Chapter Forty-One

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Chapter Forty-One

TPOV

Have you ever reached a point where you’re sort of completely beyond all thought?  I can honestly say it’s only happened to me on a few occasions.  And most of them weren’t good things.  There’s a big difference between the kind of shut-down that happens when something is so bad you can’t imagine anything else, and all thinking, all reflection, all attention just stops; and a state of sort of surreal, but incredible enhancement.  Where all that thought just gets set aside.  Or maybe it’s more that all that thinking and reflection and attention is racing so fucking hard that it makes one thing easier to concentrate on.  

That’s what this felt like now.  Different, but better.  Enhanced.  That despite the fact that my mind and body were quite possibly overloading with all the thoughts and emotions flooding everything, everything seemed calm and serene…

…as long as calm and serene were like the hugest fucking chaotic explosion of brilliant, terrifying, devotional energy ever.  

I’m not sure what level of accountability a guy can be held to for things he might say during this state.  No matter how true the things he’s saying might be.  There might be some unwritten rule that things uttered during or after the most incredible orgasm of his life are in some category all their own.  

In a lot of ways, this almost felt like the first time we ever had sex.  And of course, that was completely ridiculous because we had sex a lot recently.  Like, a lot, a lot.  So I don’t know what it was exactly, or rather, I knew exactly what it was, but… Jesus, guys in these states shouldn’t attempt to compile cohesive thoughts.  

It was a lot of things.  It was that I’d never had this with anyone else.  I’d never gotten to this stage before.  It was odd to think what was basically her first relationship ever wound up being my most serious and responsible one.  It was the way she’d prepared everything for me, actually taken the time to think things out, or think things beyond something trivial and ordinary.  Or that it was so ordinary and original and normal, but yet completely different.  It was the way she looked at me this time.  The way nothing was funny, and she was paced just as slowly as I had intended to be.  It was the way she touched me.  The difference between our first tentative touches, the middle and right up until last night when things were affectionate and tender—now her hands on me were damn near reverent, adoring—something much more like loving.  There was a huge difference between affectionate and loving.  It was the way she made me feel like she was memorizing every single detail.  The way her legs wrapped around me, so tight and inviting, and the perfect balance of that adoring and loving touch with a needy grasp mixed in.  How she could be everything I wanted and needed all at once, and made me feel like I was capable of giving that back to her.  

I can’t say that it also wasn’t completely tied to how this was going to end.  It wasn’t just about the staggering amount of intimacy, either.  It was, of course, knowing she wanted to share it with me—the intensity, the emotionalism.  I was her first everything.  That she wanted me to be, was just… that I was, was just… I can’t even begin to explain.  But I’d be lying if it wasn’t just a little bit about the actual physicality of it, too.  Because, I mean, there’s really nothing more, nothing better, or further you can take it.  And I’m still a guy.  So that’s pretty much the best thing, the only thing that’s innately that primal.  I don’t even know.  How do you really explain the best thing ever?

Feeling her come on me, without any barrier, there was no possible way I wasn’t going to come.  And I wouldn’t have wanted it a different way.  Knowing that she could feel me coming inside her while I was feeling her come around me, seeing and feeling it together, and both of us getting swept away by it while still being totally present—complete brain disintegration.  

I’m pretty sure it was the longest fucking orgasm of my life.  And we’re talking felt everywhere.  I don’t think there was one place in my body that I didn’t feel the throb of my release, and anywhere I didn’t, I could feel hers.  

I was shaking.  Totally, completely shaking.  Not a lot, but enough to be noticeable, and if she did, she didn’t say anything.  But I also didn’t mind the way her arms tightened on me either.  And I loved that we basically never stopped kissing the entire time.  

What can you possibly say after that?  It’s a moment one step farther than beyond all thought.  It’s a continuous, non-sounding hum.  

