Chapter Thirteen

 

 

 

“It’s official. The universe is fucking with us,” groaned Mary, now cold and shivering from running through the storm.

“I don’t know what to tell you or the universe,” Peter said, who was just as soaked. “My landlord did mention something yesterday about some utility work in the basement. Guess he didn’t plan on the weather, either.”

“Does that mean the power won’t be coming back on anytime soon?”

“It…might be a while,” Peter said in a less-than-optimistic tone.

Mary muttered a string of curses under her breath as she hugged her shoulders to stop the shivering. They’d arrived at Peter’s apartment building just as the storm had gotten really bad. It was like a miniature hurricane. Heavy rain and high winds hammered the area that had only known drought for months. It had caught everyone off-guard, adding even more complications to the emotionally tense predicament.

Shortly after they’d made it into the building, the power had gone out. That meant they couldn’t distract themselves with movies or TV. She and Peter would now be in a darkened apartment, soaking wet and with little to do.

It felt like one of those scenarios that could turn into a horror movie or a porno. Mary could already hear Sister Angela’s voice urging her to leave, but she promised herself she would see this through. Already, it felt like her resolve was being tested.

“I’ll get some towels,” Peter said after closing the door behind them. “Just make yourself comfortable…relatively speaking.”

“I’ll try, but I’m in the apartment of a guy I just kissed. That’s going to be tricky,” Mary reminded him.

“Yeah. I imagine it would be,” he replied awkwardly.

“Did you expect the power to go out?”

“No, but I think it’s best we temper our expectations from here on out.”

Mary rolled her eyes and hugged her shoulders, still shivering from the wet cold. While Peter went to retrieve the towels, she made her way into the apartment.

Overall, it was a fairly decent place. It looked like it was a one-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment with a gas fireplace and an average-sized living room. She could tell he had just moved in. There were still boxes stacked along the walls near the fireplace. The only pieces of furniture he had were a small sofa with an end table and a TV stand.

There were no pictures or décor on the walls, nothing that would indicate he had once been a womanizing pussy hound. If he had anything he could’ve used to impress a woman, he’d obviously left it behind in LA. For someone trying to get away from the reckless life he’d once lived, it seemed fitting.

Mary ended sitting down on the sofa. With the power out and nothing else raising her suspicions, she gazed through of the window overlooking town. Since the apartment was several floors up, she had a nice view of Hartman County’s urban areas. The view revealed that the universe wasn’t picking only on them.

The street lights and windows for several blocks were dark, indicating that the power outage went beyond this building. It also revealed the size and scope of the storm. If the darkness of the clouds was any indication, the storm would last for quite a while. That meant she was stuck here for the time being

After the gravity of her predicament set in, Mary contemplated what would happen next. She thought back to the kiss that the storm had interrupted. She could still taste Peter’s lips on hers, still recall the way his arms felt around her. In her shivering state, Mary really longed for that warmth right about now. At the same time, she tried to scrutinize all the feelings that kiss had evoked in her.

What are you doing here? What do you want from this man? she asked herself.

As she watched the rain fall, Mary went over the possibilities. The most obvious also happened to be dangerous. Maybe those feelings were the product of repressed sexual urges. It made some sense, as evidenced by her recent masturbation habits. The whole ordeal could just be the byproduct of a sex-addicted woman who just really wanted to have sex again. If that was the case, then Mary might as well brave the storm, because she would only hurt herself and Peter by giving in.

She refused to accept the possibility. There had been something else in that kiss. Those lustful inclinations were present, but there were more powerful feelings at work. It couldn’t be that she was falling in love with the guy. Love didn’t work that way. Even if it did, it still wouldn’t be sufficient.

That kiss had just been the culmination of many feelings. All those things they’d talked about earlier, from her descent into addiction to her struggles to recover, had acted as a spark of sorts. Mary had never been so open and honest with someone before. Perhaps talking about those experiences had revealed something she had missed in her previous efforts to deal with her problems. It was the least-obvious possibility, but one that offered the most tantalizing outcomes.

“Hey. Sorry I took so long,” Peter said, breaking her train of thought as he entered the room. “I had to sift through a few boxes.”

