Grady
The house is silent now, but I can’t sleep. Too much running through my head, and although I should be thinking of a million other things, my mind has settled on a single thought.
Cassie
.
How far would she have let me take things if the damn dog hadn’t interrupted? I was about two seconds from kissing her, and there was nothing about her in my arms tonight that told me she would’ve stopped me. She held me, and then she let me hold her.
Touch
her.
Which is confusing as hell.
Neither one of us had that intention when she gave me that towel. I know that. She was just being Cassie, just being warm-hearted. There’s no doubt she loved Carl as if he were her own brother. His death hit her hard, too. Besides, she’s worried about me. I see it in her eyes. It’s not pity, it’s just an awareness of my emotional state.
I wouldn’t have touched her first, and she knows that. But being folded into her arms was like having the vise around my heart loosened, just a bit, just enough that I could breathe again. It was comforting and safe and warm.
And then something changed. It was still safe and warm, but it slid right past comforting into some other territory. Dangerous territory, because I’d been there before and so had she.
From our first date, Cass and I couldn’t keep our hands off each other. Although she was a virgin when we met and we took our time getting to the actual deed, we thoroughly explored the boundaries of every sexual act outside of intercourse for months and got damned good at it. As a result, our first time was off-the-charts hot, at least by teenage standards.
That’s just how it always was between us - hot. Didn’t matter if we fought - hell, the more pissed off she was the better she gave it to me. I could always count on her sweetness in the bedroom, but when she lost control of her emotions she also lost control of her inhibitions and she was
magnificent
.
She smelled the same and felt the same in my arms. I wonder if her kisses still taste the same and if she still likes to be nibbled on the back of her neck, right above her shoulder. I wonder if she still comes quietly, with just those throaty little gasps she always tried to bite back. That takes me down a path of fantasy I shouldn’t indulge but do.
Alone in the dark I’m tormented by a Cassie who’s equal parts fantasy and memory. Hot, satin skin yields under my hands, quivering at my touch. The taste of her sweetens my tongue, invading my senses. The lush heat of her surrounds me as if she’s really here, pressed up next to me in this bed. In my ears is the sound of her breathless voice begging
Grady, please, let me touch you
. My fist becomes her practiced hand and I give her what she’s asking for.
May 1996
Cassie
The flowers sit untouched in their cello wrapping on my lap, the satin ribbon coming untied. They’re beautiful, but I’m still furious with Grady. When he called me, I almost said no. Almost. But he said he had something important to tell me and I wanted to hear what the asshole had to say.
Two weeks ago we had a huge fight. I had just gotten my freshman welcome packet from Ohio State and was super-excited about it. But Grady was in a pissy mood. We were supposed to have a date that night, but all we did was argue. We ended up yelling at each other, and when I told him we should just break up if our relationship was so much trouble, he shocked me by agreeing.
So we broke up. And it’s been thirteen miserable days.
A tiny part of me knows why. I know this is hard for him, because it’s just as hard for me. No one I know who already went off to college attached is still with their boyfriend or girlfriend, and I can’t bear the thought of us breaking up. I try to focus on the happy parts of this - new school, new friends, getting out of our small town.
But the rest of me needs him to explain. I’m not stupid; I know how cute Grady is, and I know there are girls lined up just waiting for me to go off to college so they can get their claws in him. Maybe he’s not ready to be tied down just yet. Maybe he just can’t say that to me, and he’s waiting for us to just fade out so he doesn’t have to break up with me.
I just want to hear him say the words.
“Just let me explain,” he says, and his voice cracks.
“So talk.” I look out the car window and keep my hand limp when he takes it in his, even though it’s killing me not to look at him when he’s touching me.
“This has been the worst two weeks of my entire life.”
I say nothing. He doesn’t need to know that they’ve been the worst two weeks of mine, too. He doesn’t need to hear that I cried myself to sleep every night, that I can barely eat because even the simple pleasure of food feels like a betrayal to my heart. That my lungs won’t expand anymore and I feel like I’ve lost the ability to breathe. He lost that right two weeks ago when he said it didn’t matter if I broke up with him or not.