She was smiling at me.  Like, a gentle, placid, deliriously happy kind of smile in between slower kisses.  I don’t even know if I was capable of smiling at this point.  I just knew that I was still completely inside her, and neither of us had made any attempt to move, and the only adjustment I made was so that we were that much closer which basically was only millimeters closer than we were anyway, and she was still completely wrapped around me, her hands in my hair and stroking my face, her fingertips curling under my jaw, her thumb running over my lips.

“I love you.”

It kind of just came out.  All that time I spent keeping it bottled up, I mean, I couldn’t think of a better time really to say it, but I hadn’t planned it.  I just couldn’t stop it anymore.  Because looking at her right now, she couldn’t get any more mine.  And I couldn’t get any more hers.  It sort of seemed like some kind of unspoken official commitment.  Not that we weren’t committed before, or that I could see an official commitment right now—not in that sense, but I knew I never wanted to be without her.  

Her face sort of registered this plethora of emotions.  The smile was still firmly in place, but there was a little bit of confusion and shock mixed in there.  She opened her mouth to say something and then closed it again.  

“You don’t have to say anything,” I said quickly.  “I mean, you don’t have to say it back.  I don’t—that’s not why.  I just…  I mean, I wanted to say it.  Before.  Already.  A lot.  But I didn’t want to make you…”  God, I should just stop the verbal drivel.  I don’t even know what I was going to say.  Make her uncomfortable?  Put her on the spot?  Force something she wasn’t ready to say to me?  

“No, it’s fine.  I’m just surprised.  I…I want to say it back, Tyler.  I just…”

“You don’t have to say it.”  

“I want to.”

I nodded for a second before switching to a head shake instead.  “That’s not why I said it.”

“I know.  Just give me a little more time.”

“Yeah, I can wait.” Pretty sure I could wait forever for her.  I would.  

She smiled wider.  “Tyler?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

I smiled back at her.  “Of course.  You’re welcome.”  Pretty sure that was the first time ever that anyone had actually thanked me for loving them, too.  

It wasn’t something I said often.  I could really only come up with family that I’d said it to.  Or at least those were the ones I meant it when I said it.  I think she knew that, though.  It wasn’t something I took lightly.  It felt right with her.  

“Thank you for tonight—for everything.  The dinner and…”  I smiled, thinking about the lingerie.  “Did you have the lingerie?  Or did you go try on a bunch of shit?”

She laughed, clamping on me in more than one way, which just made me want to hold her tighter, and I could, so I did.  “I didn’t have it.  I went past the store on my way to get food for tonight, and saw a window display, and then I was pretty much trying on all sorts of shit.”  

“It was a great choice,” I said, nodding and kissing her quickly.  

“Thanks.  I thought so.  There is a lot of sluttly lingerie.  And coming from me, that’s saying something.  I liked the purple.  It felt very me.”

“It is,” I agreed.  “You know you wore purple on our first date…”

“I did?”

“Yeah, it was purple and black and strappy, with a V-neck.”

“And you remember that?”

“I remember everything.”

She smiled at me, soft and warm, pressing her lips to mine.  It was the kind of smile she got when I was being sentimental and she usually called me a dork.  She didn’t this time, though.  Settled on, “You do have a very good memory,” instead.

“You didn’t wear a bra either.”

Her burst of laughter to that statement made her tighten on me again, and I couldn’t stop the moan that time, kissing her again impulsively.  

“I see why you remember it now.”

“Mmm.  We ate at that Chinese place on Lexington, and you were really difficult to talk to, insofar as you basically snapped at me or refused to answer any question I posed.  Hostile even.”  I paused and then added, “And then you randomly asked me if I liked sports.”

She ran her fingers through my hair, giggling.  “Yeah, you stuck it out.  But I did buy you pie and ice cream was not optional.”

“Ha!  See!  You remember!”

“Of course I remember.  I just don’t necessarily remember the bra-less shirt I was wearing.”

“Leave those important details to me.”

“I have no doubt you’ll remember the important details.”

“I wrote to Michael about you that night.”

