Page 10 of Something like Desire

“I think my mom’s in love with him,” I admit. “I’ve never seen her face like that. She seemed so...happy.” I cry even harder, and Jayden gives me a moment. When I finally calm down a little, he continues talking, just above a whisper.

“So... you’re just going to let them continue this affair without warning your mom about how much she’ll regret this when the lust fades? Cause that’s what it probably is... lust. It can’t be love... not yet anyway. Youhaveto confront her. It’s not like you to give up, Lexi.”

“I know,” I whisper. This is Jayden’s idea of tough love, which I usually appreciate. I like when he motivates me, especially his pep talks about not calling in sick from work when I’m perfectly fine and just don’t want to go. In this case, though, I can’t bear the thought of facing this situation any time in the near future. All I want right now is to fall asleep for a really long time, so I don’t have to think about any of it.

Jayden shifts onto his side and presses a soft kiss to my cheek. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. We stay like that—his face nuzzled against mine, my tears soaking into the pillow, his arm resting gently across my waist. The warmth of him, the quiet of the room... it all blurs together until my eyes grow heavy and I start to drift.

I wake up with a jolt.

For a second, I think I’m late for work but then I remember it’s Sunday. Light is streaming in through the cracks between the blinds, and Hairball saunters across our bodies, making a noise too jarring to be considered a purr. More like a chainsaw starting up. He wants us to stop holding each other lovingly, for me to vanish, and for Jayden to get up and serve him his breakfast.

Jayden yawns and rolls over onto his stomach, tracing a pattern on the gap of skin between my jeans and fitted tee. “You slept with your clothes on all night?” he mumbles sleepily.

“I was emotionally exhausted,” I say.

“And now?”

I bury my face in his comforter, breathing in the fresh scent of his fabric softener. “Now I’m slightly less exhausted but just as heartbroken.”

Jayden’s hand slides under the waistband of my jeans and he runs his fingers along the edge of my panties. “I don’t know about curing heartbreak, but I think I can make you feel pretty good.”

I lie still as he unzips my jeans and disappears under the covers to pull them down my legs and over my ankles.

He emerges from beneath the blanket, kissing across my collarbone and up my neck and behind my earlobe. “I want you,” he whispers into my ear, his breath fanning across my skin. He peels off my T-shirt and unhooks my bra, tossing them aside. I notice the faint scent of his shampoo, the light pressure of his chest against me, the slow, even rise and fall of his breathing—and try to immerse myself in it all.

“Mmm,” I murmur.

Jayden shimmies out of his boxers and peels off his T-shirt, giving me a few seconds to take in his lean frame. He makes his way over me, supporting his weight with his arms. I wrap my legs around his waist and he slips inside of me. He moves slowly, steadily, and I try to match his rhythm, to sink into it. I tell myself this is what closeness feels like, that if I focus hard enough, something might click.

But as much as I try to stay in the moment, my mind starts wandering back to last night, watching Mom come out of the hotel room with that look on her face. Does sex with Jayden give me a look like that? Has it ever? I focus on how stimulated I feel each time he runs his hands across my body, cups my breasts, enters me, and it’s fine, it’s good, but could it be wilder? More passionate?

“Give it to me harder,” I whisper.

Jayden makes a noise that sounds halfway between a surprised exhale and a moan and thrusts quickly a few times as he comes, then collapses onto me with a low groan.

He rolls over on his back beside me and takes some long, deep breaths. “That was as close as you’ve come to dirty talk before. You’ve never done that. Was it just that good today?” He smiles, proud and sweet, and I feel a pang of guilt for not being fully present like he is.

“I wanted to try something different,” I say, as lightly as possible. I realize that we’re heading into dangerous territory here but I can’t seem to stop myself.

“Different?” Jayden repeats, turning on his side, propping his head up with his hand. He regards me with his curious gaze; his eyes look smaller without his glasses. “Why do we need different?”

“We don’tneeddifferent,” I say. “I just wanted to shake up the routine.”

“Sex with you isn’t a routine,” Jayden says, his jaw tightening slightly. “Do you see it that way?”

“No. Wrong word. Sorry.” I shift on the bed, suddenly aware I sound more critical than I feel. “I just wanted this to feel... different, in a good way.”

“This is what I was scared of,” Jayden says with a sigh. He rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling. “What’s going on with your parents is affecting us.”

I didn’t mean it that way. He should know that. A lot of stuff has happened over the last few days—it’s hard to always choose the right words. “Look, I’m sorry I said that. Let’s not make this bigger than what it is.”

Jayden gives me a sidelong look. “Your Mom cheated and now you think you need to spice things up to keep me faithful too? You don’t need to do that, Lexi.”

I don’t want to fight with him, ever, but especially not now, and I want to just apologize profusely and end this, but I also want to tell him to stop overanalyzing. “If I could take back talking dirty to you, I would, believe me. You’re making this into such a big deal.” I don’t mean to sound cruel—I just wish we could stop picking everything apart.

A long moment of silence follows. I want to get up now and go home to my own apartment where I don’t have to dance around my words and there’s no cat plotting my death.

“I’m sorry,” Jayden finally says. “I got into my head about your parents. It wasn’t you, it was me, and my outburst was annoying.”