Miles From Kara (12 page)

Colt slipped a second finger inside me, and all thought and control disappeared. “Oh my God. God. I—I—” And then I exploded, every feeling and emotion and thought bursting through me, my breathing unsteady. He continued to move his fingers inside me, taking me through my climax and then bringing me slowly back down. I kept my eyes closed, and smiled once I was safely able to talk without moaning. “Wow. That was . . . wow.”

Colt kissed my lips. “You're perfect.” Then he leaned into my ear and whispered, “And trust me when I tell you, that was only the beginning.”

Colt ran his thumb over my hand as we walked down the sidewalk toward his office and Helping Hands. I couldn't get my mind to focus on anything but last night, the intimacy of being with him—the intensity. I wondered if every orgasm would feel just as amazing or if the first was special, like the first cup of coffee in the morning. All the other cups after the first were just coffee, but the first was like magic. Maybe orgasms were the same way.

Fantastic, Kara, now you're comparing sex to coffee.

I glanced over at him, praying he couldn't sense my thoughts or the reaction my body was having at the memory of last night, only to find him grinning at me.

“What?”

“I was just thinking about my plans for you tonight.”

I smiled back. “Oh, really?”

We reached Applegate & Long. “Come by later?” he asked, leaning in to give me a kiss. I closed my eyes, sighing at his earthy scent. “Hm, you're killing me with those sounds.”

“You're killing me with those lips,” I said, kissing him once more. I pulled away before I embarrassed myself outside of his job and mine. “So, tonight?”

“Tonight.”

We said our goodbyes, and I continued on to Helping Hands, where I was supposed to meet Maggie for our shopping trip. I had convinced myself that a single present was no big deal, that I would view it as helping someone in need, no attachments, no emotions. I could do that . . . maybe.

“Hey!”

“Hey,” I said as I reached Helping Hands. Maggie was already there, standing outside in her ready-to-pop glory, looking beyond excited. I could almost feel Tori's judging gaze from inside the center, but I knew she wouldn't come out to voice her opinion in front of Maggie. Besides, we agreed a gift was okay. I just had to keep it to one gift . . . or a combination that technically equaled one gift. Same thing. “Are you ready?”

“I am. Where are we going?”

I motioned to my car, parked just down the street. “I thought we could go to Babies R Us. Is that okay? You can check out a few things you need.”

“Wow. The only baby store I've been in so far is Walmart.”

I smiled. “Well, that changes today. Let's go.”

It took me a surprisingly long amount of time to find the Babies R Us, even though I'd pulled the address up on maps on my phone. For all my organizational ways, I had zero sense of direction.

We had been driving for about ten minutes, talking about mindless things like the latest movies to hit theaters, when I decided it was time to ask the question I had been dying to ask Maggie for weeks now. I just hoped I could ask her without pushing her away. “So, Maggie,” I asked. “Have you reached out to Addie's father?”

She stiffened. “I told you, it was a random fling.”

I hesitated, knowing that I was probably about to cross the line, but I couldn't stop myself. “But do you know him? Even if the sex was random, I think he deserves to know that he's having a baby.”

I thought of Preston's face when I'd told him, how he refused to talk to me for months.

“He wouldn't care.”

“How do you know?”

She lowered her head. “He's just not the kind of guy who cares about anything. Forget a baby.”

I pulled into the Babies R Us, and parked my car, then turned to look at her. “Look, I don't know the guy. He could be a serious ass. I'm just saying, the baby is half his. He deserves to know about her. Just think about it, okay?”

“I know you're right,” she said reluctantly. “I just don't . . . I don't know.”

I let it drop as we grabbed a cart at the store, and I worried that Maggie's mood would be ruined from the conversation, until she stepped inside the store and her face lit with excitement. I smiled over at her, glad that I could help make her this happy.

“What should we look at first?” I asked.

Maggie's eyes went wide as she glanced around. “Oh, I have no idea. It all looks amazing . . . and complicated.”

I bit back a laugh as she fiddled with a breast pump. I had next to no clue about much of this stuff myself. But my mom had four sisters, most with kids younger than me, so I'd been to my fair share of baby showers. I felt like I could get us around.

