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I’M A PRETTY LIGHT sleeper lately, so when I notice a change in Maverick’s body next to me, I wake up right away. We’d fallen asleep with me on his chest, both of us warm and languid and boneless. Now he’s stiff, tight, and his heart is pounding too fast under my cheek.
I lift my head. Clock says 2:14. Kenzie will be up soon.
I wipe my mouth and chin for stray sleeping drool and consider the man I’m curled against. I need to be so careful. What he did to my body, what I did to his, brought me to another plane of existence. A guy could get used to the kind of orgasms that wring out his body.
Don’t.
I know, I know.
I promised myself that I would be enough for my child when her bio-dad dumped us. When my parents were too disappointed in me to keep loving us. I can’t let my heart lead us to that kind of hurt again. I have to be enough for her and for me. It’s nice having Maverick around, but I can’t get used to it or depend on him too much. I have to make sure that if we remain friends with benefits, it stays friends with benefits. It’s too easy to rely on him like he’ll always be there. When your own parents break up with you, you learn nobody is really safe. Nobody stays forever.
I just have to be strong. Enjoy his body. His time. His infinite patience. His sense of honor. His humor. His heart...fuck, I’m falling for him and I can’t. I absolutely cannot.
His body tenses below me again, and I realize he’s dreaming. It doesn’t seem like a happy one. He shoots upright, gasping, and I get bounced off him back to my own side of the bed.
I scramble back to him. “Maverick, it’s okay. You’re dreaming. It’s a bad dream.”
He looks at me with a lax expression, his eyes cloudy and unfocused.
“You were having a dream,” I repeat and reach for his shoulder. It’s clammy, and he shrugs me off him and bolts out of bed.
“Sorry.” He searches the floor for his shorts, his movements erratic and jerky. “I should go. Sorry I woke you.”
“No big deal. It’s almost time for—” my speech is broken off by Kenzie’s muffled cry on the baby monitor. “Well, you know.” I laugh it off as I roll out of bed, but the laughter is forced. I feel a lot more naked right now than I did when he was inside me.
I don’t like this sense of bewilderment I feel. I don’t want to get too close to him, but I don’t appreciate feeling like he’s pulling away either. He isn’t looking at me. He won’t look at me.
I know this feeling. This sinking of the heart. I drop my chin to my chest. I’ve been here before. I tug on the first clothes I find, wanting not to be visible.
“I’ll go—” my voice cracks, so I clear it. “I’ll go feed Kenzie. You can...stay.”
“No, I should...”
“Right. Okay. Well, see you tomorrow then.”
I rush out of the room, past him and into the living room where Kenzie’s crib is. I pull it together with a deep breath and reach in to get her. “Hello, hungry baby. Daddy’s here.”
As soon as she is in my arms, I feel more centered again. She’s already rooting around on my shirt as I walk to the rocking chair. Hungry baby is right. Maverick comes out looking more himself.
“Sorry that was weird. I...the dream. I just have trouble shaking it sometimes.”
I settle Kenzie on my nipple. “Sure, yeah. It’s fine.”
“I’m going to go home, but I’ll see you later today, right? We still on for the park later?”
I nod and force a smile. He leans down and kisses the top of my head and then the top of Kenzie’s head. She doesn’t notice. Food is all she needs right now. And that I can give her. I have serious doubts about my ability to provide her with what she’ll need as the years progress, but right now, I can do this. And I don’t need anyone.
When the door latches, I let out a shuddering breath and tug the baby closer. “We’ll figure it out together, baby. You and me together. Against the world.”
Later that day, Maverick stops by with the mail, just like most days. I should probably tell him I can get my own mail. It would be good for me to look at all the ways I’ve insinuated him into our lives and start taking baby steps away from them. Like that old saying goes about people coming into your life for a season or something. The fact that it hurts to think of him not being a part of my everyday life is the very reason I should start the process sooner. If he stops coming and I’m not prepared, it will hurt more.
That’s when I see it.
A card in a pink envelope with my mother’s writing. My belly tumbles.
“Why are you shaking?” Maverick asks me and immediately comes to my side.
“Um. Maybe I didn’t eat enough.”
He looks right through me and then looks at the pile of mail. “What is upsetting you about that card?”
I blow out a slow breath. “It’s from my mother.”
“You don’t talk much about your parents.”
