Let Me: Let Me Fall Part 30

I would have taken off even without the promise of being able to have Carolyn tonight, though. This weekend was supposed to be me, Frank, Vince, Mike, and Mike's older brother at the house. The plan was for skiing Sat.u.r.day, football Sunday, heading home Monday. Good friends, beers and laughs.

We'd just gotten back from the mountain on Sat.u.r.day. I was bringing firewood in from the back deck when I heard the laughter. Female laughter. Frank looked back towards me with a guilt-ridden expression and eyes that pled: I didn't know, as he grabbed Sadie's bag. I'm gonna kill him. Shocker...Sadie was accompanied by four friends, Kenzie among them. How f.u.c.king convenient: five guys, five girls. Vince looked ecstatic while I'm sure I'd just turned an angry shade of purple.

"I'm just gonna throw the girls' bags into my room for now. This is a nice surprise," Frank added, nervously.

I set about starting the fire, so irate that I didn't trust myself to speak. The other guys went over to help with their bags. They were all relaxed, making small talk with the girls-no big deal. I, on the other hand, felt ambushed, p.i.s.sed off, and disappointed. My closest friend and his girl were not looking out for my best interests.

I walked by Frank when he tried to pull me aside. He wanted to spin his bulls.h.i.t story about having no idea that Sadie was planning to come up. "Now that they're here, let's just have fun. No reason to make it awkward, right?"

No reason at all. Right. I nodded, lips tight, teeth clenched. Sure, Carolyn would be totally cool with me spending the night partying with Kenzie. Just like I'd want her hanging out at a ski house and drinking with Todd or whatever that f.u.c.ktard's name was. Deep breath, Rivers.

When Mike came into the kitchen, he eyed me warily. "You good?"

"I'm sorry to bail on you but I'm outta here, all right?"

"I get it. Kristi would be none too happy about this but these girls don't run in the same circles as my girl, so I'll just keep quiet about it. I'd grab a ride home with you but my brother is pretty excited about the change in plans. Hey, the guys will be outnumbered so maybe he can have two."

"I'm out."

Kenzie stood in the corridor as I walked past and made my way into my room. "Can we talk for a second?" I ignored her. "I told Sadie this wasn't a good idea and now I can see that it really was not a good idea." She had tears in her eyes.

"It wasn't. I don't like being blindsided."

"Jeremy, we can just hang out as friends."

"We're not friends, Kenzie."

She took a defiant stance, hand on her hip, chin raised. The crocodile tears were gone all of a sudden. "What, is your girlfriend the jealous, insecure type? Can't handle you being around me?"

"So you know? You know that I'm with her now and you decided to come here anyway?"

Kenzie closed my door behind her and advanced on me. She stopped abruptly and lowered her head before raising it again to reveal a sad, concerned expression. This girl was gunning for an Oscar. "Sadie has told me nothing good about her. From what I've heard, you're falling right back in with some girl who's clearly trouble. She thought nothing of crushing her last boyfriend, then dumped you without-"

"Stop!"

She kept coming. She was less than a foot away from me when she put her hands on my chest and whispered, pleading, "Didn't her last boyfriend kill himself? This girl has mental problems, Jeremy. Can't you see that?"

I gripped her wrists harder than I'd intended and shoved her away from me. "Shut your f.u.c.king mouth."

I wasn't explaining s.h.i.t to Kenzie or to anyone else. And Sadie spreading lies and bulls.h.i.t? Can't say I was done with Frank but I'd never see Sadie in the same light again. The people who mattered to me knew Carolyn-they knew she was good and that she was good for me.

As I was stuffing gear into my bag at a furious pace, Kenzie made one last ditch effort. "I care about you. I just want you to consider the idea of us. No complicated past, no drama. I really care about you, Jeremy."

I slung my bag over my shoulder. "But I don't care about you, Kenzie. I never will. Find someone who does care and waste this act on them."

I pushed past her and quietly made my way to my car. Frank just let me pa.s.s by. He knew better; he knew I was about one stupid comment away from knocking his teeth loose.

The door was open when I got to Jeremy's after midnight. He was asleep on the couch. He looked delicious, with his hair mussed and his bare torso on display, but he also looked like a little boy with his eyes closed and his lips parted, one hand tucked underneath his cheek.

I put my bag in the corner and made my way to the bathroom as quietly as possible. I needed a shower; I always smelled like garlic bread after a shift at La Viola. Jeremy told me that he craved garlic bread, that he lived to eat garlic bread. I giggled remembering him chasing me around his apartment the last time I came over after work.