“Why don't we start with car seats? You'll need one to be able to take her home from the hospital.”

We made our way down the long aisle, and as we went from car seat to car seat, I realized I knew far less than I originally had thought. There were a thousand brands and colors and options, all seeming equally important. And the more features they had, the higher the cost.

My phone buzzed and I peered down to see a text from Colt.

Having fun doing the baby thing?

Very funny. I'm currently in car seat hell.

He replied with a smiley face.
Just think about our plans later.

Are these good plans or bad?

Most definitely good.

I smiled as I put my phone away, already eager to see him later.

“Okay . . . maybe we should have started in bedding,” Maggie said, a confused expression on her face.

I burst out laughing. “Good idea.”

We spent the next hour perusing adorable bedding—pinks and yellows and purples. Then we walked over to the cribs and matched the bedding to the crib, settling on a white one we both loved. We rocked in all the gliders, then checked out the highchairs and strollers, and I felt better and better about my decision to take her shopping. Counseling was about helping others, and it felt good to help Maggie out. I thought back to my meeting with Dr. Hamilton, about my questioning whether I should switch majors. I smiled at how far I'd come. A few months ago, I wasn't sure what to do, and now I couldn't imagine doing anything else. I knew I walked a fine line between professionalism and becoming overly invested, but as Colt had said, it was human nature to care. He always managed to say whatever I needed to hear. God, I loved that boy.

I stopped walking as soon as my thoughts sunk in. Love. That wasn't right. Colt and I had just begun to grow close. This wasn't love. Not yet. But I had to admit that I was falling hard and fast. I couldn't seem to stop myself, despite my best efforts to take things slow. Colt understood me in a way no one had ever understood me, and the freedom to be myself had become intoxicating. I pulled out my phone and reread his last text, my heart dancing as I read each word again. Yeah . . . I was definitely falling.

Maggie and I finally circled back to the car seats, and I found a Chicco that looked like it had all the safety features and was moderately priced. “Maggie, this one looks . . . Maggie?”

I looked all around the aisle. She had disappeared. I abandoned the cart and began rushing down the hall, petrified that I had lost her. But then I remembered that she wasn't a toddler. She was practically an adult, only a few years younger than me. I calmed myself down to a walk and peered around. Finally, my gaze locked on a head in the infant clothing section that looked a lot like Maggie's. I made my way through the maze of clothing racks to find her standing in front of a rack of layettes. I opened my mouth to ask what she was doing, when I noticed tears rolling down her face.

“Maggie, are you okay?”

She turned her head to me, a giant smile on her face. “I'm sorry. I just saw all these clothes and had to come look. I mean, look at this.” She held up a tiny white outfit with matching bonnet. “I'm going to have a little person soon. A little person tiny enough to fit in this. It's just . . .” She wiped away her tears. “I'm scared and worried, but I'm also so excited. I love this baby already.”

I smiled. “Of course you do, sweetie. And it'll work itself out. Things usually do.” I thought of Colt's accusation that I couldn't have a conversation without using some saying and found myself smiling wider. How had he learned my tics so quickly?

“Let's get it,” I said, excitedly.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “It's forty dollars. I couldn't.”

“I insist.” I took the outfit from her. “And I think I found a car seat.”

She shook her head again. “What would I do without you?”

“You don't have to worry about that. Just worry about that baby in there. She's all that matters now.”

She ran a gentle hand over her belly. “Little Addie.”

I covered her hand with my own. “Little Addie.”

***

I closed the door to my car once back at Charleston Haven, my heart full of contentment, and then I caught sight of the guy sitting on the bottom step leading up to my apartment, and my heart soared. I started for him, a slow smile creeping across my face.

“You're early,” I said as I reached him. We were supposed to meet an hour later, so I could get changed.

“What can I say? I couldn't wait.” He stood, and I noticed a small bag in his hands.

“What is that?”

He grinned. “Just a little something.” I reached for it and he pulled the bag out of my grasp, teasing me. “Patience.”

“Says the person who couldn't wait.”

He leaned down to kiss my cheek, then neck. “Good point.”

