30. Too Early to Tell
thirty
Too Early to Tell
M y eyes blinking open to the crackle of that fireplace is a memory I cannot shake.
The early morning sun turned a light bulb onto our space—yet the smell of cinnamon, and cedar still lingered, the fire, him .
The smell of him was all over me. It still is—I drive away in my Bug from town square.
It’s quiet out this morning and no one seems to be up buzzing around.
My car cruelly takes it’s time to heat up, but I’m not cold.
I blow out a calming breath, so unnerved I want to shout at the top of my lungs.
Wonder if the rated R version of Charles Dickon’s The Christmas Carol isn’t Scrooge running through town shouting, ‘Merry Christmas’ and giving away turkeys to Tiny Tim because he just spent the night with Kourt McClain.
Okay, that’s wrong, and got creepy somewhere in the middle. Also, it would be rated X, not R if it mimicked anything we did—any one of the times we did it.
What happened back there? To me? To him? To us?
Is there an us now?
Everyone in their right mind wonders what’s next after great sex. Everyone except Archer, who dictates what’s next.
But what happens after that kind of sex? The life changing, mind-blowing, nothing before this compares…
I’m driving home sore—can barely walk sore, and my core is still throbbing from riding him. I can’t say what came over me in his arms, under him, on top of him, in the shower and even on the tiled bathroom floor, but it was a thirst impossible to quench.
The only uncomfortable moment of that night was waking up and getting dressed because I knew it had to end. The question is… what happens now?
I’ve got a Christmas festival to pull off and I don’t exactly live here. What about after Christmas?
Maybe nothing.
Maybe nothing happens now, and I need to be a sane person and calm down. I need to take a moment to consider that although this may have been the greatest sex of my life, it could be the norm for Kourt.
He could simply be that great at it.
I also need to take into consideration the sheer amount of condoms that bachelor had, and all the places he had them stuffed and stored around his home for convenience. I would never safe sex-shame him, if that’s even a thing, but it does let one know that he is— active?
Again, all of this could be the norm for him, and that doesn’t make him a bad guy, or even an Archer. It would just mean it all felt a little different to him than it did for me.
My brows pinch together and my stomach sinks, but then it flips when I see his face above mine and feel his arms around me, replaying last night.
It scares me how much I trust Kourt. His eyes on my body giving away how much I turn him on. His hands on my skin the way no other has ever touched me… and what it does to me.
That’s just it. I don’t trust myself with Kourt. I’m not myself with him. I’m better. I have never responded to anyone this way.
My tape deck clicks as I turn up the road leading toward my street.
Oh, now you come alive. I’d just like to see you try it.
Soft music bellows its way into my Beetle as familiar strings pick up to a melody I recognize from my dream—No. It’s from last night— I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas plays, and my heart beats like an arrhythmia in my stomach and through my head.
Not today mixtape.
I press every old button until the thing stops.
Helen. I need Helen.
Helen suspected a date, us being attracted and getting together, but this? Did she expect this ?
Maybe Josie left instructions on what her great niece should do, should she stumble into the arms of Blitzen’s acclaimed basketball coach and not want to leave them. All the while the holiday mixtape in her vintage Bug seconds that emotion.
Helen takes a sip of her cold brew with her ungloved hand. The other black velvet glove is on the counter next to her keys. She’s been pacing in my kitchen for the last twenty minutes and was parked in the driveway when I arrived.
“Helen?”
“Erika, I’ve learned not to jump to conclusions with you and my best friend.
Obviously, after that display at last night’s game, and with you appearing this morning in your sweater dress of shame, it’s safe to assume that you did not sleep at home or Ellis’ last night.
Am I correct in assuming you and Kourt—”
“Like rabbits.”
“Oh. My. God. This is worse than I thought.”
“Much worse. I’m so sore, I can’t stand up straight. He’s so—”
“Don’t. Stop. Uh-uh. No more.” Helen throws her arms up in warning.
“I mean Archer used to say sex was just the combined experiences of two people trying to one up each other. Showing off what they learned from previous partners, as if that was the prerequisite to being a contender in bed.”