Ooh that feels good. The hot water soothed my tired muscles as I worked Jeremy's manly smelling shampoo into my hair.

"You do know you're every boy's fantasy right now, don't you?" I turned to see him looking at me through the shower gla.s.s door, reaching down to push his sweats off. "Dripping wet, soap suds sliding down those beautiful t.i.ts, that round a.s.s just begging to be touched."

I felt so turned on when I was near him. "So come on in here and touch me."

I needed him to touch me. His dirty words had set me on fire. Now I was aching between my legs for him.

"No, touch yourself. I want to watch you."

He slid the shower door open half-way. I could see him stroking himself. My s.e.x was throbbing and I was so drugged with desire that I could barely keep my eyes open as I slid my fingers between my legs. I made a conscious decision to let go and then barely recognized the moan that escaped my lips a moment later.

"Tell me."

"Ooh, I'm close already, Jeremy. It feels so good it almost hurts."

"f.u.c.k," he let out on a strangled breath. "Keep talking," he commanded.

"Please, baby, come in. I want to taste you while I touch myself."

He stepped in and directed the spray away from me as I knelt down before him. "Are you sure?"

I nodded before licking my lips and taking him in as far as I could. "Oh f.u.c.k," he groaned.

Who was I? Before this boy, the thought of s.e.x scared me; there was nothing good a.s.sociated with it in my past. But since that first time he'd held me close to his big, strong body in the lake, being with him in this way was all I could think of. And now I had him. And his words, the way he looked at me, the way he touched me and made me feel so very much a woman...he had me too.

I moaned as I rocked my hips against my hand and the vibration set him off. "Oh, Carolyn," he cried out as he jerked his hips and came in my mouth. I swallowed him down and then raised my face to the stream of water as he pulled out.

"Come here," he said, gripping me by my elbows and raising me up. He crushed his lips to mine as his hands grasped my a.s.s. "That was the hottest thing I've ever seen, baby."

I could feel his d.i.c.k hardening again already against my belly. "I need a taste," he whispered as he spun me around and braced my hands against the tiles. He was on his knees then, spreading my legs and pushing his face against me.

It really did feel so good that it was painful. I was tingling and aching-on the verge of exploding. I wanted him to stop and just f.u.c.k me but my body was moving, pushing back against him, taking everything he'd give me. "More," I heard myself moaning. His fingers circled me, placing pressure right where I needed it. My hips bucked. I needed more. "Please," I begged.

"Please, what? What do you want me to do?"

"I want you inside of me."

He stood and bent me over at the waist. His two ma.s.sive hands held my hips tight as he pounded into me. "You feel so good, you feel so good," he chanted.

I could feel him, thick, pulsing, hard-deep inside me. "More, Jeremy. Don't stop."

He kept that pace until I reached down between my legs and pushed against where he was moving in and out of me. My release came on a loud moan and then I could feel his warm release as he pumped into me over and over again, tugging me hard against his body.

We were both speechless for a moment, catching our breath, reveling in the feeling of our bodies still joined together.

His soft laughter and the feeling of him slipping out of me brought me down to earth. "Something funny?"

"I was just thinking that I wanna get down on my knees and worship you," he said as he turned me around. "Do you realize what this is like for me? I never thought of myself as unhappy but this kind of happiness? It just never occurred to me that I could be this happy.

"I look forward to talking to you on the phone every day because I love hearing what you have to say...about anything. I think about you whenever we're apart. When we're together I want to hold onto you, kiss you as much as possible. And this," he said, gesturing between us, "I've never experienced this before. Do you know what you look like when we're together?" I looked away, suddenly shy. "No, really, do you realize how hot you are?" He turned me again as he took some more shampoo and started to lather my hair slowly. "Carolyn, your mouth parts in this incredibly s.e.xy way. Your heads tilts to the side, exposing this part of you," he whispered as he leaned down to kiss my neck. "Your t.i.ts sway when you move against me. Your p.u.s.s.y is heaven. And the look in your eyes...You look at me like no one else has ever made you feel this way before. It makes me feel like a king."

"No one has ever made me feel this way. Only you."

He rinsed my hair and then let his hands roam lovingly over my b.r.e.a.s.t.s and my belly, pulling me in close to him. "I've never felt this way either, baby. It's only you."

Look at him. I know he hates wearing a suit but he looks so d.a.m.n fine.

I love him just as much when he's in his grease splattered tee shirt, jeans and work boots, but the way he looks tonight? I'm ready to haul him home and role-play some alpha-male billionaire tames his smart-mouthed secretary fantasy.

