Page 9 of Floodgates

“I don’t know. There’s something, I’m just not sure what.”

I reached up then, and with one hand in a cast and the other taped up with tubes coming out of it, put both around the back of his neck. It was so strange to be touching him so intimately, to be thinking of kissing a man I hardly knew. Normally there were steps to a seduction, but my rulebook had gone right out the window.

“You’re going to follow me home?”

“I’d like to.”

“Why?”

“I just have to.” He looked perplexed, almost annoyed. “I can’t promise I will feel like this tomorrow,” he said honestly, “because this has never happened to me before, and I’m not really sure what it is.”

“Like, maybe it might wear off in a while, and you’ll want to get the hell away from me?” I teased him, as was my way, at the same time holding my breath.

“Yeah,” he said softly, his voice husky. “Maybe.”

There was a long silence before I spoke again. “I feel like I’ve known you a long time.”

He nodded. “I feel the same.”

Like old love, not new love. Not love at first sight, more like love rediscovered. An “oh it’s you” love. Comfortable even before it began. I pulled him down to me and breathed him in before I kissed him. No awkward moment, no jerky movement of uncertainty, no inhibitions. We fit. I felt it, he felt it. I relaxed; I sighed in his arms and held him tight. He would not get away from me. Not that he seemed to want to go anywhere. But he was right; it could wear off, the feeling of homecoming, and it finally did two years later, the day I walked into my house and my life changed. As days went, it had been one of my worst. The relationship ended as it began: surprisingly.

“Tracy!” Breckin’s sharp tone jarred me back to the present.

“Sorry, my mind wandered.”

“No, I’m sorry, forgive me,” he pleaded.

“It’s fine, but I was just making conversation,” I explained. “I wasn’t accusing you of anything.”

“No, I know you, I overreacted and… I just don’t want you to think that there’s been anyone at all since we’ve been apart.”

“Okay.”

“You don’t believe me.”

“It’s not really any of my business,” I reminded him.

He coughed softly. “I’ll get on the first plane out and—”

“Don’t, there’s no need. I’m really all right. Just come home on Friday like you planned.”

“I won’t be in until late, or I’d come by and see you.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Could I see you Saturday night?”

“Actually, I’m supposed to go out with Matt, Ira, and Eric on Saturday. We’re meeting some of Ira’s new girlfriend’s friends at Mabon.”

“Oh?”

“Did you follow that?” I teased him.

“I did. I speak Tracy. Can I come?”

“Sure,” I replied after a minute. “But you have to remember that Matt’s still Matt, right?”

“Meaning he’s still pissed at me,” he stated.