“Oh my God, is it always that…” I struggled to find the right word.
Awesome.
Amazing.
Intense.
Court chuckled and dropped a kiss on my temple.
“Good?” I settled on the word hoping it didn’t give away how euphoric I felt right now.
He slid out of me and I already hated how empty I felt without him. I watched with fascination as Court removed the condom and threw it in a trash can just inside the bathroom. He swaggered back to the bed all easy confidence and laid down beside me with his head propped up on a crooked elbow.
“It’s different with everyone. Just like kissing, some people are better at it and sometimes the chemistry is just better.”
I slipped my bottom lip between my teeth and considered that. Chemistry. Is that why things with Court always felt so much better or had he just had more practice? A jealous heat bloomed in my face. No doubt the women before me had been more experienced and I didn’t know if I was more upset that he’d slept with a whole slew of women better than me or if I was angry that I’d probably not even registered on his radar. Because my mind and body were completely blown.
“Get that worried look off your face,” he instructed as he ran the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip coaxing me to free it from my teeth. “You were perfect.”
“But can you tell I didn’t know what I was doing? I mean, of course you could, you knew, but will other men be able to tell??”
Court’s expression darkened and hardened almost as if the idea of me sleeping with someone else made him want to murder someone, but then that slow charming smile played on his lips.
“First of all, I promise you no man is going to think that – you are perfection. And secondly, we’ve got all night to give you as much experience as you want.”
It was past midnight when we tore ourselves from the bed. My whole body tingled with a Jell-O-y tingly sensation. Court started the coffee pot as I slid onto the bar stool and watched. He’d pulled on the jeans he’d worn earlier, but left his shirt off – well, in fairness I’d stolen the shirt to wear over my dress, but he hadn’t protested, and I was rewarded with a view of denim slung low on his hips and bare feet that made him look domestic and sinful.
My phone sat on the counter in front of me and I snapped a picture of Court just like this. Partly for photographic evidence tomorrow morning when I’d need to prove to myself that this really happened and in part because as amazing as today had been, it felt a little like goodbye.
“Whatcha doing, 8B,” he said catching me staring down at the photo on my phone.
“I’m capturing you at your finest.”
He quirked an eyebrow.
“Should I remove my pants then?” he asked as he playfully moved his hands to the button on his pants.
“Isn’t there some sort of rule against vag shots – I can only assume that goes both ways.”
“I think we’re done with the rules,” he said. “You’ve officially graduated.”
“Do I get a diploma?” I teased.
“Oh yeah.” he rounded the counter and pushed between my legs as he wrapped both arms around my waist. “Maybe we’ll even get you one of those cute cap and gowns to wear while I give you your graduation gift.” He nipped at my ear lobe and then whispered, “Spoiler alert it involves me taking that sweet ass of yours.”
I gasped at the thought and my body hummed at the dirty and totally hot picture it painted in my mind.
“It’s an advanced course,” he said while he trailed feather light kisses down my neck.
I had no words and Court must have taken my silence as hesitation. “Don’t worry, 8B. It’s not the kind of thing you do on a whim – we’ll work up to that.”
I wanted to ask when, and how, and could we start now? He talked like whatever this was between us was going to continue and my heart raced, and my stomach flipped because nothing sounded better. Like a semi-truck hitting a median, my heart screeched to a halt as I remembered that Court and I weren’t real. Sure, he’d said we were done with rules, but it had been his idea to pretend this was real. Was he still pretending? Was he still doing this as a service project?
“Are you okay?”
My eyes landed on Court and he tilted my chin up to meet his gaze head on. “Where’d you go, 8B?”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I just realized how late it is. I really should get home before my parents worry.”
He nodded, but his eyebrows drew together, and he looked like he wanted to interject or stop me.
“Sure, let’s get dressed and I’ll ride with you back to your place.”
I pushed past him, already on my feet and gathering my purse, before he could finish the sentence. “No, that’s silly. It’s late. I’ll be fine. I’ve taken cabs by myself in New York hundreds of times.”
His hands were shoved deep in his pockets as he regarded me carefully, scrutinizing me like he could see every thought as clearly as I they raced through my mind.
“Did I do something wrong?”
My stomach dropped because I knew asking cost him a piece of his pride. I was running just like he was afraid everyone he let close would do, but I couldn’t explain the reasons I needed to be alone anymore than I could explain the way my heart was breaking as I crossed his apartment and opened the door.
“Of course not. Today was perfection,” I said stealing his word. I blew him a kiss, memorized him with the New York city skyline behind him and I left.
His first text came as the cab pulled up in front of my house.
Court: Let me know when you make it home.
Me: Just got here. Safe and sound!
Court’s next response wasn’t immediate. I was washing my face in the hall bathroom when I heard my phone ding from my bedroom. I scrubbed my face with the washcloth quickly and padded down the hallway with my heart in my throat. The time since I’d left Court’s apartment hadn’t made this twisted fake relationship any clearer, but if my eager response to read a text message was any indication of how I felt – I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Court.
Court: How do you feel? You’re not too sore I hope.
Me: A little sore.
I pressed send and then added.
Me: Totally worth it.
Court: Take some Tylenol or Ibuprofen before you go to bed sweet girl. Breakfast or lunch before you head back tomorrow?
Me: I can’t. I have the breakfast with my family tomorrow.
I tapped my fingers nervously on the side of the phone while I waited for his response. Thirty seconds. A minute. Two.
“Ugh,” I groaned out loud into the empty room as I waited for him to respond. To say anything. I didn’t want this to be the end, but breakfast with my family was non-negotiable. I’d barely seen my brothers this trip.
Me: The invitation to come with us is still on the table.
Court: What time and where?
I texted directions and switched my phone to silent. I didn’t wait for Court to text back. Couldn’t take any lame excuses why he couldn’t or didn’t want to go. Instead, I laid my head down on the pillow in my childhood bedroom and forced myself not to worry about graduation, my family, or a future without Court.
“Where’s Mom?” I asked, when I emerged from the haven of my bedroom the next morning. The twins were at the kitchen table with large bowls of cereal like we weren’t going to breakfast in ten minutes.
The smile on my dad’s face was tired and regretful. “She picked up a shift at the diner.”
“What? No, we were supposed to have breakfast together this morning.”
“She’ll be there.”
“It’s not the same,” I pouted and crossed my arms across my chest.
The twins stood, nearly in unison, and put their bowls in the sink. The three men of my family walked from the kitchen toward me.
“We just have to make the most of it, huh?” he said with a smile. A smile that didn’t meet his eyes and didn’t crinkle the smile lines around his mouth. A smile meant for my benefit only – to assure me everything was peachy keen.
The weight of my life and my responsibilities settled back on my shoulders with that fragile smile. We would make the best of it. It’s what we did. We stuck together, we had each other’s backs, and I’d never resented it until now.