I spy two middle-aged women standing a few feet away from Jeremy. They're whispering, stealing looks at him and then giggling like two teenagers crushing on the hot guy. No, no, no ladies...he's mine.

He is mine-heart and soul and body.

And I am Jeremy's in every way.

A part of him grows inside me now. Everyone describes pregnancy as a miracle but since finding out that we're expecting, I occasionally have to stop and catch my breath. I'm awestruck. It's amazing to think that we made this. Jeremy making love to me created life that grows inside of me.

It's been our secret this past week. I'm only seven weeks along. We decided to wait a few more weeks to tell our family, and then we'll let the rest of the world in on our big news when we're three months along.

Yesterday we heard the heartbeat. Everything sounded perfect, strong and healthy, according to the doctor, but Jeremy and I are being careful. We've held our friends' hands after they've shared their happy news only to suffer a crushing loss a few weeks later. We know it's not uncommon with the first pregnancy, so for now we're keeping this between us two. But it's impossible to keep from dreaming about this little person, and it's nearly impossible to contain this overwhelming desire I have to dance and scream to everyone within earshot that I'm so d.a.m.n happy!

Telling Frank and Sadie will be hard. They've had two miscarriages back to back. My heart breaks for them, even though every loss makes Sadie all that more difficult to be around. I'm guessing that when she hears our news, the few times a year we see them will dwindle down to nothing.

I hurt for Jeremy because this once close friendship has been fading away slowly but surely ever since I came back into the picture. Jeremy doesn't see things that way, though. Life is short in his opinion. Too short to spend time with people who don't have your best interests at heart. I can't say that I miss dodging Sadie's snarky comments or the way she'd regularly bring up Kenzie's name in conversation. Not that she's done that recently, though. Sadie and Kenzie had a major falling out a year ago over something ridiculous. I guess when you put two catty kittens in a cage together it won't be long before they try to claw one another's eyes out.

We have a full life now filled with friends who are true. Tori, Andie, Mateo, Taylor, Mike, Vince and Ava are all regulars at our house on Sat.u.r.day nights. And whenever Vanessa and her partner Marie are able to get away from their business, they have their own personal guestroom in our home. Yes, Vanessa is someone I have come to understand and to love like a sister. Chuck Watters is also a regular guest, and others who have shared our past, like Anna Clarke and her Declan, are regulars around our dinner table.

Having Anna in our lives doesn't bring me pain or grief. No, Anna brings me solace as few other people can. What we all went through, separately but connected, is a tie that will bind us forever.

More than eight years have pa.s.sed since that fateful night. It took me two years to climb out from the darkest depths of despair, and another year to feel like I was truly healing and on the road back. The past few years haven't been without setbacks or self-doubt, but I can say now that fear has no place in my daily life. I'm confident that I can handle whatever comes my way, just like the Carolyn Harris I was at fourteen-the karaoke loving captain of the Science Olympiad team, the steadfast friend, the girl who dreamed big...the Girl Most Likely to Succeed.

I fingered my collar, trying to create some s.p.a.ce as it pressed tight against my neck. It's only for a few hours. For her I can suffer.

I hate wearing a suit. This number is of the custom-fit, high-end variety and it still makes me feel stiff and trapped. Any day of the week you'll find me in jeans, boots and a thermal shirt. My "topcoat" is a flannel b.u.t.ton down. My most important business meetings warrant no more than khakis and a polo shirt. Carolyn bought me this suit for tonight, though, and I wasn't about to complain. Especially after she told me I looked "delicious" and she was looking forward to "unwrapping her prize" later tonight.

And she looked incredible, so I needed to step up my game anyway. I smiled as I watched her work the room in her strapless, silver sequined dress. She wore heels that were sky high, raising her enough so that I could easily make her out in the crush of bodies that surrounded her. She was selling, and these rich old geezers were eager to buy whatever my beautiful girl was peddling. Her hair was up, revealing the soft curve of her neck and the promise of beautiful b.r.e.a.s.t.s hidden beneath the taut fabric of her dress. I was dying to pull her into a closet and claim her.

My desire for her would never let up. I wanted her right now just as much as I did years ago.

"Looks like tonight is going to be another smashing success! Thanks again, Jeremy." I turned to look at my old friend and smiled. "Can you stop ogling your woman for a few minutes so that I can pimp you out in the gallery?"

"Sure, Andie, anything for the cause."

Andie tapped an older woman on her shoulder and then gestured to me. "This is the artist."

"Oh my word," she said, clutching her chest. "You're gorgeous, young man!"

