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A sound that’s neither sigh nor groan and maybe part sob burbles from my throat. Then my eyes squeeze shut, heat fills my head, I put a hand over my eyes.
“Oh fuck.” I start to tremble, feel the sting of bile in my throat. “Why’d you do that? Gwen.” I grip her forearm.
Her eyes find mine. “You didn’t like it?”
I laugh. “Holy fucking— Fuck.” I pull away from her and hold my head. She grabs a tissue from her desk, and my eyes feast on her. Her cheeks are flushed. Her nipples push against the fabric of my jacket, which is stained from what we just did.
“Fuck.” I pull my hair.
She pauses, hands reaching for me. “Are you mad at me?”
Her eyes are wide and innocent.
Because she doesn’t know.
I stalk out her office door, and through the den. I hear her voice behind me as I throw her front door open. My legs are so weak, I sink down on her porch stairs, holding my head with both hands.
She doesn’t know I can’t stop now. I can’t stop now. My dick is still hard. I can’t breathe.
I feel her come around in front of me. Her little hands cup my knees. She’s so gentle. I can feel the kindness emanating from her and it makes me want scream and tear my hair out.
“Barrett? Will you look at me?”
My eyes lift, involuntary.
“What’s wrong, Barrett?” She strokes my thigh.
I laugh. I rub my eyes, shielding myself from her warm gaze with my fingers.
“If I went too far…I’m sorry. I thought… You were hard and I— That was the first time since…” I open my eyes and find hers wide, her face gone pale and earnest. “I’m scared with other people,” she whispers.
I swear to God, I fee
l it all fall down around me. My resolve. My desperate barriers and all my longing—dead leaves scattered at her feet.
I stand up. Walk away! Just walk. You can’t stay here. You can’t tell her. Don’t keep lying. There is nothing you can do, you stupid fucker.
And still—my gaze finds hers. “It’s been that long?” My voice is low and soft, almost unrecognizable.
Her eyes go teary. “Please don’t pity me. I just…I don’t get out, you know? I’m stubborn, and I have my habits, staying here. I’ve gotten…bad at taking chances. I think over time it all got worse. I lose my nerve more every day and until you moved here I thought…”
“You thought what?” I rasp.
She blinks. A tear falls. “I don’t know.” She rubs her eyes. “I’m probably embarrassing myself. I think I did already.” She looks down at her—my—jacket. Her face reddens, and another tear falls. “This is how I’ve always been. I get so dumb and reckless. It’s been even worse with you.” She turns around, her back to me, her face lifting so I think her eyes are on the treetops.
“I’m sorry.”
I see her hands clutching her elbows. She’s hugging herself.
Before I have to choose—to go to her or not—she turns to face me. “I’m the kind of person who gets carried away. I think tonight I did that and I won’t do it again.”
She takes my jacket off, then pulls it to her chest.
“I’ll wash it,” she says, moving toward her door. She turns around and looks me in the eye when she gets on the top step. “Still friends?” she asks.
She gives me a tiny smile, her tongue sweeping over her lower lip as it begins to fade.
This is my out.