“There’s not much to say. They wanted me to leave town while I was pregnant and give my baby away. They didn’t want their friends or the people from church to know that I had fallen.” I push the card away from me. “They told me they wouldn’t pay for anything unless I did it their way, so I left. Old Joe hired me back on. I sold my car since I only live a couple blocks away from work. I haven’t spoken to my parents or anyone in the family since.”
And nobody has tried. I don’t know what they tell their friends. Or their church. I stopped hoping for a call after a couple of months went by. Seeing my mother’s handwriting brings back the familiar hurt.
“I’m sorry. They shouldn’t have done that to you. They are your family. That’s supposed to mean something.”
I shrug it off. “It means I learned my lesson.”
“You should read the card.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Simon...”
“Fine.” I rip it open with shaking fingers, pink glitter puffs out of the envelope. It’s your standard sugar and spice welcome to a new girl, along with a check for fifty dollars and an invitation to come by some time.
“They want to meet her.” There’s this pit in the middle of my stomach that feels like it’s sucking everything into it. Like I’m falling into myself and once I’m gone, that’s it.
“That’s good, right? Mending fences and all that?”
The shudder that wracks my spine says otherwise. No. I can’t fall into the void that’s pulling me. I have to claw my way back out. For my daughter. “I don’t want Kenzie to find out the hard way what happens when you disappoint them somehow. It’s better if she never meets them.”
I turn and look for something constructive to do. Luckily there are always dishes in my sink that need to be washed.
“Hey.” He pulls me into a hug. The spearmint and spice cloud loosens my tension-filled muscles. It feels too good. I want this too much. “I’ll go with you.”
“What?” I pull back and put distance between us. “Why?”
He recovers quickly, but I see the pain that flashed in his eyes. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“I’m sorry, Maverick. It’s not you. I just don’t think it’s a good idea.” I cross the room and adjust the baby in her swing. “We don’t need them.”
“Of course you don’t need them. But that doesn’t mean you can’t have them in your life. On your terms.” He pulls me over to the couch and sits next to me. “You’re the strongest person I know.”
“I’m really not.”
I miss my parents all the time. It’s like a blade making a fresh cut every time when I want to pick up the phone and tell my mom something about Kenzie and remember that I can’t. That we aren’t family anymore. That they didn’t want her or me.
“I know you, Simon. You will obsess about this if you don’t at least try. You’ll always wonder if you should have given them a chance. Let’s just go and we’ll see. If it’s a mistake, then you’ll know.”
“Just go? Like now?”
He stands up. “Like now.”
I can think of a thousand reasons not to. And I should go on my own, anyway. Not drag Maverick into it. Not depend on him more. But he’s right. He does know me, and my mind won’t let go. Not after she reached out.
Which is how I find myself on the stoop of my childhood home three hours later. I stare at the doorknob. I can’t just walk in anymore. I don’t know how to do this. Maverick reaches in front of me and presses the doorbell
Right. That’s how you do it.
I flex my fingers, curling and uncurling.
“Relax,” he says in my ear, that low, gravelly voice that soothes me even when I don’t want to be soothed.
“I can’t. I feel like my lungs won’t expand all the way. This is a bad idea.”
Like last night was a bad idea. We still haven’t talked about that. How did we get here, on my parent’s doorstep, before we talked about the sex we had last night?
Now is not the time to think about sex. Stop it.
The door opens. I don’t know why I thought my mom would look different. She looks the same as she did a year ago. It just feels like a lifetime since I’ve seen her, but it hasn’t been one. Her face softens momentarily, then she takes in Maverick holding Kenzie in her car seat. “Who in the world are you?”
––––––––
I DON’T KNOW WHY I didn’t plan what to say to that ahead of time. I should have assumed it would come up, right? Who am I standing on their porch with their son and holding their grandchild?
Who am I? Certainly not anyone I currently recognize.
“Mom, this is my neighbor, Maverick. He helps me out sometimes.”
I’m a cop, and I know how to hold an expression on my face that doesn’t go along with what I’m feeling inside. I’ve had to assure people they were okay when they were not. I’ve lied to plenty of people to get them to tell me things they don’t want to. But as I struggle to hold my cop face in place, my heart cracks like it’s been hit with a sledgehammer.
I don’t know what I thought I was to Simon, but neighbor who helps him out sometimes wasn’t it. Best friend? Lover? Legal parent of his child? I shut all that down. I guess it’s not important what he tells his parents right now since he doesn’t trust them. This isn’t a defining moment in our relationship.