The woman in front of me had to be pushing seventy-five. After the awkward greeting, we had a long conversation about color and perspective-she was a fellow artist and a collector of Chuck Watters' work. She was interested in a piece I'd donated called My Life. Carolyn was the subject-no surprise. She posed for this one just last week.

Every piece I did was special to me but the ones of Carolyn were especially hard to part with. I felt like I was giving away a piece of me. Tonight was no exception; as I stood looking at Carolyn in this piece, discussing details of the work with this woman, I had the strong, familiar urge to lift it off the wall, pack it up and take it back home.

Carolyn would laugh at me, reminding me that our new home had limited storage s.p.a.ce, persuading me with the argument that Briarwood needed the funds more than we needed yet another picture of her.

She didn't understand. Every piece evoked a memory for me-a look, something she had said, her touch.

The woman had gone off to look at other works but I was still standing in front of my Carolyn, lost in thought. Andie broke the spell. "I'm telling you, Jeremy, every year it's the same. Don't these bidding wars tell you something? You should be doing this. All. The. Time."

"Uh, no. I'm not the starving artist type."

"Yeah, you're the stinking rich general contractor type. Sellout," she teased, poking me in my ribs.

I shrugged. Since my partner retired last year, Tri State Electrical was all mine and we were doing well-very well. It was a good feeling. No, it was a great feeling knowing that the twelve-hour work days, the six-day work weeks-that the hard work was paying off.

There were times when the realization that I now had serious money would hit. It wasn't really the money, but the luxury of security. That I could afford the kindly home health aides who attended to my grandfather every day last year before he pa.s.sed, that I could relieve my father of any and all financial concerns, that I was secure in the knowledge that I could provide well for my family-where I come from, that's luxury.

Most recently, it was the day I surprised Carolyn with a plot of land, a beautiful two acre piece of property in Darien, and asked her if she'd like to help me design a house on it. As she paced the lot, yammering on about which side the kitchen should face and what angles would offer the best views, she stopped in her tracks and looked at me. "Who are we designing a house for?"

I just smiled wide as she ran towards me and tackled me to the ground. "For us? For you and me? Are you asking me to move in with you?"

"If you'd let me up, I'd kneel like I'm supposed to, Carolyn. I'm asking you to marry me."

I never got up. She never let me and I figured that lying in the gra.s.s with this beautiful girl's body covering mine was a better way to do it anyway.

"Excuse me, Mr. Rivers. My name is Madeline and this is my husband, Arnold."

"h.e.l.lo."

"I have to tell you, I'm a great admirer of your work."

"We both are," her husband added. "My bride, though," he said, gesturing to his elderly wife, "I think she enjoys getting into catfights with the other bidders over your work every year. It's like an Olympic sport to her."

She playfully hit his chest as she looked back to me. "It's partly true. I find myself scheming to keep everyone away from your pieces so that I can snag them for myself. It never works. I've only managed to get my hands on one, Blue Gingham. And I want to tell you, it gives me such joy. I find myself looking at it almost every day."

"Wow, thank you. I appreciate that. And I remember that piece. It was hard to part with it."

"But this one," she mused as she studied My Life, "this one speaks to me in a different way. I may be imagining it but I'd guess there's a strong connection between you and the subject. I don't know if it would be possible to evoke this level of feeling if there wasn't."

Her eyes lit up as realization set in. "But the subject is the same! She's the same one, the girl from that oversized piece." She hit my chest then, with some force, I might add. "Do you know how crestfallen I was that night?" Her husband was shaking his head, exasperated but amused, and I was just flat-out confused. "I plotted, calculated my bids...only to be outbid repeatedly. And then when I was giddy with the certainty that I was going to win? That I was going to beat out the insipid little tart who'd been outfoxing me at every turn?" She sighed dramatically. "I looked to see them removing the piece from the wall. True Beauty...I still remember the name. Oh, I was heartbroken. I'd wanted it so badly."

I couldn't help but smile. "It hangs in my house. In my bedroom, in fact."

"As it should," she said, resigned. "Please tell me you won't be pulling this one," she pled as she gestured towards this image of Carolyn. In this piece she was looking at me with affection, her two hands resting lovingly across her flat belly-already devoted to the little person growing inside of her.

Just one week before, Carolyn stood in front of the sink, her lips rounded in a surprised O, the stick with the pink plus sign in her hand. I fell to my knees before her and rested my head against my child. I had never felt a rush of pure love so intense in my life. A week later now and I still struggled to put my feelings into words. The picture told the story best. That image of Carolyn and our baby was My Life in every sense.

"This one's for you," I said as I reached up to remove it from the display. "But just so you know...it's not one of a kind."