“A vibrator?” he asked, and though I couldn’t see the features of his face, I most definitely heard the waggle of his eyebrows. Crap. How could he tell?
“I have like superhuman vision,” he answered, seeming to read my thoughts. “Plus, its shape is fairly recognizable. Damn, I can’t believe you were going to beat me with a fake cock.”
“Okay, Wes.”
“I mean really, what could you do with that? Vibrate me into submission?” He was laughing now.
“Shut up, Wes. I didn’t know who or what was out here. I grabbed what was closest.”
I didn’t know why I was even explaining myself. By his obnoxious giggling, it was clear nothing would make this any less hysterical for him.
“And that was closest?” He stopped suddenly. “Oh,” he said curling the end of the word.
“What?” I asked still attempting to see him through a squint.
“You were…” He cleared his throat and became extra fidgety. “You were, um…busy?”
“What?” Oh God, he thought I was using it? “No! Wes,” I whined out the end of his name. “I was sleeping. Now, what do you want?” Seriously, what was worse than having your dream guy walk out on your kiss? Having him find you waving a vibrator in the night. My life sucked.
“Hang on. Give me a minute,” Wes said in a strained voice. I sighed and leaned against the window frame. I watched him there from my window, in the dark, appearing nothing less than gorgeous in the moonlight, and felt a sense of nervous excitement fluttering in me. He was here for me. Why was he here?
After a few seconds, Wes cleared his throat again. “Okay, okay. I’m ready.”
“What is it, Wes?” I asked afraid to hear the answer.
“Can you meet me at the front door?” he asked.
“Okay,” I said and closed the window all the while running the possible reasons for his visit through my mind. I need the keys to SYC. Have you seen my wallet? Did you shut the lights off?
I crossed my arms over my chest, remembering that I was in my pajamas, which consisted of a thin white T-shirt and no bra. At the door, I tugged my boxers down a little further trying to make them longer than crotch length. Then I unlocked the door and opened it to see Wes standing on the porch.
He was gorgeous. He had on a black hoodie, and his hair was mussed all over his head. His eyes were wide and focused. The look sent a chill down my back. His chest heaved slightly from under his sweatshirt, and I caught the faintest flare of his nostrils.
I opened my mouth to question his being here again when he answered first.
“I forgot something,” he said. Before I could register what was happening, Wes pressed against me in the doorway, cupping my face in his hands with his lips against my lips.
I lifted my hand to his face. I touched his cheek and felt the prickle of his beard against my fingertips. My hand slid down his face and stopped at the square corner of his jaw. It was real. He was real. This kiss. This kiss was real.
I pressed my lips more firmly into his in a whimper of relief. Wes pressed back, pushing my mouth open with his effortlessly and sliding his tongue into my mouth. He tasted like the sweetest peppermint. I lifted my arms to Wes’ chest and fisted his hoodie in my hands.
He kissed me more passionately than any guy had ever kissed me in my life. The tender way he held my face in his hands was no match to the way his lips coveted my own. Our tongues swirled, brushing and stroking within the embrace of our lips. Nothing had ever felt like this. Nothing would ever compare to Wes kissing me for the first time, and nothing could have prepared me for the way this kiss just grounded my soul and uprooted my world.
Wes pulled away from me softly, placing an extra peck on my swollen lips. I blinked my eyes open with his hoodie still bunched into my hands and caught the softest sweetest smile on his face. I relaxed my hold on him and smiled back. I stood there.
“Goodnight, Capri,” he said quietly and walked away. I stood there.
I heard the rumble of his engine come to life and watched the hedges light up under his headlights, and I stood there.
“C! Go inside and lock the door, baby,” he hollered at me. I nodded my head, went inside, locked the door, and I stood there.
Drum Solo.
I pulled my lips into my teeth and pounded out the beat with my pencil in one fist, and my paper towel in the other.
“Marilyn.” I dropped the pencil onto the floor.
“Damn, Bluebell. You messed up my flow.” I leaned down still seated on the stool and picked the pencil off the floor.
“What flow? The only flow I’ve seen from you is once a month when you turn into a little bitch.” Blue opened a drawer in the office desk and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. When the old man didn’t show at the shop the other day, we all were more than worried. I showed up at his place to find him asleep. The geezer had overslept.
“That wounds me. Deep in my heart,” I said wincing with one hand over my chest.
“See. Chick.” He motioned to me holding a cig in his hand.
Louie Blue became my newest neighbor on my thirteenth birthday. That day was just as forgettable as it was memorable. I sat around outside of the house all day feeling out the new digs but not much else.
Blue rolled up on his Harley at around midnight. He climbed off the bike and stared at me. I stared at him. Then he stared some more. Finally, he nodded and asked if I was new to the place. I nodded back and tossed a rock out into the gravel driveway. He asked how long I’d be staying, and I shrugged. There was no certain answer for that. Then he popped a cigarette into his mouth. I watched his shoulders sag and thought it looked nice. Thought I’d have to try that later. Then he told me to meet him in his garage the next day after school.
I ran straight to Blue’s carport the next day as soon as the bus dropped me off. He pointed to an old rusted car taking up most of the space and told me if I helped him fix it up, I could have it when I turned sixteen. I was pissed. It was crap. That day though, Blue rescued me. He gave me a purpose and taught me how to take care of myself. I would never be able to thank him enough.
“What are you up to, old man?” I asked sliding the yellow pencil back into the case with the other colors.
“Heading out soon,” Blue mumbled around the cigarette that dangled from his mouth. “You should, too.”
“Yeah.” I nodded. Blue knew I wouldn’t go home until he made me.
He pulled the cigarette back out and nodded toward the desk. “Whatcha workin’ on over there?”
“Just messin’ around,” I said and shifted in the chair, trying to hide the sketch behind me.
“Messin’ around, my ass,” he mumbled and walked up to me bringing his thick tobacco scent with him. I relished the smell on a long inhale. I’d quit smoking a few years ago, but, unfortunately, I slipped up every now and again when I was really stressed. Right now, that rich fuckin’ sultry smell was seducing the hell outta me.
“You’re shittin’ me,” Blue mumbled peeking over my shoulder. “Move outta the way, kid.” He shoved my shoulder moving me himself and picked up the drawing from the desk. “Ya turned her into a fuckin’ kindygarten project.”
“I colored it in ol’ man. No big deal.” I grabbed the mermaid sketch from his hands and balled it up in my fist before tossing it into the trashcan.
“You been drawing that same damn grayscale sketch since I’ve known ya, Marilyn,” I smiled at the nickname he’d called me since he found out my last name was Monroe, “and probably been carryin’ that picture of it in yer pocket even longer. If I knew any better, I’d say you’ve gone and met yourself a girl.” He chuckled to himself before turning to walk away.
“I’ve met lots of girls, Blue,” I said looking at the distorted aquamarine tail out of the corner of my eye.