Her head cocked a little to the side, but her hands didn’t move from where they’d settled on my neck, playing with the ends of my hair.  “You did?”

I nodded.

“What did you write to him?”

“Just that you were different, and really guarded, and I wanted you not to be with me.  That I nearly fucked it all up but I wanted it to work because I thought you were amazing and great.”

“I freaked out about what I should wear on a date.  Jordan had a lot to do with what I wore.  She also gave me conversation tips.  The sports one—that was her.”

I smiled at her admission, offering something to me, too.  I loved how much that had changed.  “What’s your favorite color?” I asked softly.

“Today, I think it’s purple.”

“Good answer.  Purple is definitely becoming one of my favorites.”  I shifted while she smiled back at me. “Do you want me to move?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head slowly, smile still in full force.

“Can I look?  Is that kind of moving ok?”

She changed to the same kind of slow nodding.  “Yeah, that you can move for.”

I didn’t need to be told twice, but eased back, pulling out slowly, and watched as a rivulet of my come leaked out after me.  I was torn with the idea of just watching it all leak out, or swiping at it with my fingers.  She beat me to the latter, making a broad swipe and bringing it right up to her mouth, sucking me off of her fingers.  I couldn’t even… Speaking was not possible.  And her grin was just… I couldn’t even begin to fathom how much of a fucking turn-on it was just to know my come was inside her.  But then to add her licking it off of her fingers after—when I hadn’t even made that connection intellectually because my brain was basically five or ten minutes behind with my dick…

All I could think was how much I wanted to do it again.  To leave more of myself there.  

If her massively mischievous grin was any indication, her thoughts were similar.  If I had any doubt, the simple utterance of one singular word put that to rest:  “More.”

Really, I think I lost count as to how many times and ways and positions “more” really meant.  

The last time, before I fell asleep, I was behind her, spooned around her much tinier form, and I loved many things about this position.  I loved that I could observe everything while still having access to most places, and I loved how easy it was.  It was sensual without losing the sexiness.  I could touch her everywhere, and still get deeper than a lot of other positions.  She kind of had a thing for me taking her from behind, too, so that was just another perk.  

My fingers had been rubbing over her clit, pushing her body to come with me.  After the orgasms subsided, I kept a rhythm of lazy strokes for a while because I didn’t really feel like being completely done, and there was never a complaint from her to pull out right after.  I think we both liked the extended connection—the way it seemed like it was never really over.  

When I did pull out, I think it was merely to satisfy a rapidly forming kink that I hadn’t known I had.  My hand hadn’t moved from the general vicinity of her clit.  She was too sensitive for actual manipulation right now, but I kept my hand splayed out over her lower stomach.  It was only another small shift to drop my hand a little lower.  Funny thing was, just as my hand was drifting there, hers was, too, and our fingers tangled together to feel the evidence of both of our releases.  It was addictive—the knowledge, the feeling of the palpable stickiness leaking out of her.  And I loved that she obviously found it so, too.  

I really didn’t want to sleep, but it sort of became a necessity at some point.  It wasn’t like it was difficult to do so being all wrapped around her; it felt like everything between us was intertwined.  I loved her so much.  I wanted to tell her again.  I sort of wanted to tell everyone I knew, or didn’t know.  I didn’t really care.  I settled for pressing a kiss into her temple instead, loving the way she burrowed back into me.  

~ooOoo~

APOV

I couldn’t sleep.   I don’t think it was physically possible to sleep with this much shit running through my head.  Tyler was wrapped around me, warm and solid and completely passed out, and it wasn’t because there was a lack of appeal to sleep.  But I couldn’t turn my brain off.  The last few hours just keep replaying like a recording in my mind.  It wasn’t a bad way to spend time; it was just the next best night in a never-ending series of them with Tyler.  

He loved me.  He loves me.  He loves me.  He loves me.  

