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I spent the next five minutes debating how I’d plead in a court of law: Sorry, Your Honor, my pussy is so good, it kills men.
Plus, if I didn’t have you to keep me company, I’d probably be one of those people who gets eaten by their cat after choking on a slice of cake in the tub.”
My eyes return to admiring my friend from afar. Just a bit longer can’t hurt. It would be a crime to not appreciate an untouchable goddess.
The delectable taste of her mixed with the bitter flavor of champagne and the slightest hint of mint is priceless. “Don’t speak,” she moans. I roughly grip the hair at her nape with an unusual possessiveness. “I know you like how much I talk about you.” “Shh,” she scolds, but her groans are enough to tell me she’s enjoying this as much as I am.
Nice? Nice isn’t the word I’d use to define the chemistry we had last night. Maybe phenomenal, exceptional, unforgettable.
“I’m not making a huge mistake, right?” she whispers, her voice low with worry. A shrapnel of vulnerability I’ve never seen from her before. “I’d never let you do that,” I promise.
No way. Are you regretting your decision to come?” Fine, I won’t force him to divulge more information about the mysterious travel partner. “Coming is rarely a regrettable decision for me,” I retort. He releases a laugh that sounds like his entire soul is pouring out of him.
“Fair warning, Diego’s a bit of a jerk.” “Jerks don’t bother me.” In fact, converting douchebags into bumbling, weak-kneed, women-worshiping men is a specialty of mine.
Of course he has some kind of magical monster cock that will probably put me in thrall for him. For fuck’s sake. Things can never be easy, can they?
Just a casual evening with two casual friends hanging out in a casual hammock. Casually having orgasm after orgasm under the moonlight like some kind of werewolf mating session.
Best sex I’ll ever have (very dangerous; being dick-whipped is not an option).
“Obviously, they’re great, but they’re not productive. They’re not goals.” “You know you have worth even without goals and productivity?” Do I? “Yeah, right.” I wave my hand, brushing away his sentiment. Nico frowns. “Why can’t the goal be to simply have a good time?”
Nico’s mouth slopes downward, and I’m realizing I hate it when the sunshine leaves his face.
I pull the whistling kettle off the stovetop and pour boiling water into Lily’s mug of apology tea.
“Next time, I need you to tell me when you’re at a four out of ten so I can think ahead.” Nico gently tugs me down the street, clearing a path on the crowded sidewalk.
“Thank you, but so you know, I can take care of myself.” “I know.” Nico brings his glass to his lips, and our stares remain locked as he finishes drinking. “It’s why learning to take care of you is much sweeter.”
I’ve worked so hard to heal from him, and the moment I feel a sliver of attachment to someone, here he is. Alive and well in my head.
“You’ve been glum all day, and I don’t really like it when my Nico sunshine boy is suddenly overcast. Let’s talk about it, yeah?”
Nico tucks me beneath his right arm, away from the busy street. A protective and undeniably panty-melting gesture he does anytime we stroll around the city.
I’ve never had love handed to me before, not without deceit and pain tagging along. My hands lack the muscle memory to reach for it or surrender to him in return.
I’m here with you, and we’re going to figure this out together.” His voice drops to an uncompromising note. “Whether you like it or not.” “I don’t like to rely on anyone.” “Be brave, sweet girl, and try,” he says. “I promise, I got you.”
I sputter, trying to reel in her unnecessary wave of excitement. I set down my mug. She gets carried away so quickly, my passionate flame of a best friend.
“Reminds me of trivia nights.” My best friend gives me a sad smile, both of us painfully aware those days are behind us. Avery looks over at her husband and mouths, You’re going down. “We’re on the same team, Ave,” he reminds her, ever the patient and calm soul with her. “Right.” She glances back at Nico and me. “You’re both going down.”
Confessing my feelings about Lily to my uptight brother, right in the middle of open water, may not have been my best-laid plan ever. But there’s no way he’d litter the ocean with my strangled body when he’s the CEO of an ocean conservation firm. Right?
“Avery’s like wildfire. Something in her burns the way I do.” He tosses his head back, sending the wet clump of hair sticking to his forehead out of the way. “I’d trade anything to keep her alight, to make her smile or yell or, truly, anything at all as long as she wants to share it with me. I want nothing from her but to be around her.”
“Then, if you really do love her, little brother, the only thing you can do is show her. They’re both strongheaded and painfully independent, but it’s what makes them so rewarding to love. At the center of it all, something’s waiting for you that’s like nothing you’ve ever felt.”
Why was I so afraid to look at the truth staring me right in the face? My heart swells in admiration for Avery, who can see me through the darkness. “Why do you have to know me better than I know myself?”
He pulls me closer to him. We lie in silence for a while, watching the last drops of color bleed from the sky until the first stars appear like freckles across the ether.
“You may not like hearing this, but the person you’ve grown into this summer is much more complex and beautiful than a set of carefully planned identities. I like every part of you I’ve seen. So yeah, love, you may have walls, but after spending every day with you for over two months, I can see those walls are made of glass.” When I doubt there’s a semblance of seriousness in his body, Nico manages to throw me off-kilter, turning into one of the wisest people. “Glass is fragile and breaks easily.” Maybe that’s exactly who I am now, the same girl I was ten years ago, shattered into a million
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We kiss for what feels like hours, savoring every drop of each other, until silent cracks form in my chest. The rusted clatter of a key against a lock and then, between the swollen touch of our lips, the inevitable fall of a chain. There, in the gaping crevice of my rib cage, is my heart, already in Nico’s gentle embrace. Because I love Nico, and I think he loves me.
“Come on, pretty girl, get over here.” I walk toward her, but she skips down the beach away from me. “Or I’ll have to carry you in like the goddess you are.” “A mere mortal, carry me?” she taunts, dipping her feet into the water. “An honor.”
I drag the anvil of loneliness with me up the final few steps, fidgeting with the two bracelets Nico gifted me this summer. I haven’t been able to take them off, and I don’t think I want to. They make me feel like pieces of him are still with me—despite my insistence on the distance from him.
It became evident pretty quickly that I’d never fully closed the door on Chuck or let myself heal from the festering wound of his infidelity. The best course of action was to avoid isolating myself, as much as I wanted to, while I process my new reality.
Relearning how to think about love through therapy and storytelling has been liberating.
