The Achilles Heel (19 page)

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Authors: Karyn Rae

BOOK: The Achilles Heel
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The wind picked up again, blowing her long hair around our faces, trapping us in our
kiss. I ran my hands up and down her bare arms, which were trembling and covered with
chills.

“Let me take you inside. You’re shaking; you must be cold,” I whispered.

“I’m not cold, just happy I think, but it’s hard to tell because it’s been a long
time,” she confessed with a shy smile.

In that moment, I was humbled. We’ve known each other about thirty-six hours and that’s
the second time she’s let her guard down.

“Me too,” was all I came up with, but I truly meant it. I gently swept her hair away
from her face so I could see her eyes and keep us in this moment.

After I got Annie back home and settled into her bed with her ankle elevated and heavily
iced, I surrounded her with books and a laptop, making a kind of nest in case she
got bored.

“Your water is on the nightstand with some Ibuprofen, and you should probably take
that soon to help with the pain. Is there anything else I can get you before I go?
Do I have to go?” I asked her, with a perma-grin plastered on my face.

“You’ve already gone above and beyond, so thank you, Kessler. And yes, you have to
go, but I’m hoping you’ll be back,” she whispered with the same grin.

I
loved
hearing my name coming from her lips, and now I was the one getting the chills. Kneeling
down beside her bed, I smoothed away the hair from her eyes, which was just a lame
excuse to touch her skin again, and said, “I don’t know about you, but that was the
most amazing kiss I’ve ever had,” and leaned in for another small one. “Can I call
you or come by to check on you later?” I asked, hoping she would say yes.

“Tomorrow, okay?” she replied, as she meshed our fingers together and gently rubbed
her cheek with my hand. “And yes, I’d say that kiss was up there.”

Taking the steps two at a time and in a full sprint by the time I made it up the rear
steps to my house, ears buzzing and blood pumping, excited for the sun to come up.
I needed to see her face again and fuss over her, if she’d let me. My God, I hadn’t
felt this boyish and young in a long time, probably since I was. Isn’t it just like
a woman to come out of nowhere and knock you on your ass! I wasn’t complaining, just
happy I finally found a woman who could.

ANNIE

T
he swelling in my ankle had subsided over night, but I’d continue icing the rest of
the day, and expected to be back on two feet before dark. Only total devastation of
the earth could dampen my spirits today, and I was fairly certain that wasn’t going
to happen, at least not on this day. My girls were coming this afternoon, and last
night, I’d kissed a boy.

I replayed every detail a thousand times over; fingering his thick, brown hair, the
blue in his eyes that only Crayola could mimic; both of us caught in a state of panic
and pleasure when I brought his face towards mine and his swelling erection that grew
along the length of my thigh the more we kissed. Our embrace was pushing perfection,
and I felt silly and girlish from the moment I woke up this morning; quite a change
from the last six months. My only goal of the day was to allow myself to fully enjoy
this feeling instead of beating myself up over it.

I kept busy by putting fresh sheets on the guest beds and clean towels in the bathrooms,
which took a hell of a lot longer than expected with the use of only one foot. By
the time I finished the chores my ankle was a throbbing mess; it had its own heartbeat.
I needed something stronger than over-the-counter to ignore the pain, but that didn’t
seem likely, so I made a Bloody instead.

It’s quasi-healthy with the celery and the pickled okra. I’ll eat something later
with carbs to soak up the alcohol so I’m not hammered by noon.

The knock at the door was so soft, I barely heard it over the buttering of my toast.
It was Kessler, holding a bouquet of flowers he must have picked on the way over,
and two steaming Starbucks coffees, one of which had recently spilled and was still
burning his hand.

“Oh no, let me get you a towel! Come in, come in,” I insisted, as I put the coffee
down and ran his fingers under the cold water, both of us smiling at each other, but
a bit lost for the right words to start a conversation.

“I didn’t know how you’d be getting around this morning, and I was going for coffee
anyway, so I hope you don’t mind me bringing some over. These are for you,” he finally
said, as he dried off his hands and offered me the flowers. “I won’t stay long, I
know your friends will be here today, but I wanted to take a look at your ankle, and
also tell you how wonderful last night was for me.”

