Chapter 5 Kieren
KIEREN
My head’s still spinning when I get home that afternoon. Closing the apartment door behind me, I lean against the cool wood, trying to get my thoughts in order.
After months of looking for Jodie, she turns up in my office.
I don’t know where she’s been hiding. I’ve scoured every bar on the Sunset Coast. And just like that, she turns up in my office.
She looked like I remembered her, thick hair swept off her face in a messy ponytail. I remember what it felt like to have that hair wrapped around my fist as I kissed her swollen lips.
The memory of Jodie’s lips makes my dick twitch in my pants.
She was nervous in the bedroom, like a shy rabbit that I had to coax out of hiding, caressing her softly until she came apart under my touch, her body quivering against mine.
And when I entered her, it was pure bliss, her pussy so tight and hungry, her moans penetrating my nerve endings until I exploded underneath her, both of us climaxing too soon.
I thought we’d have time to make love again. I thought there’d be more opportunities to explore her body, to make her whine with pleasure the way she had when I first touched her.
But in the morning, Jodie was gone, and I was deployed the next day. There was no way to reach her, no chance to tell her how I felt.
Not that it matters if what she said in the kitchen is true.
She said it was just a fling, but I don’t believe her. I felt the way her pulse jumped when I took her hands. I saw her pupils dilate.
She said it didn’t mean anything to her. She’s in denial. I’ll make it mean something to her. I’ll make it mean everything to her.
If Jodie just gives me one more chance, I’ll prove to her what my heart already knows—we’re meant to be together.
My throat is parched, and the hangover has subsided to a dull emptiness.
On autopilot, I open the fridge and reach for a beer. This is what I do. When the drink wears off and the emptiness slides in, I reach for a drink.
I pop open the bottle to a cold beer and bring it to my lips.
Then I remember Jodie’s face in the kitchen, her critical look as she took in my disheveled appearance, the way she stepped away from me when I went toward her.
I’m not the man she met eighteen months ago. Back then I was holding back my demons by frequenting bars. I met her on a Friday night, and I didn’t drink again until I realized she’d left on Sunday.
If I’m going to prove to Jodie that I’m her man, then I need to clean myself up. I need to face my demons and get off the booze.
I take the beer bottle from my lips. The bitter smell is tempting, but not as tempting as being in the arms of Jodie.
Upending the bottle, I tip the contents down the sink. The stench of sour beer fills the kitchen and I nearly retch. The glugging noise feels like my insides are draining away.
I grab the other bottles from my fridge and drain those too. Then I take the half-finished bottle of bourbon from the cupboard and pour that after the beer.
It fizzes in the sink and gurgles down the drain, adding a sharp alcohol stench to my kitchen.
“Time to get some fresh air.”
I change into my jogging shorts and slip on my running shoes. Dropping the empty bottles in my over-flowing recycling bin, I head out for my first jog in months.
With fresh air in my lungs and my head clearing, I breathe deeply, feeling better with every step, feeling more alive.
If Jodie won’t take me as I am, then I’ll be a better man. I’ll be the type of man she can be proud of. The type of man she deserves.