I couldn’t remember anyone ever saying they loved me, or me saying it back.  I never wanted to say it to someone, but I wanted to say it to Tyler.  I wanted to say it back to him.  God, what the fuck did I know about love, even?  Did I love Tyler?  If I wanted to say it back, did that mean that I loved him?  Had I ever loved anyone?  How do you know what that feels like?  How do you know you’re in love with someone?  What does love feel like?  How did he know he loved me?  

I didn’t really think it was...proper to ask.  I mean, I couldn’t just ask him to explain all of his feelings to me.  It didn’t seem like it was time to do that.  He was sure; I could see it in his eyes just like I could hear it in his voice.  He loved me.  

I loved my mother; I knew that much.  But she was my mom—kids love their moms.  I think I loved my grandmother, too, but I almost remembered less of her than I did about my mom.  It was a kid thing—a kid love.  I didn’t know what it felt like to love someone now.  I still loved my mom of course, but I didn’t know what that felt like as an adult.  She was gone.  I loved the idea I had of her.  I never really got to know her.  So I didn’t know what it was like to love someone as an adult.  

I just didn’t know what to do with it.  Or how to find out.  

Did I feel things with Tyler?  For Tyler?  Absolutely.  Did I have—I don’t even know, attachment to him?  Obviously.  But was that love?  How do you feel that?  How do you feel love?  How do you know?  Is it just a belief thing?  Like, I thought I did, so I could be?  Was it about trust?  I trusted Tyler.  Was it knowing things about him that no one else did?  I did.  But if it was that simple… It couldn’t be that simple.  

I didn’t know who I could even ask about it, because I really didn’t think it was fair to ask Tyler to help me figure out if I loved him.  I knew he’d do it, but I just didn’t want to put him in that place.  And I was sort of scared of the answer.  Loving someone was kind of scary.  It meant you were making a different level of commitment.  And did I think that I was already at that kind of level with Tyler?  I… Yeah, I did.  I wondered if Tyler was scared to love me, too?  People left him; they died—people he loved.  Was it hard for him to love me?  Or was it easier because he loved more people that I did?  How did he get past that then to tell me anyway?  What did it take?  

I didn’t want to say it to him until I was sure.  I owed him that much.  We’d always been honest.  I wanted to be honest about this, too.  

I snuck out from Tyler’s arms, too restless now to sit still.  I didn’t want to wake him.  I threw on one of his shirts and grabbed my phone, and went out into the living room, pacing while staring at it in my hand, willing it to give me someone to call.  I thought about calling Jordan because she and Tyler seemed ok with each other, but I didn’t know if that was something I wanted to talk to her about.  I didn’t have parents to call, or brothers and sisters.  I didn’t really have anyone else besides Tyler himself.  

I think I sort of dialed without realizing.  

“Hello?”

I swallowed once thickly.  Talking had to happen now.  “Hi.”

There was a tiny pause before, “Allison?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”  I smiled into the phone.  “How…how are you?”

“I’m good.  I’m good.  It’s been a while.”  

“I know.”

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m ok.”  

Silence.  We were such great conversationalists.  

“Do you need help?”

Ever to the rescue.  In a lot of ways I owed him a whole fucking lot.  In a lot of ways I owed him my life now.  Because without him, I wouldn’t have gotten out of NOLA.  “No…I guess I need…advice?”  I hadn’t really meant that to be a question.  And God, it was probably really pathetic and sad that his first reaction after how many months of no contact was to just automatically assume I needed help.  I also panicked, looking at the clock suddenly.  It way so fucking early—I was kind of shocked he even answered.  He didn’t seem at all put out though, so I didn’t bring it up.   

“Oh.”  There was another pause.  “About what?”

“Are you still in love with Lois?”  Jesus Fucking Christ, Allison.  Way to just barrel in with no fucking warning.  If I could have shown him my forehead slap, I would have.  He probably heard me do it anyway.  If the silence after said anything.  

“Um…”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.  I just… I don’t know.  I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s ok.  I’m just a little surprised.  Um…”  He sighed.  “I think love changes over time.”