“That’s okay. I didn’t expect you to be that organized,” Mary said. “It never was your style.”

“You’re not still mad at me for losing your biology textbook, are you?” Peter asked as he tossed her a towel.

“You mean the one from sixth grade? The one that got me a week of detention?” teased Mary. “Now that you mention it, I am still mad.”

“Sorry. I can’t get that week back for you, but I can get you some coffee if the gas is still working.”

“I guess it’ll have to do,” she said with mild annoyance. “We’re still not even, though.”

They both laughed, which helped ease the tension. They might have been a couple of recovering sex addicts in a very awkward situation, but neither she nor Peter had forgotten that they had once been friends. Mary took comfort in that friendship, even as she contemplated the more intimate possibilities.

As Peter walked to the kitchen, Mary stood and dried herself off with the towel. She then looked over and watched the handsome man from her youth work the stove.

He still wore the same pants as earlier, but he’d changed his shirt. If he had been trying to seduce her, he probably would’ve just strutted out in his underwear and let her hormones do the rest. That clearly wasn’t his agenda, though. He’d kept those feelings in check, much to her relief.

However, they must still be affecting him. He fumbled around with the stove, struggling to get one of the panels lit. He seemed every bit as distracted as she was, appearing way too tense. Mary laughed to herself, wondering if he was contemplating the same intimate possibilities. Distractions aside, Peter finally got the stove going.

“Ah! There we go,” Peter said with a sigh of relief. “The gas is still working, so we won’t freeze or starve.”

“You make it sound like we’re snowed in or something,” Mary said.

“I know. Sorry if I sound paranoid. I guess I just got too comfortable in the predictable Southern California weather.”

As he said that, he spilled some of the instant coffee powder onto his kitchen table. Mary snickered, much to his chagrin. For a well-conditioned firefighter, he was pretty clumsy and she had a good idea why.

“You sure don’t look comfortable, but I’m guessing that’s not because of the weather.”

“Speak for yourself, Mary. You’re still giving me that look,” retorted Peter smugly.

“What look? You think I’m going to fall into the same trap as every other girl you’ve lured into your apartment?” teased Mary.

“You always were a step ahead of me. I doubt any of my tricks would work on you, so I’ll save myself the trouble.”

“You better. I came here for a reason, remember? I still don’t know the extent of that reason, but I’m determined to find out,” she said in a more serious tone.

“So am I,” Peter said.

He sounded every bit as serious. It convinced Mary that he was committed to finishing what they’d started. It might not mean sharing another kiss, but she tried not to make too many assumptions.

As she watched Peter make the coffee, she pondered their next step. How exactly could they pick up where they’d left off? One moment they had been kissing and the next moment they had found themselves in the middle of a storm. Before that, it had felt like she and Peter were on the brink of a profound realization. In hearing the story of how her addiction had broken her, he’d seen something that she hadn’t, and now Mary was determined to see it, too.

Once he’d finished making the coffee, he walked over to the living room and handed her a cup. With a hot beverage in hand, Mary sat back down on the couch with the damp towel draped around her neck. He didn’t sit down with her, though. As she drank to warm herself, Peter activated the gas fireplace. He managed to get it going without incident, providing them with much-needed light and heat.

In any other circumstance, this would’ve been a romantic, sensual mood. Instead, a great deal of tension lingered, only some of which was sexual.

“So…how do you want to handle this?” Mary asked.

“I don’t know. I didn’t think that far ahead when I invited you here,” admitted Peter.

“And for once, you can’t blame your penis. How sad is that?” Mary said.

“Very, but if we’re going to finish what we started, then we need to stay serious.”

“I am being serious. It is kind of pathetic when you think about it…us ending up here and our sexual urges having little to do with it. That says to me that we’re too used to things being simple, getting just intimate enough to get laid and not much else beyond that.”

“When you put it like that, it sounds more tragic than pathetic,” Peter said.

“It works both ways. It might be why I kissed you and didn’t know what the hell to make of it. I guess if we’re really going to take this head on, let’s start with that kiss, because I’d like to know what went into it.”

“That makes two of us.”

They were officially on the same page now. Peter looked just as conflicted about the kiss as she was. Mary also noticed that he remained near the fireplace, still keeping his distance, while she sat on the sofa.

