22. Stephen
22
STEPHEN
I don’t remember falling asleep, but I wake up to the sound of leaves rustling in the breeze mixed with a humming breath. It’s not quite a snore, not quite a squeak, but more like a contented, sleepy sigh.
The chill of the crisp early morning air contrasts with the warmth of the sun peeking up over the horizon. Dorothea's warm hand splays across my stomach underneath my clothes. I blink my eyes open and am greeted by the blue and golden glow of dawn. Birds chirp melodiously and when I shift, she snuggles in closer and presses her face into my chest.
Memories of the last few hours play like a film reel in my mind. The kissing, the touching, the intimate joining of our bodies. I rub my hands up and down her back as she snoozes on my chest and brush soft kisses to the top of her head. I need to wake her if we're going to sneak back out of here and through my parent's yard before we get caught, but anything other than snuggling her close feels like a chore.
Even here on the hard ground, where a few hours of sleep have reminded my back that I am not, in fact, eighteen years old anymore. I will likely be popping ibuprofen like candy for the next few days, but I'm reluctant to move. Lying here with my girl, this field feels like the warmest bed I've ever known.
I could devise a way to leave without alerting my parents to buy us some more time, but that doesn't change the fact that I have a dog waiting for me at my apartment, and she needs to be walked.
Dogs: nature's alarm clock.
After another minute of listening to her breathe, I gently shake her.
"No. No no no no no," she groans, wrapping her leg around me and burying her face further into my chest.
"Sweetheart, we have to get going."
"Going bad. Sleep good," she mutters, and I laugh. She's so fucking adorable.
"If you get up now, I'll buy you coffee and a donut from Miss Pattie's and then take you back to my place to sleep in my bed," I sing-song the last bit, gently tickling her sides. She giggles and wriggles, reluctantly rising from my body and stretching under the blanket. She reaches her hands over her head then immediately pulls them back, cupping her mouth and blowing.
"God, it's fucking cold out here," she huffs. I whip my hoodie over my head and hand it over to her. She must be freezing, because she doesn't fight me on it, just pulls the hoodie over her head and balls the sleeves up in her fists, covering her hands.
The sight immediately transports me back to high school and the days she'd refuse to wear a jacket to class because it would 'ruin her outfit', but would inevitably end up taking my jacket before first period and wearing it for the rest of the day. I would hem and haw, but I never cared. She always looked so adorable and even then, I lived to make her happy.
Now, with the Hudson Family Construction logo adorning her chest, I'm starting to get that whole thing where athletes want to see their partners in their jerseys. My name on Dorothea's body? It does something to me. Awakens something primal and feral deep within me. Makes me want to claim her and never let her go. I stand and lean over, hooking her under her arms and lifting her to her feet. She sways sleepily as I gather the blankets and shove them haphazardly back into the bag. When I'm finished, I offer her my arm, and she takes it. Joined at the elbows, we make our way to the tree line.
As I guide her through the brush, I remind her that we have to be extra quiet as we cross through my parent's yard.
"If we wake them up, we'll never hear the end of it," I say as I hold back a branch so she can cross through.
"They're not morning people anymore?" she asks.
"No, they are. I mean if they catch us together, we're looking at the third-degree for the rest of our lives, so shhhh," I press my finger to her lips, and gives it the sweetest kiss. It's the smallest action, but it's enough to make me shiver. I'm tempted to throw her down and take her again, but when she looks to her right and waves, my lust is shot down with an arrow.
"Looks like we're in for the third-degree after all," she mutters out of the side of her mouth as she wiggles her fingers. I look over and sure enough, right there on the back porch are my parents, waving back at us.
And my dog.
And my sister.
And my sister's best friend, Ivy.
At this rate, my night with Dorothea is bound to be front page news in the Fox Hole Gazette.
I give her hand an apologetic squeeze.
"I owe you so much more than coffee and a donut," I say. I whistle, and Daisy May comes bouncing across the yard to meet us.
