Chapter 3
Did you get lost?
Ama stared at the text from Arkyn. She hadn’t gotten lost on the way to meet him at the sushi restaurant. She’d forgotten about it completely and had driven home instead.
This was why she shouldn’t date. Well, thiswas one reason why she shouldn’t date. Not that lunch with Arkyn would have been a date. More like repayment for her expertise in picking out kitten accoutrement. She couldn’t take the credit for that; Astra had been very clear in what she wanted.
The hardest part had been convincing Arkyn his kitten wanted to be called Astra, and that she reeeaaallllly wanted the scratch post shaped like a mushroom. Although the convincing hadn’t been nearly as hard as his muscles. They’d flexed deliciously when he’d lifted the cat tower and litter and food into the bed of his truck, his shirt lifting to offer a peak at his similarly hard abs and the fun trail that ducked under his waistband.
Yeah, he was utterly yummy.
Her stomach growled. Maybe he wasn’t so yummy as she was simply hungry. Better test that theory.
As was her habit, Ama stripped off her clothing as she padded through her small apartment on the way to the kitchen. She grabbed a bowl and filled it with milk. Then rifled through her cabinets for the cereal. Pretty sure she’d put it next to the cream of mushroom soup. Wait, no, it was by the chocolate chips. She poured the flakes into the milk and dunked them like they’d offended her before shoveling them into her mouth while she palmed the bowl and leaned over the sink to eat. Then she poured in more flakes.
Her phone chimed with a text. Who could that be?
She returned to her living room to retrieve her phone from her pocket. No, from her shirt. No, she’d put it on her plant stand.
Ooooh! Arkyn had texted her. Wonder what he wants.
Do you need me to come get you?
She’d forgotten to respond to his first text. How could she explain she was at home already eating?
Sorry. I forgot. Came home instead.
Three circles popped up. She watched them for several nervous breaths. Then flinched as he responded.
How much of a nap did you get at the truck stop?
A couple hours.
When was the last time you ate?
Why was he being so random?
A minute ago.
Before then?
Um at some point.
What are you eating now?
Cereal.
The three dots appeared again and hovered. Surely he wasn’t finished with the interrogation. Her mother would have thrown her hands up in frustration by this point. Was he also done with her?
How about a rain check on the sushi? And the milkshake?
He… he still wanted to see her? That like never happened. But did she want to see him? That would require making conversation. A skill she wasn’t particularly skilled at, although it was somehow easier to talk with Arkyn than with most adults. Case in point: all the words she’d spoken to him already today. Or maybe that was just the kitten influence.
He texted before she could respond.
I’ll bring Astra.
Gah! He already knew her kryptonite. How could she decline the offer of a furry fuzzball fix?
Sold!
*happy emoji* Enjoy your cereal and get some sleep. We’ll talk later.
Ama stood in her living room, phone dangling from her hand, waffling between elation and confusion. He still wanted to see her. And she wanted to see him in return, even though that meant putting on pants and talking. Maybe she should have declined his offer. After all, any possible relationship with her was doomed. Very few women could stand her and most men quickly washed their hands of her particular brand of crazy. Not sure why. She never caused drama, and she was always nice. She wasn’t demanding and didn’t resent them spending time with their bros or watching sports. She was just… different.
Different didn’t make her bad, right?
Not that she could change, if it did. She’d tried her whole life to be more like the rest of society. To be more like her sister. Yet no amount of life hacks, habit suggestions, journals, lists, or even medications had ever helped. Some had even made it worse. So, she’d learned to simply be okay with her special form of weird.
Too bad others couldn’t also be okay with it.
She walked back to her cereal, now too soggy to eat. If she’d wanted wet cardboard, she would have put that in her milk instead. She dumped the bowl in the sink, put the milk away, grabbed a toaster pastry, and walked to the bathroom to turn on the shower. She nibbled the crusty edge while waiting for the water to warm, and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her makeup had merged into dark blotches on her face. Her spiked hair had lost all its vigor. And the temporary tattoos across her chest had rubbed off in some spots. Real tattoos wouldn’t do that, but she changed her mind too often to put anything permanent on her skin; the washable markers at daycare lasted almost too long for her comfort.
She scrubbed away her makeup, tattoos, and doubts, reaching through the shower curtain to pinch off bites of her toaster treat with wet fingers. When she was finally clean, she towel-dried and burrowed under her bed covers. Nothing better than a decadent afternoon nap.
Only, she couldn’t sleep.
Sleep often eluded her. Slipping into that mental darkness bent her thoughts inward, and the transition was terrifying. What if her own unstructured mind betrayed her? What if all her dreams of floating in dark nothingness stopped being mere dreams? Would she cease to exist? Was death what the darkness meant? If she died, would she float—alone and neglected—for all eternity?
She turned on her white noise app. Then tossed and turned. Switched to green noise. Then pink, then gray, and on through the rest of the colors. No luck. Her body was exhausted from lack of sleep and her hours dancing at the club. But her brain, as scattered as it normally was, couldn’t seem to calm. She searched YouTube for yoga hang drum music, but it made her tense. Then coral reef relaxing music, but that made her need to pee. Then deep space ambient meditation music, but all that did was make her skin crawl.