“Ok.”  That wasn’t really the answer I was looking for.  Fuck.  Did I even know what I was looking for?

“No, I mean, I love her, yes.  I’m still in love with her.”

“Ok.”

“What’s this about?”

“How do you know you are?”

“Know I’m what?”

“In love with her.”

He chuckled.  “Allison, are you in love with someone?”

“I dunno, I dunno.  I dunno how it’s supposed to feel.  Or how I’d know.  How did you know you loved Lois?  How do you still know?  And what do you mean ‘it changes?’”

“Well, ok.  Let’s take them one at a time.”

“Ok.”

“So, I’m not sure how anyone can really describe feeling in love.  I think I loved Lois after our first date.”  

“How?”

“Well, I don’t know exactly.  I mean, I guess, I just felt differently about her right away.”

Ugh.  “Felt how?”

He sighed, thinking a minute.  “She walked in the door, right?  And my stomach, ya know, flipped kinda.  She made me nervous as hell, and I thought she was the most interesting person I’d ever met.  I kept getting tongue-tied and I couldn’t think.  And I couldn’t stop thinking about her after I dropped her off.”  

I was thinking.  Thinking back to the first time I ever met Tyler.  And I sort of forgot Doug was there for a second.

“Allison?”

“Yeah, sorry.  I was just thinking back.”

“Is that… Did you have that, too?  Or…”

“No…not really.  I mean, he was different.  Kind of.”  I laughed a little to myself.  “He was kind of a cocky asshole.”

“You fell in love with an asshole?”

I blew out a laugh.  “He’s not really an asshole.  I just thought that when I met him because he was cocky and didn’t seem… I don’t know how to explain it really.”

“Now who’s the one that can’t explain?  How?” he mimicked.  

“Shut up,” I said, teasing.  

“Try to explain.  Maybe we can figure it out.”  

Yes.  Good.  Figuring it out with someone was good.  “Um, so yeah, I wasn’t that impressed when I met him.  He was very confident and I wasn’t really comfortable anyway, but my friend had dragged me to this stupid bar… He made me nervous.  And I never knew what to do.  I never really dated anyone before…”  I trailed off, pausing.  I trusted Doug completely, and I wasn’t afraid of him being judgmental, but editing that first…well everything, was probably necessary.  I just skipped ahead.  “Anyway, he’s actually pretty great.”

“What makes him ‘pretty great?’”  Doug parroted back to me.

“He’s sweet, and thoughtful, and he’s the most patient person in, like, the entire world.  No one has ever treated me the way he does.  Or no guy, anyway.”

“That’s good, right?”

“Yeah, it’s good.  Actually he’s pretty much the only other person than you to be decent to me.  Care about me.”

There was silence on the other end for a second, and then he cleared his throat.  “I do care about you.  A lot.”

“I know.”  

“Does he know what you do for a living?”

“Yes.”

“And he’s ok with that?”

“I don’t think he likes it, really, but he doesn’t tell me what to do.  Or that I shouldn’t have a job.  And he knows that it’s just a job for me.”  

“And does he know about your past?”

“Yeah, he knows about that, too.”  Neither of us said anything for a minute.  “He kind of reminds me of you sometimes.”

“Oh?  How’s that?  Did he force you to buy sheets and get dressed?”

I laughed.  “No, I had that all covered after your lessons.”

“Glad they worked for something.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“So, how does he remind you of me?”

“He cares.  He makes me want things for myself.  And he doesn’t ask for anything back.  He accepts me for just me.  I’ve never had that before.  Just…unconditionally, ya know?  You were the first person that didn’t want something from me.  He’s the first person that’s just wanted me for me.  He’s unbelievably understanding and he never judges me.”

“Those are all good things…” he trailed off.

“So how do you know?  How do I know if that’s love?”