“Thank you, Kessler. Coffee and flowers, are you always this sweet?” I asked, hopping
onto the kitchen counter, my leg running the length of the bar.

He smiled and said, “You caught me on a good day.”

“It’s not as swollen, but the pain is worse today,” I confessed, as he gently manipulated
my foot in his hands.

“I take it that’s what the Bloody is for,” he teased. “I brought you some things from
my medicine cabinet that might help speed your recovery.” He pulled an Ace bandage
and tiny packets of Icy Hot gel from his back pocket, getting right to work on wrapping
my ankle.

Who does this? Nobody is this thoughtful and caring about someone they just met; nobody
this handsome anyway. There has to be a catch. He’s got to be hiding some crazy underneath
that beautiful face.

“I really don’t know what else to say except thank you. I’m speechless and that doesn’t
happen often, so we should both enjoy it.”

“It’s really no big deal. All right, you’re wrapped up, and it should last the day.
Just holler if you need any help, but I don’t think you should run on it for a few
days,” he advised as he turned back towards the door.

Grabbing his hand before he got too far, I pulled him close to me, once again making
the first move. I don’t know what it is with this guy, but confidence is swimming
in the oxygen around me and possesses me with authority. I’m like Annie Oakley wrangling
up a cowboy and holding on tight‌—‌no fear, only guts.

It’s Act II and the story line is the same, but the scenery has changed; we’re on
my turf now. I quickly found myself melting into his freshly showered skin and suffocating
his lips with mine.

His cheeks resembled shiny red apples, ripe with excitement as he ran his hands up
and down my thighs, only momentarily stopping to squeeze my skin or trace the outline
of my knees. We were escalating at mach speed and could easily be naked in a matter
of seconds.

Don’t sleep with him, Annie! Don’t lose your dignity over wet panties and lack of
self-control. He won’t respect you lying in a pool of cum after knowing you only two
days. Don’t be that girl! For God sakes, it isn’t even noon!

I found myself in another raging battle of willpower, resulting in no definitive victory
for my mind or body when considering the end result. On the bright side though, he
wanted me as much as I wanted him, and in a woman’s mind, there is no better scenario.
As I was about to gently end our kiss, he beat me to the punch.

“Whoa,” he stammered stepping back from me, rubbing a non-existent beard on his face
and carefully planning his next thought. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, and
believe me, it’s the first time in my
life
I’ve ever felt this way, but I need to slow down. Please don’t think I don’t want
to be with you, because it’s really the exact opposite. Truthfully, I’m so turned
on right now that if I had the chance to get you naked, I’d probably shoot you across
the room. Jesus, that sounds terrible. Wait… I didn’t mean it like that. Obviously,
I’m having a hard time explaining this, but….” he stumbled over his words.

Holding his flushing cheeks in my hand, I cut in and let him off the hook. “You don’t
have to explain. I think we both feel the same way, but our past is dictating our
fears of the future. I’m not offended in any way and actually think it’s refreshing,
so let’s go slow,” I said in my sweetest voice, giving him a reassuring smile and
a kiss on his lips.

“Listen, I’m not good at dating games; the right amount of time to wait until you
call someone, playing hard-to-get or acting casual when I really like someone. I’m
just too old for that kind of shit. Could that be any more obvious since I showed
up on your doorstep this morning? But, I want you to know I like you.”

“I like you, too. Are you going to ask me to prom?” I said with my most serious face.

He laughed. “See! All traces of coolness are completely gone! I’m acting like such
a douche.”

“No, you’re fine, I’m just teasing you,” I told him. “How about kissing? Is that off
limits?”

“I hope not. I’d hate to think I blew my chances over that little speech about self-control,”
he said as he leaned in close to me, his hands planted firmly on the counter, instead
of near my crotch. Our faces came together again, and I was filled with girlish joy.
I actually felt my insides coming alive.

When our lips started to chafe, we decided a break to our separate corners was in
order. It was clearly impossible to be in the same room with any degree of space between
us, but I asked him to come by later to meet my girlfriends and he said he would.