He wouldn’t say it, but she could tell he was reluctant to get close in a way that would risk greater temptation. It wasn’t just sexual temptation, either. Another kiss might just add to the confusion. Before they could be that bold, they needed to confront this.

“That kiss was… Well, it was…nice,” Peter said with a slight smile.

“No argument here. It was definitely something,” Mary said with a smile of her own. “Would it be just as sad if I told you that you’re the first person I’ve kissed in a year?”

“Not necessarily,” Peter said. “A kiss is usually an effect, not a cause. So why don’t we focus on the stuff that came before it?”

“Good idea, but you’re the one who kissed me, so I’m not sure I can say much.”

“You’re right. I am the one who triggered it. You just accepted it. That may not sound like much, but it’s worth thinking about.”

“Why do you say that?” Mary asked.

“Because when I was doing my reckless man-whoring, I took the exact opposite approach. I never instigated a kiss. I just charmed the woman until she made the first move.”

“You think that matters?”

“Yeah, I think it matters a lot,” Peter said. As he sipped his coffee, he began pacing around his living room. It shouldn’t have been a big deal, him making the first move. Most men who had significant dating experience wouldn’t have batted an eye. The fact he found it so jarring made it worth scrutinizing.

“But why does it matter?” he muttered under his breath. “It shouldn’t, but—”

“It does matter. And it matters for a reason,” Mary said, following his train of thought. “And a good reason that’s worth knowing.”

That continued to bother them both. While Peter paced, Mary thought about it as well. It had been almost as jarring, a man being so direct with her. It had flipped the script she usually followed when hooking up with a man. She’d had to be the one doing the seducing, from that first interested gaze to the moment clothes started coming off. That hadn’t happened this time. Instead, Peter had made the first move and she’d just accepted it.

Something about that stuck with her. Mary closed her eyes and relived that moment while the memory was still fresh. In doing so, she experienced some of those feelings again. This time, they weren’t nearly as overwhelming. This allowed her to process them, which led to a few realizations.

“We’ve kissed people before. I’ve kissed men much harder than I kissed you. I’m sure you’ve kissed women just as much…and not always on the lips,” Mary said

“I’d rather not speak to that, so I’ll just resist the urge to comment,” Peter said, still pacing. “Are you going somewhere with this, Mary?”

“Bear with me, Peter, because I don’t think it was the intensity of that kiss that made it feel so different. I think it was the setup. Based on what you told me about your womanizing ways, it went like this… You got her intrigued, you got her in the mood then—once the blood started flowing in the right directions—you let her instincts do the rest. You let her set the pace and the program. Am I accurate so far?”

“In the most basic sort of way? Yeah, I’d say so,” affirmed Peter.

“I did something similar, but in reverse,” continued Mary. “I got the guy intrigued, I got him aroused, then once we agreed to do the deed, I took the initiative. I made sure I controlled the situation, from foreplay to climax to afterglow. That means if we didn’t know each other and just randomly hooked up, our methods would’ve complemented each other perfectly.”

“I’d say that’s accurate, too. You think that’s why it felt strange? It was just so different?”

“I don’t think so. Novelty alone only goes so far, especially for a couple of sex addicts. I think there was something deeper at work.”

“Something else? Like what?”

Peter stopped pacing and leaned on the wall near the fireplace. Mary took another sip of her coffee, still recalling that kiss. Her gaze shifted toward the window, where the storm continued to escalate.

Heavy rains kept pouring amid frequent thunder and lightning. It was a complete reversal of the hot, dry conditions that had sent Hartman County into a record drought. In a sense, it mirrored her and Peter’s experience perfectly.

“Sister Angela once said that we become addicted to things because we use them to fill a hole in our souls. She also said something about filling that hole with something positive. In her case, she filled it with Jesus. I guess that works for her, but I also think she’s missing the bigger picture,” Mary said.

“Like what created that hole in the first place,” surmised Peter.

“Exactly!” she said. “We both have that hole in us, to some extent. It might not be the same, but we’ve used the same tactics to fill it.”

“With sex?”

“Not just sex—a very particular approach to sex. We needed to do it a certain way. We needed to follow a certain path—one that became a coping skill of sorts.”