"Orgasms, Stephen. You owe me so many more orgasms."
And with that, she takes the first steps forward, boldly going where no woman except for her has gone before, right up to the Hudson firing squad.
"Dottie Lynn Hart, as I live and breathe," Dad says from his chair, sipping his Big Gulp-sized mug of black coffee.
"My, my, my," Mom says, standing and holding out her arms. Dorothea goes right into them, and Mom swallows my girl up in the biggest hug I've ever seen. Delilah is next, tapping Mom's shoulder and cutting in on the hug. Dorothea squeezes my sister tight, and then the two of them pull back, holding each other's faces in that weird way that women do when they're greeting an old friend.
"What? No love for me?” Ivy asks from the side, and the girls let her in on the hug. They start to jump in a circle and squeal while I awkwardly tuck my hands into my pockets.
"What, uh, what are you all doing up so early?" I ask, directing my question to Dad. He seems like the safest option of them all.
"Better question, what were you doing sneaking around in my backyard at all hours of the night like some wayward teenager?" he asks, tapping his foot on the ground. I blush crimson, ready to deny and defend, until I remember I'm twenty-eight years old and allowed to whatever I want at any time of night, and he can't ground me.
At least, I think he can't ground me.
"Seriously, what is going on?" I push. "And how the hell did my pup get here?" As if on cue, Daisy May trots past me and joins the circle of hugging and squeaking women with a bark.
"Fabulous inventions, security cameras," Mom muses pointing a finger to the corner of the pergola, where a small white camera is docked. "This thing alerted us to some suspicious activity sometime around midnight. I thought we were being burglarized, but lo and behold, it was just my grown child and his best friend. If it wasn't for your beard, I would have thought I time traveled right back to when you were sixteen."
"So naturally, Mom called me to gossip about you two and Ivy and I went to your place to grab Daisy May so we could ambush you on your walk of shame," Delilah says, as she offers a mug up to Dorothea. She takes the mug and sips, shivering when the coffee hits her. I swallow hard, remembering how she shivered as she rode me into oblivion just a few hours ago.
"And now that we're all together, let's catch up. It's been too long since we've seen you, Dottie girl," Dad says with a groan as he pushes himself out of his chair. He wraps an arm around her shoulder and leads her through the back door into the kitchen, Mom following behind them. With Dorothea and our parents out of sight, Delilah and Ivy turn their attentions to me.
"You dirty, dirty pervert," Ivy says, accentuating each word with a smack to my chest. "Were you ravishing that girl under the light of the full moon like some rabid caveman?"
"Ew, Vee, stop. Don't talk about my baby brother ravishing anyone," Delilah scrunches her nose up in disgust and I roll my eyes.
"I'm twenty-eight, Delilah. I'm not your baby brother."
"I changed your diapers. You're always going to be my baby brother. "
"And Ivy, there was no ravishing," I lie. There was ravishing, alright, but if I'm being honest? Dorothea was the one ravishing me. A tingle works its way up my spine as I remember the way she took control, fucking my face and taking her pleasure from me.
"Oh my god, Lilah, look, your baby brother is having sex flashbacks," Ivy coos, placing one hand on her chest and the other on my cheek. I swat her away as Delilah turns and gags.
"Will you two stop? Jesus, it's bad enough you all had to stand here waiting like a bunch of creeps, you don't have to verbally torture me while you're at it. I slept on the ground last night and my back hurts. I just wanted to eat donuts with Dorothea, and you ruined it."
"I didn't ruin anything!" Ivy says.
"Neither did I!" Delilah pipes up. "Mom is the one who called me and wouldn't leave me alone until I got your dog and came over. You're welcome, by the way. Daisy May is fed, walked, and pooped. You'll be getting my bill."
I roll my eyes at them, but I have to give in. If nothing else, I'm thankful that I don't have to take Daisy May for a walk this morning. Delilah and Ivy did me a solid, there.