***

I could hear their voices before they even pulled into the driveway, and I limped
outside to the bottom of the steps to greet my guests.

“Hey!” everyone squealed at once, hugging and talking over each other.

“I’m so glad you girls are finally here! Come in and get settled. I’ll take you on
a tour of the place.”

After a short, gimped up tour of the house and the fight for the room with the ocean
view‌—‌which was won by Claire and Leslie‌—‌Jenna whipped up some appetizers in an
impressive amount of time, and we took a pitcher of margaritas to the patio to talk
over each other some more. This is my favorite part of our girls’ trip. We all have
so much to say, and we’ll be cutting it close with only seventy-two hours available
to fill with conversation. One year we invited the husbands on our trip. After that
week, it was consensus of both the men and the women that you need to have lady parts
to withstand the amount of talking expended in such a short amount of time.

The sun was setting and the candles on our table became brighter when I heard Kessler
playing his guitar from inside his house.

“Is that the radio?” Tori asked, looking around for outside speakers.

“No, I think it’s my neighbor playing. He invited us to one of his shows at this bar
down the road tomorrow night,” I said, hoping they didn’t see through me.

“If he’s any good, I’ll go,” Jenna spoke up, stuffing an oversized beefsteak tomato
into her mouth.

“What
does
everyone want to do while we are here?” Leslie asked the table.

And we’re back!
I thought, as everyone started talking at once, and we held court on the best eateries
and boutiques the island had to offer.

As alcohol quickly over-took the dinner hour, cooking clearly wasn’t an option anymore,
so we ended up eating sandwiches and chips; no one cared if it wasn’t gourmet. I had
given up hope of Kessler coming out and didn’t blame him in the least, but it didn’t
stop me from checking to make sure the light was still on in his kitchen.

Hey girls, this is my neighbor Kessler Kroy. I’ve only known him a few days, but we’ve
already made out a couple of times, and I’m hoping for more as soon as I’m over my
dead husband. Who would want to pass up such a colorful introduction?

“Hi, ladies,” he said, as we all let out a startled scream.

“Jesus, Kessler, you scared us!” I shrieked, holding my chest.

“I’m sorry; I thought you saw me walking through the gate.” He laughed.

“Girls, this is my neighbor Kess and the person you heard playing earlier,” I said
as I fought off a guilty smile. “Come over and have a drink with us!”

“Here, Kess, you can sit next to me,” Tori piped in, way too eagerly.

He got to know my friends a little and I was more relaxed after they had a chance
to meet him. The first meeting between boyfriend (for lack of a better word that describes
our newness) and friend is a crucial one. It ranks only second to the infamous parental
meeting. All future plans can easily become road kill if either of the introductions
go awry, but tonight, Kessler was flawlessly funny and perfectly charming; he nailed
it. To see him laughing with my friends made me like him even more.

“Thanks for the beer and the conversation, ladies. I hope to see you tomorrow night.
Good luck with the rest of the wine tonight,” he teased, as he shot me a devastating
smile and sexy wink.

I watched him walk all the way back to his veranda, and the outline of his muscular
physique was apparent even through the yellow patio lighting.

Once he was safely inside his house, Tori turned to me and asked, “What the hell was
that?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, forcing myself out of a sexual coma. “My neighbor?” I
was blowing it.

“Something’s going on there. I saw you two giving each other googlie eyes across the
table. You’re fucking him!” she drilled me.

“What? God, no! Why would you say that?” I tried to sound appalled, like the thought
had never crossed my mind.

“Annie, you’re trying to bullshit me, and I can smell it a mile away. Don’t forget,
I conveniently walked in on my husband fucking that coffee slut on his desk, and you’re
a fool to think it was a coincidence. I knew that asshole had been fooling around
for months, but was forced to stand outside his office doors listening to their bodies
slapping against each other just so I would catch him red-handed and have the evidence
to clean him out during the divorce. I know when people are fucking! I’m an expert
by now,” she slurred, but I don’t think it was just from the liquor; some of it was
residual pain.

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