Why does it feel like it is?
We enter the house, and Simon is tense, his expression unforgiving. When his mom wants to hold Kenzie, I can see how much it costs him. His dad joins us, and he’s watching me warily. Who could blame him? This whole situation is weird, and I don’t know why I volunteered for it.
I drink my coffee and watch Simon twist his hands. Small talk is awkward, but since I’m there, nobody gets into the blame game and everyone stays civil.
“When are you going back to work, son?” Mr. Bloom asks me.
“Well, sir. As soon as I’m cleared.”
Mrs. Bloom obviously enjoys holding the baby, but she looks up sharply. “You’re going back to the ERU? Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Mom—”
“Well, isn’t it? I would think you might want something safer now.”
“Now what, Mom?”
Mrs. Bloom’s cheeks pinken. “Well, with you and Kenzie...”
“Simon and I are just friends, ma’am. You don’t have to worry about him getting involved with a cop from the city.”
Simon’s eyes cut a path to me, sharp and dangerous. “Exactly. Just friends. Nothing more.”
The temperature in the room plummets. Here I thought I’d be a good buffer between Simon and his parents’ tension, but it turns out they have to buffer ours.
I shouldn’t have slept with him. How could I not know it would ruin everything? Those hours in his bed were amazing, but it’s the months in his life I need more, and I screwed that up by thinking with my cock.
“Excuse me,” Simon says icily as he gets up to use the bathroom, leaving me with his folks and a fussy baby.
“Ma’am, may I?” I ask, indicating to Kenzie. Mrs. Bloom doesn’t look convinced it’s a good idea, but once Kenzie is in my arms, she stops her little cries and settles in.
“You have a way with her,” Mr. Bloom says.
“We have an understanding.” I shift her to the other arm. “She twists me around her baby pinkie finger and I let her.”
Mr. And Mrs. Bloom chuckle and the tension in the room lightens until Simon returns. I’m not good at emotions, but I can read his pretty well, and he’s pissed and uncomfortable and it’s my fault.
I knew I was falling for him. I should have known there would never be such a thing as casual sex when it came to the two of us. Damn. I don’t know what he wants from me. When I agree with him that we’re just friends, he acts like I’m being an ass. But what am I supposed to do? Shout from the rooftops that I have loved him since the first day I saw him moving in? He is the one who wants to keep it platonic.
This is why I never wanted to get involved. I was fine by myself. I was happy living my bachelor life and not having anyone to answer to.
We don’t speak the whole trip back. The meeting went well as far as mending the rift in their family. I don’t think it will be easy, but if he and his parents try, I think they can get past it. I know how hurt he is, but I saw the pictures on their mantel. They love their son. Parenting just doesn’t come with a manual and people are human and screw up.
When we get to the apartment, he stops me before I come in. “I’m really tired. I think I’m going to turn in early. Thanks for the ride to my parents’.”
The ride? He thinks I went with him so he didn’t have to take a bus?
He’s got me all tied up inside. “You want help with Kenzie’s bath? I can make you dinner, since you’re tired.”
The naked longing in his eyes doesn’t match his words. “No, thank you. You’ve been such a good friend to us, but I really don’t want to take advantage of you anymore. You should maybe go out, grab a beer with the guys. Have one for me.”
Have a beer with the guys? I think I’ve done that once since I met him. I don’t even remember the last time I didn’t spend an evening in Simon’s living room. “Sure, yeah. Hang out with the guys. Have a good night.”
I don’t know why he is doing this. His face doesn’t match what he’s saying. I could guilt my way in to his house. I could probably even get back in his bed tonight. I’d love to slide back into his body and bury my face in his neck and forget this strange day ever happened. But I can see that he wants to be strong. Sex won’t fix this. Not since sex is what screwed it up.
I never should have let myself fall for him. Not when I know I’m so fucked up and he deserves so much more. I think about that as I stare at the white, unadorned walls of my apartment. For the first time, I don’t let myself into his house when I hear through the walls that he is up with Kenzie all night.
I don’t know what happened to the grumpy fucker I used to be who didn’t let anyone too close and who didn’t let himself care. It takes everything I have not to break down the wall between our apartments. That’s where my life is now.
The life I’m too chickenshit to really live.