The sexual angle to her behavior is not out of character for her either. I usually understood that it didn’t necessarily mean that she was horny, just trying to distract herself from whatever shitty thing her mom had done to her that week. But as a young man with a healthy libido, I was more than happy to oblige her.
Even during times when I should have been her friendinstead.
I remember with burning shame when her mom overdosed and had to stay in the hospital for a week. Sierra was relentless during it. Instead of trying to get her to talk like I should have, I was more than happy to let her take out her emotions on me with sex.
It wasn’t enough. The day before her mom was to be released, she propositioned some of my friends. She was hanging out with me at my house while I was playing an online shooter game with a few guys. I left to go to the bathroom, and when I returned, she was sitting in my chair, holding my gaming headset against her ears.
“One at a time or all at once, guys. I’m easy,” I overheard her offering with that unnatural bright glimmer in her eyes.
I yanked the headset off her head and plunked it down on mine. Through the headphones, I heard the soft background noises of the game, overlaid with a thick silence.
I had the presence of mind to play it off as a prank. “Gotcha,” I said.
There were a few awkward laughing groans and curses from the guys. I remember apologizing for the prank, logging off, and then unleashing on her.
I screamed at her for embarrassing me, for trying to cheat on me in such a terrible way. She swore that she was only trying to make me jealous, that she wanted to see what I would do.
So I made her get on her knees for me. “Is this what you want? To be treated and used like a whore?” I asked her as she gagged and choked.
Afterwards, she begged me not to break up with her when I threatened it. “I was…I was scared for my mom,” she said brokenly.
And I took her back. That was one of the worst times, but the worshipful way she looked at me for saving her from herself…I didn’t feel like I deserved it, but I reveled in it nonetheless.
Outside of these bad moments, and most of the time, our relationship was like a game. Light testing. Playful. I used to love how she would tease me and push my buttons, and she seemed to enjoy it when I would tease and torment her back.
Now, though, I have no idea what she is doing. She’s flirting like she used to do, then seems to lose her nerve. It can’t all just be her trying to process whatever trauma she’s reliving being back in Sagebrush. Surely, at least some of it means she wants me. There’s no way it was a perfectly platonic shower to her, right? And the erotic poetry and almost kissing after dancing…all her ideas that led to—at least for me—romantically charged moments.
And if she does, what then? The question isn’t whether I want her; it’s whether I should act on those feelings. I can’t make love to her—it will haunt me forever when she leaves again. Because it would be making love, not just sex. Some guys can compartmentalize; I’m not one of them.
I tried dating for a few years after Seth encouraged me.Just for fun, he said.Just have a drink and keep it light. Take a girl home if you’re both feeling it.
But I can’t keep it light, I never could. And, worse, I don’t want to—not if the girl is Sierra.
I glance over at her. She’s leaning toward the passenger mirror, applying lipstick to her plush lips with a deft hand. The late sun slides across her throat, down the curve of her shoulder, and I yearn to trace the sunlight’s path with myfingertips. Jesus, to touch her and kiss her like the sun is kissing her skin now.
I glance at the clock, then speed up. We will make it back before our guests start arriving, but just barely. I need to forget about it. Was that shower the most erotic experience I’ve had in years? Yes, but I can’t get distracted. I need to pull off a professional persona. Tented pants would ruin the illusion.
“Where are we going?” Sierra asks as I pull off and park behind a large boulder next to the pavilion.
“This will leave the parking lot for the guests,” I explain. “Come on. It’s showtime.”
Thirteen
Sierra
Biased I may be, but I think the event is an incredible success.
A local band called Midnight Bloom strums acoustic covers of romantic songs while guests dine on truffle oil appetizers, fresh pasta, and cheesecake. Seth and Emily came to help out and take turns leading small groups into the cave, while I hand out and light candles for each of the guests. There is even a marriage proposal in the cavern, and they agree to let us post some of the pictures we took on our social media.
By the end of the night, I am bursting with pride. Not just for what I contributed, but for what Logan has accomplished.
My eyes keep finding him as the event winds down. He’s everywhere—directing the caterers to pack extra food for the homeless shelter, checking in with the lighting team, and making sure the vendors leave with all their items.
My breath quickens as I watch him shake hands with the band, then hug Seth and Emily. Although he’s never said, I can tell that his family is who he really wants to impress, and more pride blooms in my chest. He’s the man of the hour, and I can tell he knows it by the way he is carrying himself. He looks self-assured. Confident.
It’s really sexy.
As sexy as he was in that shower. God, that shower. The image of him has been burned into my retinas. Logan, skin wet, water pouring down his defined chest and back, his biceps flexing as he washed his hair. I can feel myself blushing just thinking about it.
