33. No Bacon No Eggs
thirty-three
No Bacon No Eggs
A s I walk Erika back to her Beetle, I can’t help but think of the puzzle pieces the night has thrown at us.
The ones that fit more perfect than I could imagine, and the few that don’t seem like they belong in this box.
She’s parked way down from the events to give more parking to visitors, I’m sure. She thinks of everything.
Expectant blue eyes look up at me when her Beetle comes into view. I know, sweetheart. I feel it too. The night is coming to an end.
There is an amount of intimacy with her I can’t say I’ve ever felt before. And the most terrifying part is, it’s not just when we’re fucking.
I knew when I met her, there was something about her.
I was immediately attracted, but spend any amount of time with her…
if I’m honest, I knew by that damn meeting I was a goner.
There was something different about her, and something different about the way she made me feel.
The way she makes me care, in general. Not just about her, but about the things around me that used to be important to me.
I’m seeing those things again in full color.
That doesn’t mean it’s right, though. For her, I mean. Blitzen’s not her town. She’s got so much unresolved back in Chicago. And I think she needs to resolve it, so she knows how valuable she is.
Then there’s Blitzen.
I’m the one that chose to live in my hometown, in the town where tragedy struck and took something from me. My best friend is already putting herself out to be here for me, whether we both choose to admit it or not.
I could never ask that of anyone else.
Tonight, even after the talk we had that put some things out in the open, it didn’t deter me. I wanted to follow her to the moon through a small-town fucking Christmas festival.
Then Bob. Fuck. Bob and Georgia. How much of a good sport can you ask two people to be?
They embraced her the same as the town did, but not without cost. I can’t imagine how it feels for them to watch us together and see a woman standing in their daughter’s place.
It’s not like that at all, but that must be how it feels to them.
Only, Erika throws salt, sugar, then ignites the flame with alcohol as she runs up and hugs him. I’m watching Bob’s emotional face, and all I can think is how much I want my dick in this woman.
How fucking selfish can I be?
I keep telling myself that Bob and Georgia took to Erika for who she is and no other reason, that even though it stings, she’s of value to them as a person.
Old ghosts don’t fly around that. I know that’s the truth, but it’s hard not to have that haunting feeling that they’re only embracing her, to be unselfish for me.
They want me to be happy as much as my own parents do. That’s just something I could never choose at someone else’s expense.
“Thank you for the fruitcake vendor, and the toy drive. Pretty eventful night.”
“Thanks for the live band.” We both force a laugh as my hand lands on top of hers, reaching for the driver’s side door.
We stay like that for a long moment. Erika standing inside her door holding onto it.
Me standing outside it looking down at her with my hand covering hers.
It’s a position we both don’t want to be in, nor do we have the willpower to leave.
I don’t know how to do this—how to let something rest or breathe, when you want so badly to possess it in all the right ways.
I’ve never been in this position before, and I think I have to let her decide a few things for herself.
Erika’s mouth parts as if she’s about to say something.
I wait, my eyes flickering to her plump pink lips, desperate to feel them, but she doesn’t move them to speak.
My eyes float back to hers and something changes in those baby blues.
A determined streak I witnessed so many times on our truck rides.
She shoots me a final glare, then slides in the car as quickly as she can, and shuts the door.
I watch in shock as she takes a deep breath, then musters a casual wave as if that’s who we are now or that’s what we’ve resorted to.
“Fuck.” I hit the car as she drives off.
Did we just have our first mini-fight by default, or worse, did I take sex off the table entirely by trying to show her this was more, and now we both go home with nothing?
Nice work, McShotty.