"C'mon, you two mischief-makers. We have a guest, I bet Mom has already started on her famous ham and cheese crêpes." I throw and arm over each of their shoulders and the three of us and Daisy May head into the house. Sure enough, Mom is spooning batter on to a flat pan while Dads sit next to Dorothea at the table, pouring more coffee into her mug and gesticulating wildly. My girl listens intently to whatever story he's telling, her chin in her palm and a gorgeous smile plastered on her face.
Later, when we're both stuffed with a thousand and a half of Mom's crêpes and all the coffee and sweet tea we could drink, Dorothea agrees to walk with me and Daisy May back to my apartment. I'll get my truck later; right now I just want to soak up as much time as this woman is willing to give me.
Hand in hand, we stroll down my parent's street and into town. It's still stupid early, so there aren't many people out on the streets. Just a few joggers and some Bitties who I catch throwing dirty looks our way. If Dorothea notices, she doesn't say anything. I watch her as we walk, and it's fascinating, the way she seems to take in everything at once. She takes pictures with her phone of the most random things. Single flowers, falling leaves. Back at my parent's house, I caught her taking a video of Delilah pouring creamer into Ivy's coffee cup. I want to ask her why she documents anything, but I’m afraid her answer will devastate me.
I know she's leaving. I know that. But if I ask her why she takes pictures and she says it's so she has something to remember this all by, I don't think my heart can take it.
"Hey," I say as she snaps a photo of a chalk drawing on the sidewalk right outside of my apartment. "Let's take a picture together."
"You want to take a selfie with me?" she asks, lifting one brow at me.
"Sure. The last pictures we have together are those stiff-as-a-board prom pictures. I want a picture of us now." I lean down and put my chin on her shoulder, and she turns her phone to the front-facing camera.
"Say cheese!" she says, and I do, grinning like a fool as she clicks away. I press a kiss to her cheek and linger for a moment, inhaling the scent of her skin. When we break apart, I ask her to send them to me.
"You gonna set one of these as your lock screen?" she teases as she taps away. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out, immediately saving the picture with the kiss as my background.
"Of course," I say, showing her my screen. "I want to remember how fucking hot you look in my hoodie every time I look at my phone."
She sticks out her tongue and strikes a pose, and I hook my arm around her waist and pull her into a hug.
"Hey Stephen?"
"Hey Dorothea."
"Truth or dare?" she asks, pulling away and looking up to me. Daisy May humphs and lays down at our feet .
"Truth," I answer, and her eyelids fall into inquisitive slits.
"Last night, when you said it had been a while for you… how long are we talking?"
I suck a breath in between my teeth, debating how honest I want to be here. But I know exactly what she's asking, so I'm going to go for the full truth.
"Uhh… how long ago was prom night?" I ask, blushing.
"You haven't… with anyone… since-"
"Well, I haven't been a monk," I interrupt her stuttering. "But yeah, I haven't-“ god I hate that I'm a grown man about to use this phrase. “I haven't gone all the way with anyone since you. There were a few women, there was intimacy, but it never felt right. There was always something holding me back from taking that step."
She stares up at me, her bottom lip trembling.
"Last night was the first time for me, too. It was the same for me. There were men, but I couldn’t ever get myself to go there with them. None of them were you," she whispers, and my stomach does a flip. I didn't know how good that would feel to hear. Not in a shame-y kind of way. I haven't been purposefully waiting around with my dick tucked safely away until Dorothea came back and asked for it. I never expected her not to have moved on, either.
But something about this, knowing that the kind of sex we had last night, the kind of sex we had for the first time together all those years ago is something that only she and I share? That feels fucking good. I have to kiss her. I can't help it. I need her mouth on mine, eyes of the Bitties be damned. I swoop down and claim her lips, tasting her sweetness.
"Sweetheart, would you like to come upstairs and go all the way with me again?" I murmur against her lips.
She nods, and for a little while longer, this thing that we share is just ours.