Big Fan: A Modern Romance

by Alexandra Romanoff

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, in my many, many long years,” Charlie says. “It’s that the world rarely ends when you think it will.”

“And then you said you wanted to love me for the rest of your life. And you said it enough times that I realized that it didn’t matter if I understood why. You knew exactly who you were getting, and you always wanted more. You had chosen me. And I had to start choosing me too. So, Kate, I promise that I will try to love myself the way you love me. And I will try to be worthy of the gift of your love, and your confidence, and your light, and your warmth, every day of our lives.”

grin up at him, a little self-satisfied too. “You’re good with your mouth.” “I’m glad to hear it.” I pull his head down toward mine, and I can taste myself on him as our lips meet. My nakedness feels indecent against the suit’s fabric.

When he gets there, he bites down on my shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark. It feels like a claim being staked: You are mine. I know he doesn’t mean it, but I love the sensation all the same.

“Mmmm.” He reaches for me, pulling me toward him, and I’m more than happy to go. There’s something so simple about morning-after sex, when you’re both already naked and there’s nothing left to prove. The night’s urgency is gone, but it’s replaced by something slow and sweet and thick. Charlie strokes his fingers along my sides, a lazy caress, and sparks shoot across the skin he touches. I arch my back and push myself against his erection. I desperately want him to hold me in place, right here, right now, for just a little while longer.

I spend the rest of the day in a pleasant, well-fucked haze.

And there he is, Charlie, leaning against a row of lockers in the empty hallway of a public high school. Honestly, it would be so much easier on me if he’d quit with the Jordan Catalano cosplay. He’s jacket-less now, sleeves rolled, tie discarded.

I’m thirty-five, not twenty-two, I want to tell her. I am too old to be patronized like this and too young to have bought into Lean In. I don’t just have potential; I have success.

I’ve been holding back as best I can. I’ve been the very best and brightest professional version of myself for months. I’ve been obedient and quiet and nearly flawless in the service of someone else’s dream. Now I want to be base again: to get my hands on Charlie’s skin and scratch marks into its smoothness. To be wet and wrecked underneath him.

I remember exactly what it was like to be that young, and to need someone to tell me who and what I was.