“If it was a coping skill, it wasn’t a very good one. It still messed us up big time,” Peter said.

“Very true, but that’s still not the full story,” Mary said. “We could’ve used other unhealthy methods to cope—pot, cocaine, junk food. Hell, we had options. It still ended up being sex.”

“How much does the method really matter?”

“I think it matters more than we think. If it didn’t, then that kiss wouldn’t have felt so overwhelming. This leads me to believe there’s a reason we got addicted to sex, and maybe it has something to do with the way we approached it.”

Peter fell silent, drinking the rest of his coffee and giving her the look he only gave when he was really stuck on something. Mary finished hers and set the cup aside. She stopped reliving the moment of the kiss in her mind and turned back toward the man standing before her.

She had talked before about the reasons sex had become her addiction of choice. In fact, Mary had talked about it to the point of frustration with Sister Angela during her first three months in the program. Before their earlier talk, the nun had often focused on the treatment rather than the cause, which might be why her efforts had never felt sufficient. This told Mary that there was something important they both had overlooked and kissing Peter had helped expose it.

“When you kissed me, you took a different approach,” Mary said. “You were in a position to get something you wanted, but you took another path to get it.”

“That implies my only intent was to get you into bed with me. That’s not what I wanted, Mary,” Peter said.

“So…what? You’re not attracted to me? You don’t find me sexy?”

“Don’t do that, Mary. This isn’t a game.”

“I wasn’t trying to make it a game,” she continued. “It’s a serious factor to consider. There’s definitely some attraction we’re avoiding. I think we felt it that first night we met. If we didn’t, you wouldn’t have run off on me.”

Peter looked uncomfortable again. He didn’t flat-out admit that he was attracted to her, but he didn’t have to. Mary could see the signs.

She hadn’t bothered avoiding it. Her attraction to him had become abundantly clear, as her recent masturbation habits had demonstrated. Without revealing those intimate details, she gave him a reassuring smile to ease the tension. It helped somewhat, but it also helped make her point.

“It’s okay. It doesn’t have to be weird. You’re an attractive guy. I’m an attractive girl. We’ve already got a history. There’s bound to be some mutual interest involved,” Mary said.

“Attraction, lust, love, whatever you want to call it… It’s a few steps beyond weird,” Peter said awkwardly.

“Maybe that’s a sign that there’s something right about it. When we kissed—whatever method we used—it still felt right. In fact, it felt so right that I’m starting to think the solution is more obvious than we’re willing to admit.”

“Solution? Solution to what?”

“I’m not sure. I’m just thinking out loud here,” admitted Mary. “All I know is that when I kissed you, I felt something that filled that emptiness inside me—something that I’m just now starting to understand.”

The mood between her and Peter shifted. The emotions she’d felt at that moment became secondary. The forces that evoked those emotions took priority.

Mary could tell he was reliving the kiss in his mind, trying to understand it as she did. The way he looked at her made the extent of those emotions clear. It was enough to make Mary feel awkward, but it didn’t keep her from smiling.

“It’s strange. The more I think about it, the less weird it seems,” Peter said. “Maybe that’s another sign.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of just identifying the signs. I’m more interested in what they’re saying,” Mary said.

“So, what are they saying? Is it really just a matter of needing someone you want to both love and fuck?”

“You think a solution to something like this could be that simple?”

“It would be nice if it were. It would make a terrible romantic comedy, but it wouldn’t be completely outrageous,” Peter said. “We both admitted to keeping things casual when exercising our addiction. I remember resisting the urge to seek any emotional entanglement with someone. This might be the resistance of those urges catching up with me.”

“If that’s the case, then the kiss would’ve been downright hollow,” Mary said. “That would make all those feelings as genuine as the ones we’d get from a run-of-the-mill one-night stand.”

“Which is exactly why I guess that’s not the case,” Peter said. “You said you felt something that actually filled the void. Just releasing pent-up desires wouldn’t do that. It would only replace one kind of emptiness with another.”

“Makes sense,” shrugged Mary.

“So then, it’s not just that we crave a connection with someone that involves something other than swapping bodily fluids,” continued Peter. “It’s more that we never learned how to make it in the first place. We only knew one way to connect, but that way only went so far. Then, today, we tried a new way and something else came from it—something amazing.”