“I’ve missed you so much, Cass. I was so mad when you threatened to break up with me. I couldn’t even stand the thought of it. I figured maybe a break would be good for me. I thought I could forget you for just a little while. I had every plan to find some girl, any willing girl, and just—”
Something new in his voice makes me turn my head, and I see that he’s angry. He chokes back the words and then spits them out. “Just fuck her. I was going to fuck some other girl to get back at you for leaving me.”
Bile rises in my throat at his admission. I scramble for the door handle but he hits the power locks and grabs my wrist. “Please. Just listen. Just let me explain!” I struggle against him for a moment and then give up and lean against the door, my heart pounding.
“I didn’t,” he reassures me. “I went to a party and kissed someone, but it just made me sad.”
“Is that the stupid slut you went on a date with?” Oh, yeah. He doesn’t know I know about that. But nothing happens in this town without everyone knowing about it in five seconds.
His ears get red and I realize he probably wasn’t going to mention that particular detail. Asshole. “Uhh… No. That was— I went to the movies with Jana Lott.”
“Did you fuck her?”
“At the movies?” he asks incredulously, obviously forgetting some of the things we’ve done in movie theaters over the past seven months.
I glare at him and he looks away, out his window this time.
“No,” he murmurs.
I don’t believe him. “You did,” I spit, turning to my own window. “I hate you so much right now.” I can’t control the tears streaming down my face or the hollow twisting in my chest, worse than any pain I have ever felt. My nose is running and I want to smash his face into the windshield. And then go find the stupid slut he went to the movies with and smash her face, too.
“Cass, I didn’t, I swear to God. I never touched her. I never touched anybody. I wanted to, for spite, but I didn’t. I couldn’t.”
“Well, thanks for making such a big sacrifice.”
He rankles at my sarcasm and his mouth twists. “You started all this, you know, talking about going away to school. I know it’s going to happen, but you don’t have to rub my fucking face in it.”
“What?” I whirl on him. “Rub your face in it? Are you smoking crack? When did I ever rub your face in it?”
“You’re so fucking happy about it!” he shouted. “Fucking Ohio. It’s all you ever talk about. Except with me. With me you pretend it isn’t even happening. But I’m not stupid, Cass. You can’t wait to get rid of me!”
“I
am
happy about it,” I reply, stung by his words. “Because I’m proud I got in, Grady. Not because I want to get rid of you.”
“I hate the thought of you going away. It’s not that I don’t want you to go to college. Obviously. But it’s not going to be the same. You’re gonna meet other guys there—”
He chokes on his words and I realize he’s about to cry. I’m filled with horror.
“I’m a whole year behind you,” he murmurs sadly. “A lot can happen in a year, Cass.”
“Don’t.”
“You’re going to date other guys, kiss other guys…”
“Grady, don’t!”
But he doesn’t stop. “I thought I would be your first and your last, and now that’s never going to happen. That’s why I was so pissed at you.”
He’s breaking my heart, but his logic is insane. He’s mad at me for something I haven’t even done yet, something I hadn’t even planned to do. “If you think I’m just going to dump you for some college guy anyway then what does it matter?” I flare. “We already broke up - why not just be done with me?”
“Because I can’t!” he yells, his red-rimmed eyes burning into mine. “When I told you it didn’t matter I didn’t mean
you
don’t matter. I meant no matter what you do, no matter what I do, no matter what we say we are or aren’t, we belong to each other for life, Cass. There isn't going to ever be anyone else for me to belong to.”
If I hold myself any more tightly I may shatter into a million little pieces. The effort it takes not to obliterate into a dust cloud right now is beyond anything I thought I had in me.
My voice is small when I finally respond. “Right now it doesn’t feel like we belong to each other. It feels like we never belonged to each other.”
“Do you want that?” His eyes plead with me and he takes my fingers in his and squeezes.
I squeeze back but my words are held hostage in my throat, so I just shake my head.