I unlocked my apartment, we slipped inside, and Colt set the bag on the counter. “Now?” I asked, bouncing with excitement. He had bought me a present. No one gave me presents unless it was my birthday or a holiday.

“Now,” he said, watching me.

I gave him another small smile before glancing into the open bag. My smile widened as I reached inside and pulled out a candle. It was a deep ivory with flecks of something baked into the wax, clearly handmade and very likely from the Market. A tingly sensation moved through me as I leaned down to smell it—all apples and cinnamon. “This is amazing,” I said, my eyes flicking up to his.

“I noticed you had several in your room. I thought maybe you collected them or something.”

“I do. It's perfect.” I turned the candle around, searching for what it represented, but not seeing anything. It must have fallen off. “What does it do?”

Colt's eyebrows drew together. “Um . . . burns? It's a candle.”

I laughed. “I know what it is. I mean, what does it do, what will it bring me?”

His expression turned from confusion to worry. “I . . . It's a candle.”

I burst out laughing then, unable to stop. “I'm not crazy.”

“Debatable.”

“I collect mood candles. Like Peace and Clarity. Stuff like that. You burn them and they bring to you whatever the candle promises.”

“So . . . let me get this straight.” He was smiling now, on the verge of laughing. “You burn a candle and you believe it controls your mood. Not your own mind. But the candle?”

“Well, I—”

He swept me into his arms before I could continue, kissing me, a smirk still on his face. “You are the strangest person I've ever met. But I'm glad you're mine.”

“Yours, huh? You must be pretty lucky to snag such an awesome chick,” I teased, rising onto my toes to kiss him again.

He pulled me close, his eyes speaking a thousand emotions I knew we weren't ready for him to say. “The luckiest.”

“So . . . what you're saying is that you relate to Maggie and are afraid of Colt?”

I leaned back into Rose's leather sofa, her beside me in the matching chair. It had been two weeks since I'd taken Maggie shopping, and two weeks since Colt gave me the first orgasm of my life . . . and then the second the night of the shopping trip. I still couldn't figure out how he had managed it with so little effort.

I had stopped by Rose's for another teaching session, which basically meant I would unload my feelings with her, she would give her opinion, and we would call it teaching, though I realized it sounded a lot like therapy. But it wasn't. At least that was what I told myself. I only had time to see her every few weeks, so it wasn't like structured therapy anyway.

“I'm not afraid of him. I just think he's the first guy I've ever been with who's made me feel anything, and it's a little intimidating.”

She reached for her pack of cigarettes, then remembering my unease—even though I had never mentioned a word of it—set it back down. “What do you mean ‘feel'? Are you having feelings of love?”

“Um . . . I don't know. But that's not the feeling I meant.” I closed my eyes, cursing myself for bringing this up to Rose.

Rose opened her mouth, then closed it back, her hawk-like eyes squinting as though trying to probe my brain for information. “For once, I'm the clueless one. It's rare, but it happens. Care to enlighten me?”

Oh my God. This was not happening. “Forget I said anything. It's—”

“Kara, pretend that you were in my shoes. Would you want the patient to trust you?”

I sighed. “Yes.”

“Well, then. Continue.”

I eyed the cuckoo clock against the wall beside her desk, then the shelf full of weird cat trinkets on the other side of the desk. Why didn't Olivia tell me that her therapist was a nut job? I mean, a cat dressed up like a clown? That had to be in some psychology book somewhere with a description for signs of crazy beside it.

“Kara . . .”

“Fine,” I said, lowering my voice to a barely there whisper. “I was talking about having an orgasm. I had my first one with Colt and we weren't even having sex.” I placed my hands over my face, humiliated beyond belief that I just said all that to a therapist.
Olivia's
therapist! Ugh!

Rose leaned forward. “So you're saying your first sexual experience was with Colt?”

“No. Don't you remember the abortion talk?”

Rose kept her eyes on me. “I see you and Olivia share a love for the dramatics. Yes, I heard you the first five times we talked about the abortion—even though we've really yet to
actually
talk about it. But having sex does not mean that it was an experience. It's just your body and another person's body, unless you make the decision to feel and participate during that interaction. It sounds to me like you had yet to feel . . . until you were with Colt. Am I right?”

