186 Miles (10 page)

I
placed my hand in his and followed him into the tub, closing the curtain behind
me.  He cupped my face in his hands.  “Thank you.”

“For
what?”  I smiled up at him.

“For
bringing me back to life.”

I
stood on my toes and kissed him, splaying my hands on his chest.  “I’m coming
back too,” I whispered.

I
immediately felt ashamed. 
How could I say that?
 
What kind of a
person bounces back so quickly?
 I wanted to run from the shower, go back
to bed, pull up the covers and hide for six months.  I stared at the shower
floor, trying to fight impending tears.

“Hey,”
he whispered, pulling my chin up, locking his eyes to mine.  “Don’t run away.”

“I’m
not
.”  I closed my eyes and ran my hair under the hot water.  Vince
squeezed some shampoo in his hands and started to massage it into my scalp.  “I’ve
got it.”  I turned on a dime.  I was suddenly cold.  Distant.

He
pulled me into his body, wrapping his arms around me tightly.  “No, you don’t.” 
I knew what he meant.

Fuck.
  My throat was getting tighter. 
I could feel a sob escape, a string of expletives rolling around in my brain.

I
was crying now. 
Double
Fuck.
  And he was right there to watch
the magic happen.  Vince let me cry as he rinsed my hair and washed my body. 
He had to be getting sick of my little post-coital shame fests.  I know
I
was.
 
He said nothing.  He just helped me to stand, to get clean, to pull myself
together.

63
days.

That’s
how long it took for me to fall in love with Vince.

I
had decided that I needed to visit Elsa in Chicago.  I hadn’t seen her since
the funeral and she had been trying to call me for a few days.  I couldn’t
avoid her forever.  I had to tell her about Vince.  She would be disappointed
but, thankfully, sisters forgive.

The
next night, at dinner, I made my announcement.  Hopefully, he hadn’t planned
anything for the weekend.

“I
think I’m going to visit my sister.”

“Oh
yeah?  Well, I might have to work on Saturday.  Bob made an appointment and now
he doesn’t know if he can be there.” 

I
nodded.  “Well, that’s okay.  I was going to go by myself anyway.  We haven’t
really talked since the funeral and... she also doesn’t know about you.”  I
winced just a bit.

“Oh.” 
He paused.  “Okay.  So, are you going to tell her then?”

“I
kind of feel like I
have
to.  I don’t want to keep things from her.  I
know she’ll tell our mom, which I’m not looking forward to, but I don’t want
them to find out some other way.”

“I’m
pretty sure since
no one
else knows; it would be hard for them to find
out.”  His tone was thick.  He wanted
everyone
to know about us. 

I
had only told Carrie and Lauren.  I didn’t even want him to tell Jack.  So far,
he had kept our “secret.”  I wasn’t sure why I was so concerned with Jack
finding out.  I guess it was just one more of Ryan’s friends that I didn’t want
to disappoint.  I knew Jack would understand, but it still felt too raw.  Too
exposed
.

“I
think I’m going to leave after work on Friday.”  I stood and cleared the dishes
from the table.

He
was silent for a moment.  “You gonna stay at Elsa’s?”

“Where
else would I stay?”

“I
don’t know.  With Jack, maybe?”

“I’ll
probably
call
him, I guess.”

“Are
you going to talk to your mom while you’re there?”

My
mom lived in Naperville, about 35 miles west of Elsa’s apartment.  I hadn’t
planned on seeing her, but Vince planted that seed now.  I would
have
to
take a drive over.  She hadn’t seen me since Ryan had died, but not for lack of
trying.

“Maybe
I’ll go over there for an hour before I come home on Sunday.”

“Anything
you want me to do here?  I noticed the garage is pretty full.”

“Leave
it.”  I couldn’t bear to have him pack Ryan’s things.

“Okay. 
Well, maybe I’ll see if I can get a temporary key to the rental this weekend. 
I could paint or something.”

“That’d
be good.”

His
voice got soft.  “Everything okay?  I feel like you’re being distant.  I don’t
know… something.”

I
walked over to his chair and straddled his lap.  “I’m great.”  I wrapped my
arms around his neck and lowered my lips to his.

He
tightened his grip around my waist, pulling my body closer.  Moving his mouth
to my neck, he slowly licked along the underside of my jaw.  “You always smell
so good.”

I
rocked up on his lap, grinding down a little.  He let out a quiet moan.  I
eased back and off of him, gently lowering to my knees.  Locking eyes, I
fumbled with the button of his jeans.  I unzipped them and lightly brushed my
hand over the front of his underwear. 
Yep, he was ready.
  He caught his
bottom lip in his teeth, looking strained. 
I can’t believe I’m doing this
. 
I was not an expert.  I knew a little about what Ryan liked just by the sounds
that he made.  That was it. 
What if Vince liked something else?

I
knew the basics:  no teeth, mild sucking, make your tongue as wet as possible,
relax your throat.  That was about the extent of my oral skills.  I had never
once swallowed.  It had never gotten that far. 
What if Vince came? 
I
mean, I should expect that he
would
, right?

Stop
being neurotic, Rachel.  Just grab it and go.

I
eased him out of his underwear. 
Relax.  Quit being such a prude.
  I
took the tip and placed it in my mouth, easing my lips down. 
This wasn’t so
difficult, right?
  I continued to focus. 
What had I seen done?  What
had I read about?
  I tried all of the tricks.  Vince strained his back
against the kitchen chair.  “Fuck…”

Oh,
he liked
that.
  I started to take mental notes.