“Well, I mean, I guess what I asked myself, or what I knew, was that I didn’t want to be without Lois.  Once we started dating, I didn’t want to be anywhere else.  I wanted to be with her all the time.  And we didn’t even need to be doing anything.  I just wanted to be with her.”

“I just want to be with Tyler, too.”

“Tyler, huh?”

I was smiling, and I think if he’d been standing in front of me, I would have been blushing.  I have no idea why. “Yeah, Tyler,” I said back quietly.  

“What does Tyler do?”

“He’s a student.  And he works at a bookstore.”

“What’s he studying?”

“Um, well…I don’t think he’s really figured that out yet.  He just takes classes that interest him.”

“Hmm.”

“What does ‘hmm’ mean?”

“Nothing, just covering my bases.  Making sure I approve and all.”

I chuckled.  “How’s he doing so far?”

“I dunno yet.  I’ll tell you later.”

“Fair enough.”  I was smiling into the phone, and I could tell he was, too.  

“Can I ask you something?” he said after a beat.

“Yeah, of course.”

“What made you call me and ask?”

“Well, I mean… I didn’t know who else to call.  I couldn’t think of anyone else to ask…” I trailed off, wondering now, if I shouldn’t have called, or if I was bothering him.

“No, no.  That’s not what I mean.  I’m glad you called.  I wish you’d call more.  I worry about you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.  I meant what brought on the asking?  Why did you question this now?  Have you been seeing this Tyler guy a long time?  You’ve never mentioned him before.”

“It’s been— ” I stopped to think a minute before continuing,  “around six months, I guess.”  I stopped and then started again, “Seems like it’s been a lot longer than that.”

“So…this is…this is serious then?”

“Yeah, I think it’s pretty serious.”

“Right, and you’re wondering now if you love him?”

“He told me he loves me.”  I suppose I should have mentioned that earlier.   Probably would have made this easier for him.  

“Got it.”  He was quiet for a minute, but I was sort of lost in thought myself.  

“I’ve never loved anyone before, Doug.  How do I tell?  There should be a fucking checklist or something.”

He chuckled.  “Well…”

“I want to say it back.”

“Ok.”

“But I want to mean it.  I’ve never felt like this before so I don’t know what to call it.  I dunno if what I feel is love.”

“Well what do you feel?”

“Shit I’ve never come close to before.  Everything.  He makes me feel everything.”  

He was quiet for a second and then, “I guess the only thing I’d be worried about is that this is basically your first relationship, you know?  You have to be able to tell if this is just attraction or lust, or if it’s something…more.  So, yeah.”  I could tell he was sort of hesitating, but he pushed through it.  “Allison, I guess I’d just make sure that it’s not about sex and the way you feel physically.  That’s not love.”

I was smiling at the way he was trying to be so… I mean, he’d seen me at one of my worsts—and I had several—so it wasn’t like we couldn’t be blunt.  “It’s not about sex.  I mean, sure, it is, but…that’s not all.  That’s actually pretty new.  I told him at the beginning that I hadn’t dated really before, and I knew that throwing sex in at the beginning would make it too confusing, or whatever you want to call it.  He was—he is—incredibly patient; and he never pushed me.  It was always my decision, which made it the complete opposite from when I was hooking.”

He chuckled.  “You almost sound like an adult.”

“Fuck you,” I said, but my tone was completely light and affectionate.  “I trust him, Doug.  I don’t trust people at all.  And I can talk to him about anything.  He knows everything about me, and still wants to be with me.  And I feel the same way about him.”  I sighed.  “He makes me feel safe.  And I feel like I’m myself with him.”

I got the feeling I was making him think a lot with my call.  Maybe this wasn’t something I should have expected him to just answer on the spot.  Maybe I should have laid out my problem and he could have gotten back to me.  I’d never been overly share-y about anything.  I never just called Doug to chat.  Our conversations were usually pretty short, and almost like I was checking in so they knew I was still alive.  It was very…distant, I guess.  It was me; I kept it that way.  This almost felt parental.  And I didn’t want to put Doug in that position really.  I basically left NOLA to avoid he and Lois putting themselves in that role.  I wasn’t looking for him to be my dad, but at the same time, I was asking him for something that went beyond what I usually did.  

