“Whew. You taste good,” he says, kissing me again before pulling away and licking his lips. “Is that brown sugar?”
“I may have made cookies before I left,” I hint.
“If you made chocolate chip cookies and didn’t bring me any, we may have to just go our separate ways.” Those are his favorites, I remember.
“Of course, they’re intended to be for you, but there is such a thing as a cooling period, you know,” I counter.
He smiles and we turn our attention out onto the city. On the sun setting slowly, melting away into the sky. A mixture of reds, blues, and oranges, all turning and twisting into each other. A masterpiece.
I look to River, another masterpiece.
Just as I’m about to ask about his family, the rooftop door opens with a loud screech and two men dressed in suits carry large trays to a table.
“Thanks, guys!” River stands up, shaking each of their hands. “Really appreciate you doing this for us.” When they retreat back inside, River makes a show of revealing what’s under the silver cloche, lifting it up dramatically, and taking a bow.
I look at him in disbelief. Grilled cheese sandwiches. I run over to peel the bread back on mine, and spy bacon and ketchup on the inside. A wave of nostalgia hits me as I remember the night, so many years ago, when I had burnt the spaghetti and he had to come through with the save. At the time, I felt so stupid and silly, until he revealed that the only thing he knew how to make was grilled cheese sandwiches.
River sits down and I bend down, kissing him once before sitting across from him. His grilled cheese is plain, like a psychopath, but I still love him despite it.
My mind takes pause. I still love him? Thank Jesus Christ that was an internal thought. Why the hell did I just think that? No. Nope. Stop it.
“You okay?” he asks, reading me like only he can.
I shake it off, doing what I do best and pushing the thought away. “Of course. Riv, this is perfect, and you are wonderful. I forgot how great you were, honestly.” I smile softly. “If I hadn’t forgotten, the years would have passed much slower, I’m sure.”
I find my eyes wandering to his mouth often, thinking about how much I want to be on top of him, kissing him, and intertwined with him once again. I have to almost force myself to stop thinking like this; I don’t want to start drooling.
By the time the sun is fully down and stars are visible in the night sky, we’re lying on the exact same plaid blanket we used to lie on.
“You’ve kept it this entire time? Like at your parents’ place?” I ask him, truly wondering.
“No, it came with me. I’ve always had it. This thing is special to me.” I know exactly what he means, but he continues anyway. “Do you remember that we were wrapped in this blanket the first time we were intimate? Or how we cuddled in this while we sat up on that bench,” he points, “and you told me you wanted to be a writer? That you wanted to help people escape from their worlds and into better ones.”
“Yes,” I whisper to him. All the feelings I’ve been containing are threatening to spill over now, too much pressure bubbling beneath my surface to hold them in. Tears, really big tears, spill down my cheeks, and I struggle against a whimper that’s begging for release.
“Oh, no. Did I upset you?” River sits up on one arm, resting his weight on his elbow, visibly upset himself.
“No.” I shake my head through the tears, trying to find the right words to explain my overflow of emotions in this moment. “I’m happy.” I smile at him, so he knows that I’m being honest. “I’m happy, but I’m scared too, if I’m being honest with you.”
He asks, “Why scared?”
“Because I’m having this internal struggle of how this can work when it didn’t before.” He looks let down. “I want this to work,” I tell him quickly. “I just worry. It makes me nervous.”
“I understand the hesitation, but we won’t know if we don’t try. We were in high school, Ave. That was a lifetime ago. I’d like to think things are different now. Aren’t they?” He sighs, taking both of my hands in his, underneath the stars, on the same rooftop we were on so many years ago. “Promise me one thing,” he says. “Just don’t run. We can figure everything out. Just don’t run from this again; don’t run from me again.”
I nod my reply and we make love on the rooftop. It’s better than I ever could have imagined, connecting to River’s mind and his body. To feel his skin on mine so intimately.
I’m hooked on River. In the best possible way.
Track Thirty: I Know You’re Fucking Someone Else
by Type O Negative
AVA
River and I fall into a rhythm with ease over the next few months. To make up for all our time apart, we keep busy, spending nearly every moment together. Dinners at my place, long nights at his. My parents invite us over for dinner and my dad looks really good. There’s color in his cheeks, which is always a welcome surprise.
We visit some of our old favorite spots; among them, the record store we went to weekly when we were in high school. When we go, without fail, we pick out one new record each. The Vinyl Kitty was, and still is, one of my favorite places in the world. Back then, River and I were super cool, and records weren’t popular. CDs were the big thing, but hip kids with Converse and black leather jackets always congregated in record stores.
That was us.
Well, for the most part. I traded in my Converse for black combat boots and often paired them with floral dresses and my same leather jacket, just to be a rebel. River still wears Converse occasionally, but he has a new leather jacket.
This morning, we wake up in his bed after a fun night out and shower together—something that’s become one of my favorite ways to start the day. He always lets me stand under the waterhead first. We’d get done much sooner if it weren’t for all the caressing, kissing, and touching.
River’s hands on my skin ignites a spark inside of me that I can’t deny, that I don’t want to deny. He runs both hands along my arms as the water flows down our naked bodies, and my eyes are drawn to his perfect mouth. His lips slightly part and I flick my eyes up to his, knowing he’s caught me.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, his eyes wildly looking me up and down. “How’d I get so lucky?”
I grin at him, loving the way the warm water mixed with his body pressed against mine feels. Instead of answering him, I reach up and cup his face, and pulling it toward mine. I press my lips to his, gently.
I feel him grow hard against my thigh and a passion takes over that I can’t control. I wrap my arms up and around his neck and pull him flush against me, my body aching for him as it often does.
“Mmmm, Ava. You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” he asks. I know exactly what I do to him.
I buck my hips up as he runs just one single anxious finger down my slit. I let out a small moan as he slips it inside of me, working me slow and steady. The way River makes me feel is almost euphoric, my body on fire, burning with desire for him.
His lips make their way away from mine after one last bite of my bottom lip. Moving down my neck, he finds my nipples and goes back and forth between the two, giving them an equal amount of attention as he rolls his tongue over my right nipple, thumbing my left with his free hand. Everything about River is sexy, always has been. I remember the way he paid attention to every small detail the first time we made love. He’s the same type of lover now, taking his time with me.