I stared off into Rose's office, remembering the first time I met Colt. The first time I spoke to him on the phone. The first time I realized that my heartbeat picked up whenever someone said his name.

Feeling a sudden surge of bravery, I picked up my head and looked her squarely in the eyes. “You're right.”

“Then why does it surprise you that you were able to have an orgasm with him, but no one else? We are women, Kara. We are complicated beings who tend to need something deeper to find our satisfaction. Sometimes that something is the need for comfort. Sometimes that something is the want from someone else. But oftentimes, we just want to feel a connection, and if that connection is there, the sky's the limit.”

“So you feel this is normal? To be nineteen and just now experiencing an orgasm?”

Rose smiled. “Very normal. Though, I doubt this is your first orgasm. You're human, after all. It's just your first orgasm someone other than yourself or your shower head or whatever helped you reach.”

I jerked up. “What? Ick! I don't—”

Rose lifted her hand. “Spare me. Despite this impeccable complexion, I wasn't born yesterday.”

I leaned back into the sofa again, contemplating my reasons for continuing to see Rose. God, she was difficult. I wondered if Olivia found her sessions this frustrating.

“But . . .” Rose continued, “while I find your sexual experiences very normal, I'm not sure I find your relationship with Maggie to be wholly good for you.”

“Maggie?” I asked, surprised at the change in subject.

Rose pulled her notepad from the table beside her desk and jotted something down. I rose higher in my seat, craning my neck to see, but she set the notebook back down and tsked at me for trying to look. “I am a professional here. We agreed that you'll learn through this experience, so at the end of our . . .
agreement
,
I will show you my notes. Deal?”

I tilted my head uneasily. “I feel like I'm agreeing to something I don't understand.”

Rose laughed. “Your name should be irony, dear. That sentiment is the very issue I have with Maggie.” My eyebrows threaded together, so Rose continued. “Your mother all but forced you to have an abortion at sixteen. Maggie, a sixteen-year-old pregnant girl, is having her baby, and you, against all warning from your boss, Tori, are getting too involved with the girl. Don't you think it's possible that you are using Maggie to fill the void left behind by your baby?”

I shook my head. “No. That's crazy. I didn't have a baby. I had a cell. Or whatever. I was barely pregnant.”

“At just six weeks, your baby had a heartbeat. I do not judge those who choose to have an abortion. It's a personal decision, a difficult decision. But that doesn't change the fact that the baby is indeed a baby, even in those early weeks.”

I wrapped my arms around myself like they could shield me from her words, make them untrue. “That can't be right. I've Googled it. Babies are tiny at that age. The size of a lima bean. Smaller.”

“That doesn't make that baby any less a living being.”

“But I thought . . .” I tried to swallow, but couldn't seem to make my throat work. I pictured my baby, with my eyes and hair. “No, she wasn't real.”

“She?”

“Oh . . . I meant . . . it.”

Rose leaned back in her chair. “Maggie's baby is a girl, isn't she?”

“Yes, but that doesn't mean anything. I don't know why I said
she
.”

“Kara, dear, you are walking a dangerous line here. I suggest you request for Maggie to be transferred to another counselor. There is nothing healthy about this. Nothing at all.”

I stood up, growing frustrated. “This is ridiculous. She is just a girl that I'm trying to help. What's so wrong with helping someone? It's human nature!”

“There is nothing wrong with helping another person . . . if your motives are pure, and I'm not sure yours are.”

“I don't know what you mean.”

“You know that what I'm saying is true, Kara. I can tell by the look on your face.”

I shook my head, anger building in my chest. “Well, thanks for your opinion,
doctor
. I'll try to take it into consideration. I have to go.”

“Kara, wait,” Rose said, standing. “I'm just trying to help you see the root problem. Just like Tori. Age is a magnificent magnifying glass. You're able to see the complexities that are often overlooked when you're young. I think it would help you to talk about this openly.”

“I . . . This . . . I have to go.”

“Kara . . .”

“I'm sorry, I have to be somewhere. This . . . I can't.”

And then I swept from her office and down the sidewalk. I made it all the way to the corner before I burst into tears.