So she threw off the smothering blankets to masturbate. A good orgasm was a sure-fire cure for her insomnia and the only proven way to lend her some temporary focus. Unfortunately, she couldn’t masturbate every time she was scatterbrained. Firstly, she’d be masturbating 24-7 and get absolutely nothing accomplished. B) Society had some pretty rigid moral codes about public nudity and sex. Sadly, the arousal-killing sterility of public bathrooms proved prohibitive to her favorite coping technique. And 4) more people could benefit from that stress relief.
As her fingers rubbed and circled around her clitoris and the surrounding folds of sensitive skin, Ama let her mind wander. Unlike most times, it didn’t go far. Her thoughts shot straight to Arkyn. Arkyn looking so uncertain with a tiny kitten in his large hands. Arkyn lifting heavy boxes like they were filled with helium. Arkyn looking at her without any detectable evidence of boredom, concern, or regret. Arkyn who was the size of a boulder and just as solid.
Could he anchor her? Could he keep her from floating away?
The memory of his body heated her skin. The memory of his deep voice warmed her muscles. His composure, steadfast and sure even in light of all her untimely redirections.
God it was sexy, the way he seemed unbothered by her quirks.
She palmed a small breast, squeezing and plucking at it. What would Arkyn’s enormous hands feel like against her flesh? What would his fingers feel like buried deep inside her? More filling that her own, that was for certain. And his cock even more so. She pumped two fingers against her G-spot, her back arching and her muscles clenching against her approaching release. The thought of his body pressing hers into the mattress made her moan out loud. His hands holding her in place, placing her where he wanted, securing her to him. It was everything she hadn’t realized she needed in a lover. His strength, his size, the weight of his voice, the smell of his?—
Most recent lover.
Her arousal and oncoming orgasm deflated like a whoopie cushion. Arkyn hadn’t known she even existed when he’d chosen last night’s entertainment, and Ama wasn’t the jealous type. But the thought of him making love to a woman with enough taste to wear such feminine, beautiful, popular perfume… well, it was the perfect reminder that Ama was anything but.
On a resigned sigh, she lumbered out of bed. Maybe she’d at least be able to sleep tonight. For now, she picked up her trail of clothing in the living room and located her phone in the refrigerator. Arkyn had texted her again at some point.
You asleep?
She responded.
No luck.
Wanna chat? Call me.
Did she want to talk with him? Was that even a question worth considering? The answer was Yes!
He picked up on the first ring. “Gotta put you on speaker. My hands are busy assembling a mushroom-shaped scratching post someone insisted I purchase.”
Ama smiled at the thread of humor in his voice. The spiky edges that had settled in her muscles and scared away her orgasm smoothed instantly at the sound of it. “Yes, Astra was very determined she needed it.”
His voice was more distant, and echoed a bit, from being on speaker now, but she heard Astra’s tiny meow clearly, followed by purrs the volume of a rock concert. “Hey, fluffball.” Arkyn laughed. “No sleeping on the phone.”
Ama snickered. Too bad they weren’t FaceTiming. Then she’d be able to see sweet Astra’s face as she slept. And Arkyn as he did… anything. She tucked the phone between her cheek and shoulder, and realized she was still naked. Okay, good thing they weren’t FaceTiming.
“Is Astra all set up to rule your home?”
Arkyn grunted in assent. “90 percent. Fed and watered her like you said to. Then I set up her litter box. And I’m pretty sure I got some litter in my mouth.”
“Well, at least it was clean.” She laughed. She wandered back to her bed and lay down again, content to curl up with her phone and her two new friends. “How far has she explored?”
Arkyn chuckled. “Not much. She’s stuck pretty close to me. Then again, I still have some shrimp sushi leftovers. She probably doesn’t want to risk me eating it without her.”
“I think she doesn’t want to risk losing you. She only just found you.”
“Is that so?” His voice warmed and she felt his smile through the WiFi. “I can understand the sentiment.”
So could she.
Ama set the phone beside her head and nestled more snuggly under the covers. Then she giggled. “I have you on my pillow next to me.”
“So, is this our version of pillow talk?” He chuckled, low and slow, and she felt it to her toes. Her muscles relaxed as her body warmed from being surrounded by the low, calming frequency of his brown noise voice. She’d once lounged in a Jacuzzi spa while on a spring break vacation, the warm water and jets massaging her muscles until she thought she might melt away in bliss. That night had nothing on her current reaction to Arkyn’s voice in her ears.
“Hmmmmm, yeah. Pillow talk.” She could barely open her mouth or move her tongue to speak, her muscles so lax. Her eyelids fluttered closed. “Please don’t stop.”
“I’ve never had anyone say that over the phone.” The sensual innuendo sent shivers down her spine.
He continued as she’d requested, but she lost track of his words and the topic of his single-sided conversation, instead letting his voice fill the void deep within her, like a lasso securing her to him. Or at least to this side of consciousness. Grounding her so no matter where she floated in her dreams, she was assured to return to earth.
The darkness of sleep enveloped her, and for the first time, she welcomed it.