“Wait. Was it not that?” Helen feigns confusion.
“You know, I have a friend you should meet.” Now I’m the one pacing the kitchen.
“I’m kidding.” Helen half-smiles. “Continue.”
“And no. It wasn’t like that with Kourt.
I get that I don’t have as much experience as Archer, and probably not as much as Kourt.
But… he is the experience. It’s all-consuming with him.
My mind doesn’t wander to what my body looks like in that position, or where to put my hands.
It’s just happening all at once and real from a million tiny sensations that burst—” I pause to look up at Helen who’s now sitting on a bar stool with her elbows on the counter and her fists under her chin.
She’s chewed the top of her cold brew straw to pieces.
“Sorry. Too much?”
“Yes. Absolutely, but I’m used to your Great Aunt Josie.”
“Ahh! Helen!”
“Gotcha. Now we both have a bad taste in our mouths.” She hops off the stool and walks over to me. “Look. I just wanted validation that my hunch was correct. However, you seem very upset, and I must say, I’m not clear on what exactly the problem is.”
“It could be me, Helen. I’ve had so little experience with great sex, and I’ve never had the physical and the emotional match up like this. It could be that it was the ultimate experience for me, and one of a number of experiences for your best friend.”
“Are you trying to suggest that Kourt is good in bed and has this experience every time, regardless of who he’s with?”
“Well… yeah, maybe.”
“Okay, Erika. At risk of sounding jaded, or as if I have never experienced this incredible sex you speak of with anyone—it has been a while, mind you… since it was that good—but I say this to inform you, it’s not like that all the time.
At least not for the people who haven’t gotten it right or landed on Mr. Right. ”
“Really?”
“Yes. Really.”
“What about the condoms?”
“Oh, God! Tell me you used one.”
“Well, more than one. Never mind. My point is, there are many at his house. A seemingly endless supply in—”
“In every corner of every drawer of every room?”
“Yes!”
“Darling.” Helen sits me down on the stool she rose from. “Let me explain something to you about Kourt, and maybe men or bachelors in general. Especially his kind of a bachelor…”
“What’s his kind?”
“Umm. Tall, handsome, hot body, basketball coach who can still play and works out, kind at heart under his cocky jackass- ery… Those elements alone make a single man a catch in most cases. In a small town where the population of women by far surpass that of men, it makes him a damn good catch. Add the fact that his wife died making him the youngest widower Blitzen has seen in three decades, and a reputation for being the un-gettable get—that makes him the catch. Not just in Blitzen, sweetheart. Women spanning at least five surrounding counties believe they are the one who can fix this man. I have friends that have come to visit from the city who—”
“Okay. I got it. So I am right about the condoms.”
“No. The condoms are not to sleep with said women across Blitzen, five counties, and the greater Tri-state area. They are more control than protection. Yes… they literally serve as protection, such as in your case last night. But, for him as the most sought-after bachelor for miles, they represent control.”
“I see. He’s sending them a message, loud and clear,” I interject. My voice sounds like Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh.
“Women have thrown themselves at him for the last three years. I watched a preacher’s wife serve up her daughter at the funeral. He’s like catnip in Blitzen. It’s flattering as can be, but it also gets old super-fast. These women make it easy for Kourt to hide behind a no relationship rule or—”
“He has a no relationship rule?”
“Damn it. No. Not really, he doesn’t. He does for them.
For the ones he doesn’t want. Some of them are suffocating.
The condoms in every corner are his barrier in a different kind of way.
He’s letting them know he’s not letting anyone, or anything, slip past him.
I’m not telling you this so you think he’s a bad guy.
The takeaway is that he’s a good one. And I really shouldn’t be telling you anything.
This is between you two. You have to know though, that he’s never spent this much time with anyone—ever, Erika.
” Helen grabs her glove and keys and heads to the door.
“Just don’t break his heart. Life already did that once. ”
“Me?” As if I’m the one with that power.
Her cell pings.
“Duty calls.”