Did people even talk to their parents about relationships like this?  Did they talk about sex and love?  Was that a normal thing to talk about?  Maybe it was odd for me to ask Doug in the first place, in any role I was putting him in or he was assuming.  

I started chewing on my thumbnail, waiting for him to say something.  I didn’t even notice when he actually started talking again.

“Allison?”

“Yeah, sorry.”

“How old is Tyler?”

I chuckled.  “He’s 22.”  I didn’t need to be next to him to see the quick but firm nod he made to that statement.  “I totally should have fucked with you there.”  

He laughed back into the phone.  “Yeah, if you wanna give an old guy a stroke, sure.”

“Tyler’s really a Wall Street lawyer I met on 32nd Avenue, he owns a penthouse, and he’s 39.  I think I’m in love.”

Laughter barked over the phone.  “I’d be on the first plane if that was the conversation we were having.”

“Yeah.  No worries.”  

“I can’t tell you what you feel, you know?  I can’t really tell you that you’re in love.  I think that’s something you just know.  And I realize that’s a shitty answer, but there is no one else that can tell you that.”  

“Yeah,” I said, sighing.  I figured that.  Just would have been nice if someone could have given me the answer.  “Thanks, anyway, Doug.  For listening.”

“For what it’s worth…I think the fact that you called about it all says pretty much about how you feel.  You’ve never called about it before.  So it was important enough for you to pick up the phone.  I dunno, I think you already know the answer.  I think you just wanted someone to bounce it off of.”  

I sighed again, but happier, easier.  I think that’s pretty much exactly what I needed to hear.  “Thanks, Doug.”

“Allison?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really glad you called.”

“Me, too,” I said back, and I really meant it.  

“I don’t just mean… It was really nice that you thought to ask me.”

I didn’t want to make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal that I called him; I didn’t have anyone else to call.  But I didn’t want him to think it was complete desperation that had me dialing, even if that was a tiny bit true.  He was literally the only person I thought of that could answer it for me.  “You were the only one I thought of,” I said instead, hoping that was a good way to tell him without all that other shit.

He cleared his throat.  “You should call more.  We like hearing from you anytime, of course, but…it’d be nice to hear from you more.  Just to let us know you’re ok.  Or I could call you…”  He left it hanging there for me to allow or not.

“Yeah, that’d be ok.  I’m sorry I don’t call more.”  

“No, it’s fine.  Just nice to hear from you.”

“How are you guys?  I didn’t even ask with my, just, blurting questions.”

“We’re good.  Thinking we might need to take a trip to New York.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, we haven’t been in years, and it’d be nice to see you.”

“It’d be nice to see you guys, too.”

“Yeah, and if your boyfriend happens to be available, we can have a little chat, too.”

I chuckled.  “Oh, that was very sneaky there.”

“I thought so.”

“Well you let me know when you want to have a little chat with Tyler.  I’ll give him a heads up.  But it’d be great if you guys came out.”

“I’ll talk to Lois and then give you a call.”

“I’ll talk to you soon then.”

We said our goodbyes and I was left to more thinking on the couch.  

The idea of Doug meeting Tyler was sort of unreal to me.  Like my past and present colliding.  Not that it was a bad thing, but it was just something I’d never had before either.  Lots of that going around.  I never needed love advice before.  I suppose these were actual positive problems to have—also something I never had before.  For once my life didn’t revolve around shit situations.  And it was nice to have someone you could call; maybe that was a change I could keep up—calling Doug more.  

I was still lost in thought when Tyler padded out of the bedroom in his boxers, yawning and still looking tired, hair a mess, but still with an air of freshly fucked.  It looked good on him.  He looked really happy.  

