I like her. A lot. #7
That was a good time. A crazy, insane experience for me. It was sexy and hot, and I got to rub Delane’s breast. She made me cum. It was great.
Yet as we sink into the couch together, all I feel is crushing, bruising disappointment.
I don’t want to learn how to enjoy my body without embarrassment if it means I’m going to ultimately enjoy it and sex with someone else.
“What’s the matter?” she asks as I flip on the TV mindlessly, my focus scattered like ashes.
Smiling, I remember something I’d been saving for her.
Something I knew I wanted to give to her once we made this arrangement, but only now does it feel right.
I hold up a finger, indicating for her to wait.
When I return with a very worn Five Star notebook in my hands, the cover only held on by copious amounts of masking tape; she looks confused.
I hand it to her, and time slows as her palm skates across the tattered surface, as if she knows what this means before she even knows what it is. But I believe that. I believe Delane and I are linked that way.
“Open it,” I urge, and she does. I watch her as she carefully turns pages, making sure to do it slowly so that none of the worn paper tears.
The page where my dad had made a small sketch when I was a teenager appears, and she stops on it. She points to the pencil diagram covered in clear tape.
“This isn’t your writing,” she notes, perceptive as ever.
That brings some of the warmth back to my heart.
I know I’m being a baby–that we agreed to this tradeoff to prepare me for a serious relationship and her for her career–but I guess I always hoped it would end with us together.
Her comment tonight helps me see how one-sided my hope is.
“My dad drew that.” I scratch the side of my jaw through the slight discomfort of my honesty.
I never like talking about my dad. Or my mom.
Or my life growing up. It never leaves me feeling anything but bad.
With Delane, though, I will. Sharing with her feels like whispering secrets in the dark to my closest best friend. Safe. She feels safe.
“I think I told you before, but working on engines was one thing I was allowed to do. My dad took an interest in me taking an interest in cars, so he let me keep this notebook for what I was learning.”
She runs her hand over the page, eyes sparkling. “So this is like your personal The Mechanics Bible,” she breathes.
I nod and shrug a little. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Thanks for letting me look through it,” she says, amazement in her tone as she carefully turns one page to the next. Her phone goes off as soon as she gets lost in the pages. She scrambles to get it and sighs when she realizes it's just an alarm she set.
“It’s late,” she smiles, hiding her hands in the sleeves of the oversized hoodie. “I better go.”
I nod, the ache in my chest nearly unbearable. I don’t want her to go. I don’t want her to make me confident for someone else. With a smile I don’t mean, I say, “tomorrow morning, come to Kings a little early. We’ll run diagnostics on your car. We’ll go through the repair codes.”
She smiles, toeing into her boots. Reaching for her purse, she tugs it up her shoulder and takes two steps toward the door. With her hand resting on the knob, she smiles. “Tell Salsa I said goodbye.”
I remember right then that she let herself in with my key. “Do you have my key?” I ask, not wanting it back. Not really. I’d love for Delane to come and go here as she pleases. But she has a home. And this isn’t it. The key was just to make tonight easy, and I have to lock my own door tomorrow.
She looks as sad as I feel, but only for a second. Maybe she’s just glad I reminded her. “On the counter.”
“I’ll tell Salsa you said bye.”
Pulling open the door, I realize she didn’t take my notebook. “Delane,” I say, stopping her on the threshold. Scooping it from the couch, I walk it to her, holding it out. “You forgot this.”
The way the porch light casts a yellow glow across her mouth is tantalizing. Her breath hangs before her in a white cloud as she stares at me quizzically. “What?”
I push it into her hands, and her fingers close around the spiral spine. “It’s yours now. I don’t need it anymore.”
She blinks up at me, eyes misty from the harsh winter air nipping away at them. “But this is… like… years of your life of learning.” She swallows. “What if you have a son one day? Don’t you… wouldn’t you rather it go to him?”
“I might have a son.” I swallow hard at that thought, knowing the many steps that have to take place before the journey there.
Love, a wife, a home. Right now, I only have the first one, and it’s a one-way street.
“But I don’t want to hang onto it for a what-if.
You take it. Add to it, do whatever. I know you’ll use it.
And it would make me happy to think I’m helping, even when you’ve moved on from Wrench Kings. ”
Her face falters. “Why would I move on from Kings?” Wind whips around her and inside the open door, sending a chill up my back.
“After you apprentice, you may want to go somewhere bigger or better.”
Our eyes flit back and forth as our breath hangs between us in the frigid evening air. “I never want to leave Oakcreek. Like, ever.”
I didn’t know that about Delane. She brings the notebook to her chest, trapped by her arms.
“Text me when you get home so I know you made it safely,” I say.
She nods. “Goodnight, Miller.” She looks down at the notebook pressed to her breasts. “Thank you. ”
“Goodnight, Laney.”
I slide the chain on the door as soon as it’s closed, then twist the deadbolt. Instead of being sad that she’s sticking to our arrangement, I should be happy.
Stalking down the hall and from the doorway, I stare at the crumpled sheets and sticky scene.
We had fun tonight. I got parts of Delane I’d never had before.
So for that, I’m grateful. With unchanged sheets, I crawl into bed, find her scent and inhale, her smile the last thing on my mind before I crash.