As he said the words, he finally smiled back at her. It made Mary feel awkward in a way she hadn’t since her teen years. It was unfamiliar, but not uncomfortable.

With the tension fading rapidly, Peter finally sat down on the sofa next to her. She was tempted to move in closer and slip into his arms, but she held back. A part of her wanted to tempt him as she had tempted many men, but she didn’t want to do that. In the end, Mary didn’t have to.

For a brief moment, Peter just sat there and gave her an affectionate gaze. The way he looked at her made her feel something that went beyond attraction. It couldn’t just be lust. It couldn’t just be love, either. This had to be something more. He clearly felt it, as well, and wanted more of it, just as she did.

“But as amazing as it was, it was still…incomplete,” Peter said.

“Which wasn’t our fault, mind you,” reminded Mary, just as another round of thunder hit.

“Well, we’re indoors now—alone, out of sight and with exceedingly few distractions. We’ve already told our respective stories. We’ve been brutally honest with each other.”

“Maybe even too brutal,” added Mary.

“Be that as it may, there’s not much left to say. If we wanted, we could try to complete the feeling.”

“I thought that was the main reason for inviting me to your apartment…and all the implications that come with it.”

“It is. So, I guess the only thing stopping us now is… Do we even know?”

That was the burning question. Before she dared to evoke any more intense feelings with Peter, she had to determine how to confront all this.

That first kiss between them had just happened. It had been a culmination of instinct, and she couldn’t rely on that again. In fact, relying on instinct was a big part of what had led her and Peter into their current predicament. To truly break the cycle that had fueled their sexual addiction, they needed to do something much bolder.

Mary opened her mouth to offer an answer, but nothing came out. Her mind went blank. Her train of thought had hit a dead end. Doing something bold had never scared Mary before. No woman ever had ever become a successful model or an unapologetic slut by being shy. However, something like this required a different kind of boldness.

Her silence seemed to disappoint Peter. He must have been at just as much a loss. Letting out an exasperated sigh, he shook his head and turned back toward the fire in his fireplace.

“Sorry,” he said. “I was kind of hoping you had the answer, because this is where my expertise ends.”

“I’m as disappointed as you. I’m usually pretty good at coming up with something…even if it is crazy,” Mary said.

“You always were full of crazy ideas as a kid,” Peter said. “For this, we may need something extra weird.”

He remained fixated on the fire. Mary tried to encourage him, reaching over and placing a hand on his leg. It didn’t have the effect she’d hoped for, but it should remind him that they were in this together—however right or wrong it ended up being.

While Peter stared distantly into the fire, Mary decided not to strain herself more than she already had. She slumped in her seat, resting her head on the back of the sofa. For a moment, she just watched the fire with Peter. It offered a warm, soothing ambience in the midst of a raging storm. It helped her relax, but it didn’t give her any ideas.

As they sat in silence, Mary turned toward the window again and watched the storm outside rage on. The pouring rain pounded the windows. The wind and the thunder echoed from the sky. It was eerily beautiful, but that might have been a byproduct of the drought. It had been so long since Hartman County had seen any rain that a storm like this was a major spectacle.

Then, as Mary admired this sight, an idea came to her. She became more alert, as though she had just received an urgent message. She rose from the sofa, getting Peter’s attention in the process, while she remained fixated on the raging storm outside.

“What is it, Mary? Is something wrong?” Peter asked.

He sounded worried but intrigued. The idea that had just popped into Mary’s head was beyond crazy. For a moment, she tried convincing herself to forget it. She failed. In doing so, Mary only convinced herself that the idea was worth trying.

Now, standing in the middle of the living room, Mary turned back toward Peter. The idea might have been nuts, but it made too much sense. All the complications that had driven her into her sexual addiction took on a new context. Her mind began to race again, so much so that a smile formed on her face. In a moment that might define her fate and Peter’s, Mary made a bold yet very unusual choice.

“Mary?” Peter said with growing curiosity.

“Let’s have sex,” Mary proclaimed with more enthusiasm than she’d intended. “Right here. Right now. Let’s do it. Let’s have sex!”