“Whatcha doin’ out here?  Why are you not in bed with me?”

I smiled, shaking my head.  “Just couldn’t sleep.  I didn’t want to wake you.”

He plopped down next to me.  “Hmm.”  His head rolled on the cushion.  “It’s almost morning.  You tired now?”

“Nope.” I shook my head again.  “I think I’m kinda wired now.”  

“Wanna watch the sun come up?  It’s pretty great from the roof.”

I mirrored my head on the couch like his, and nodded.  “Sure.”  

He grabbed a blanket, and my hand, and we wound up sitting like we had on the fourth of July—huddled under the blanket, on a lawn chair, me sitting on his lap.  

It was that time of morning where it gets kind of light out, but it’s all blue-purple before the first sun hits.  This city never really slept, and there were already people up early; the regular street noises sort of soothing in their repetitiveness.  We just sat for a while, not talking, just cuddling, and for all his talking and thinking, I loved that Tyler could be silent, too.  Especially if it was something like this—where just being together was all we needed.  It was really all we ever needed.  

He pressed a kiss to my temple, a silent way of breaking the silence before he asked, “You ok?”

“Yeah, I’m ok,” I answered quickly, nuzzling into his face.  “You?”

“I’m good.  You seem a million miles away.”

“Just thinking.”  

“Something I should know about?”

“No,” I started; leaving it open-ended because I wasn’t sure exactly what I should tell him.  I didn’t want to just spill my guts about my entire conversation with Doug.  

“You have any regrets about last night?”

“What?” That definitely wasn’t the impression I wanted him to have.  Maybe open-ended had been too much like a question.  I quickly said, “No.  Of course not,” with lots of head shaking.  “I’m just thinking about a lot of things.  Good things.”

“This about what I said last night?”

“They’re all good things I’m thinking about,” I said, in a way that was final.  I mean, it totally was about that—but not for the reason he was assuming now.  I didn’t want him to have regrets for saying it at all.  And I wanted to say it to him so badly.  I had everything Doug had said filtering through, and trying to sort out my own thoughts between them—how Doug thought I knew the answer.  And I think I did, too.  I just wasn’t sure what to do with it.  I didn’t know just how to say it.  How do you do that?  Do you just blurt it out?  Does it need some kind of introduction?  Tyler’s was perfect.  How did you make it perfect?  When was the perfect time?  

“Aaaaaand…”  He stretched out the word, not stopping until the first rays of the sun peaked out, “this marks the first morning after condom-less sex.”

I giggled at him.  “You’re such a dork.”  He let me off the hook, though.  Either not wanting to push me or assuming I was still processing.  

“What?  It’s true.  Brand new day.  New everything.”

“Isn’t that every morning?”

“Not in the same sense.”  

I let my head roll back and forth slowly on his shoulder.  

“What?”

“Nothing, you’re just really fucking sappy.”  

He tickled me.  “And that’s bad?”

“Stop it!  No, it’s not bad.  Just…you’re really fucking sappy,” I repeated.  

“Would you rather me grunt and roll over?”

I snorted.  “No.  It’s nice.”  

“Ok then,” he said, and I could tell he nodded in that smug, ‘yeah, I’m right,’ kind of way.  

It was really beautiful—the first rays of the sun and the warmth—warmth washing over us, warmth behind me, his arms tightening, thumb rubbing over my stomach.  I sighed.  Tyler who loved me.

One (Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen | Seventeen | Eighteen | Nineteen | Twenty | Twenty-One | Twenty-Two | Twenty-Three | Twenty-Four | Twenty-Five | Twenty-Six | Twenty-Seven | Twenty-Eight | Twenty-Nine |  Thirty  |  Thirty-One  |  Thirty-Two  |  Thirty-Three  |  Thirty-Four  |  Thirty-Five  |  Thirty-Six  |  Thirty-Seven  |  Thirty-Eight  |  Thirty-Nine  |  Forty  |  Forty-One  |  Forty-Two  |