking over his lips with each drive. Small grunts escape him, animalistic sounds that make me proud of him. Of me. Of us and the undeniable, unavoidable nature of everything. We’re not magnets pushing away from each other anymore. We’ve flipped, our poles switching, and there’s no keeping us apart now.

“Always,” he grunts against my shoulder, driving the words into me again and again, desperate for me to hear him. To remember.

“Always,” I echo. I kiss his sweating forehead gently. “Always, baby. Always.”

When we finish, we’ll rob this place. I’ll walk out of here with piles of pills inside my purse and his hand held in mine. I’ll go back to the club and end things with Devo. I’ll cut ties wherever I have to in order to have him, and I’ll be the happiest I’ve ever been in my life because of this moment. This second right here as he makes love to me with a passion only he can bring, rushing it over me wave upon wave.

This is my baptism. I’m born anew in the dark in the arms of a criminal, and it’s the single greatest, freest moment of my life, because despite the cloud of confusion I’ve lived under for most of my existence, I’ve always known one thing to be true beyond a shadow of a doubt.

I am not a good girl.