“I don’t want to break up. I miss you. I need you.” He wraps his arm around my shoulders and tugs me toward him, his other hand pulling my face toward his. “We belong together, Cass,” he murmurs tearfully against my lips.
It’s those words that undo me. “I want to belong to you! I want you to belong to me!” I sob into his mouth, the salt of my tears mixing with the spearmint taste of his gum. The flowers crush between us and I pull them free and toss them into the backseat. Grady hauls me over him and reclines his seat so I’m straddling him, one leg crushed against the door.
“I love you, Cassie,” he breathes against my eyelashes. “I can’t lose you. Please. Please.”
I’m crying so hard I almost miss the fact that he just told me he loves me. I haven't heard those words in fourteen days. “Tell me again.”
“I love you. You know I do. I love you so much, Cass.”
“I love you too,” I sob. “I don’t want anyone but you, I swear, Grady.”
I feel him hard beneath me, and when I wriggle against him he moans my name into my mouth. His hands slip inside my shirt and his fingers have never felt so good on my skin. It’s as if every inch of me is bruised and bloody and his touch is the only thing that can heal me. He moves under me as he strokes me back to health, whispering things that I don’t dare respond to. If I speak the magic will disappear, so I gather his words into my heart and lock them there.
Cassie
A powerful pressure between my thighs wakes me up. There’s a swollen, pleasurable fullness in my groin that’s only partially due to my need to pee. My nipples are hard points, scratched to a hyper-sensitive state by my t-shirt. I treat myself to a long, sensual stretch, hoping the slow movement of my limbs will ease the ache, but all it does is intensify my need.
It’s still pretty dark outside and the house is silent. As my eyes adjust to the light, my brain slowly rouses too, reminding me that this intense rush of sexual desperation is right on target. I’m ovulating is all. For about two days per month I want to fuck anything that moves and plenty of things that don’t, and that’s where I am this morning. If I were at home I’d indulge myself in a long, hot, showerhead-assisted soak until I was ready to face the day, but I’m not at home and Donna has a woefully insufficient and attached showerhead. So my hand it is.
When I slide my fingers inside my panties I’m hot and slick and even my own touch feels like a heavenly indulgence. It’s not going to take me long although I may have more than one or two orgasms in me. That’s okay. Whatever it takes so I won’t walk around all day in a perpetual sex-starved haze. I have too much shit to do to be a slave to my own libido today.
Grady’s scent wafts to my nostrils. At first I think I’m imagining things, but then I realize that touching him last night marked me somehow. I can’t distinguish any particular spot on my clothing that smells like him, but cedar and musk invade my senses, a powerful suggestion of him that sharpens my greed. Last night comes back to me in a flood of multi-sensory memories - the tortured look in his blue eyes, the unbearable softness of his fingertips on my skin, the need in his raspy voice. They invoke my confusion and my acquiescence right before we were interrupted by the damn dog.
He would’ve kissed me. Right there, if Ares hadn’t barked, Grady would’ve pressed his lips to mine. He would’ve done it softly, like the first time. Just brushing his mouth against mine, no tongue just yet, a slow and sensuous nibble. My breath quickens as I close my eyes and imagine the taste of his breath, the relief when his tongue finally probes my mouth, requesting access. I imagine our kiss deepening, his grip on my hip tightening. My body sings with the memory of the beautiful, sharp pain that shot right between my thighs when he touched me. His tortured voice groans my name and I feel myself flooding with arousal.
When I roll to my stomach and bury my face in the pillow the scent of him intensifies. I imagine lying on top of him like I used to, skin to skin, my breasts pressed against his chest, my face buried in his neck. His cock inside me at the perfect angle, so that with just a minimal rocking of my hips he’s hitting exactly the right spot, the place my fingers greedily explore now. In my fantasy Grady twines his hand in my hair and pulls my face until it’s right above his, our lips almost touching. He looks starved for me, his gaze heated, as if his only purpose is to pleasure me endlessly. His lips crush over mine as I clench my teeth around a mouthful of the pillow and silently shatter.