1.
                 
Place hand
along base and squeeze just a bit.   

2.
                 
Shuffle your
grip a little. 

3.
                 
Lick along
sides; creates positive feedback.

4.
                 
Develop
friction. 

5.
                 
Weird pee
hole?  Put your tongue into it.  Not
too
much.

6.
                 
Make noises. 
Enthusiasm is key.  The more noise
I
make, the more
he
makes.

He
was writhing in his chair now, his hands tugging at my hair slightly, his hips
elevating. 

“Aaah,
Rachel.  You’ve gotta stop unless you want me to come.”  His voice was
strained.  He was close.

I
had
to know.
 
I
had
to swallow
.
  Lauren told me
once about this place right below the tip… it was called the “P-Spot.”  She had
described it in great detail as only she could do.  You were supposed to push
on it.  Or massage it.  I couldn’t exactly remember. 
Now or never,
Stephens.  Just find it and go from there.

I
found it.

Vince
gripped the side of the chair, stilling in his seat, gasping for air.  I, on
the other hand, nearly choked.  I tried a trick I had read in Cosmo about massaging
your own throat while you swallowed.  I was able to get it down, but it was kind
of gross… and salty. 
Ugh, how did girls do this?
  Maybe I would have to
try a different Cosmo trick next time:  cover it with my hand or just throw a
towel over it and run away.

I
looked up at him. 
Why was I embarrassed? 

“I
love you
so
much right now.”  He was breathing hard.  He leaned in and
took my face in his hands.  He brushed his lips to mine and gave a short
laugh.  “You are good at literally
everything
.”

I
smiled.  “Really?  It wasn’t bad?  I was so nervous.  I didn’t know what you
would like.” 
Was I really being this casual with him?  I was talking about
it like I wasn’t sure if he liked wheat or rye.

“Rachel,
you never have to do
anything
that you’re nervous about.”  He stroked
the side of my face with his fingertips.

“No,
I just meant that I didn’t know what you would like and so
that
made me
nervous.  I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

He
laughed.  “I thought you didn’t
do
that really, so I was surprised, I
guess.  You’ve got some moves, Stephens.”  He shifted in the chair and buttoned
his pants.

I
stood.  “I
don’t
do that.  I mean, I really haven’t.” 
Just spit it
out, Rachel.
  “I’ve never swallowed.”

“Oh.” 
He stood and took my hands in his.  “Now I
feel
bad.”

“Why? 
You told me it was happening and I didn’t stop.”  I paused.  “It wasn’t
bad
,”
I lied, “I just wasn’t ready, I suppose.  I mean, maybe there is no way to get
ready for a burst of semen in your mouth.”  I laughed aloud, lightening the
air.

“Best. 
Girlfriend.  Ever.”

I
turned to him.  “Hey, Vince?”

“Yeah.”

“I
wanted to ask you about something.  When we first met, you told me that you
weren’t a ‘dater.’”

“Yeah?”

“Well,
now you’re so different.  You call me your girlfriend and you tell me you love
me… you want to tell everyone about us.  I just wondered what had changed.”  I
braced myself for his answer.

“You.”

“What
do you mean?”

“
You
changed me.  I
like
a lot of things, you know?  I like music and I like
my job and I like my friends.  But I had never felt love for anyone other than
Melora… and she totally fucked me over.”

Wait,
who
?

“Who’s
Melora?”

*

“My
ex-girlfriend.  We were together for a few years.”

“Define
‘a few.’”

“Five.”

Whoa.

“That’s
kind of a long time, Conti.  Seems like you would have brought her up before
now.”

“Why? 
I’m not with her anymore and I don’t love her or want to get back together, so
it seems unproductive to talk about it.”

I
supposed he was right.  But I
did
want to talk about it.

“It’s
not unproductive.  I want to know.” 
Did I?

“Well…
I met her when I was about 28, I guess.  She was a singer in a band and I was
working at a small recording studio at that point.  She came in to record a
demo and I ended up moving in with her a week later.”

Ouch.
  I
really
didn’t want to
know about this.  I felt a stabbing sensation in my chest. 
Why was I having
this reaction?  Did I think that he never had a girlfriend before?

“Oh.” 
What was I supposed to say?

“What?”

“Nothing.” 
Just kill me now.
  I couldn’t breathe.  I needed to lie down.  Instead,
I sat on the couch and clutched a throw pillow.

“Aw,
what’s the matter?”  He chuckled.  “Surely you knew that I’ve dated
someone
before.”  He slid into the space next to me, moving close.

“I
guess I didn’t expect it to hurt.” 

I
was an idiot.

“Come
here.”  I placed my head to his chest and he cupped the back of my neck.  “I
never felt for
one day
about Melora like I feel about you.”

Fucking
Melora
.  Even her name was making my fists clench.

“Okay,”
I mumbled.

“Rachel,
listen.  She means
nothing
.  I just mentioned her because you asked me
why I didn’t date.  I guess it was because she broke me a little and I never
wanted to get into all of that stuff again… until I met you.  I fell in love
with you, so there wasn’t anything I could do.”

Ah. 
I could breathe again.

“So,
what happened?  You know, with her?”

“Like
why did we break
up
?”

“Yeah.”

“She
got an abortion.”  He said it so
casually
.

“What?”

“She
got pregnant, she didn’t tell me and then she got rid of it,
also
not
telling me.”