Something Beautiful

  Shepley kissed the corner of my mouth. "I don't know. What would you do?"

  I blinked.

  Shepley's expression turned to horror. "Oh, shit. That just came out. I didn't mean it the way it sounded."

  I gripped my keys in my hand. "It's okay. I'll see you at home."

  "Baby," he began.

  But I was already halfway around the Honda.

  I sat in the worn driver's seat of my dilapidated hatchback, starting it even though I wanted to sit there for a while and cry. Shepley backed out, and I followed him.

  I wasn't sure what was worse--hearing the unintended truth or seeing the dread in his eyes after he'd said it. Shepley felt like a doormat to everyone he loved, including me.

  Shepley

  I pulled into the covered parking spot next to America's Honda and sighed. The steering wheel whined as my white knuckles twisted back and forth. The look on America's face before, when I'd spoken without thinking, wasn't like anything I'd ever seen before. If I said something stupid, anger would be evident in her eyes. But I hadn't made her angry. This was worse. Without meaning to, I'd hurt her, cutting her deep.

  We lived three buildings over from Travis and Abby. Our building was less college students and more young couples and small families. The parking lot was full, the other tenants already home and in bed.

  America stepped out. The car door creaked as she pushed it closed. She walked to the sidewalk, no emotion on her face. I had learned to stay calm during an argument, but America was emotional, and any effort to mask her feelings was never a good thing.

  Growing up with my cousins had turned out to be a great resource for handling someone as tenacious as America, but falling in love with a woman who was self-confident and strong sometimes required battling my own insecurities and weaknesses.

  She waited for me to climb out of the Charger, and then we walked to our downstairs apartment together. She was quiet, and that only made me more nervous.

  "I didn't have time to do the dishes before I went over to Abby's," she said, walking into the kitchen. She rounded the breakfast bar and then froze.

  "I did them before I went to pick up Travis."

  She didn't turn around. "But I said I would do them."

  Shit. "It's okay, baby. It didn't take long."

  "Then I guess I should have had time to do them before I left."

  Shit! "That's not what I meant. I didn't mind."

  "I didn't either, which is why I said I would do them." She tossed her purse on the bar and disappeared down the hall.

  I could hear her footsteps enter our room, and the bathroom door slammed.

  I sat on the couch, covering my face with my hands. Our relationship hadn't been great for the past few months. I wasn't sure if it was because she wasn't happy with living with me or if she wasn't happy with me. Either way, it didn't bode well for our future. There was nothing that terrified me more.

  "Shep?" a small voice from the hallway called.

  I turned, watching America step out from the darkness into the dim living room.

  "You're right. I'm overbearing, and I expect you to give me my way all the time. If you don't, I throw a tantrum. I can't keep doing this to you."

  My blood ran cold. When she sat beside me, I instinctively leaned away, afraid of the pain she would cause when she said the words I feared most. "Mare, I love you. Whatever you're thinking, stop."

  "I'm sorry," she began.

  "Stop, damn it."

  "I'm going to be better," she said, tears glistening in her eyes. "You don't deserve that."

  "Wait. What?"

  "You heard me," she said, seeming embarrassed.

  She disappeared back into the hall, and I stood, following her. I opened the door to our dark bedroom. Just a sliver of light bled from the bathroom, revealing the made bed and the side tables weighed down by gossip magazines, textbooks, and black-and-white pictures of us. America peeled off her clothes, one piece at a time, leaving each one like a pathway to the shower, before turning it on.

  I imagined her standing outside the curtain, reaching in, the soft curves of her body shifting slowly with each movement. The crotch of my jeans instantly resisted against the bulge behind the denim. I reached down and readjusted, walking toward the door bordered with harsh florescent light.

  The door creaked as I pushed it open. America had already stepped behind the curtain, but I could hear the water sloughing off her with loud slaps on the floor of the tub.

  "Mare?" I said. My dick was begging me to strip down and step into the shower behind her, but I knew she wouldn't be in the mood. "I didn't mean it. What I said earlier just came out. You're not a tyrant. You're stubborn, outspoken, and strong-willed, and I am in love with all those things. They're part of what makes you, you."

  "It's different." Her voice barely carried through the curtain and over the sound of the whine of the water running through the pipes.

  "What's different?" I asked, immediately pondering if it was the sex. Then I cursed the sixteen-year-old voice in my head that had spouted such infantile stupidity.

  "You're different. We're different."

  I sighed, letting my head fall forward. This was getting worse, not better. "Is that a bad thing?"

  "It feels that way."

  "How can I fix it?"

  America peered at me from behind the curtain, only one beautiful emerald eye peeking out at me. Water raced down her forehead and nose, dripping off the end. "We moved in together."

  I swallowed. "You're unhappy?"

  She shook her head, but that only partially alleviated my anxiety. "You are."

  "Mare," I breathed out. "No, I'm not. Nothing about being with you could ever make me unhappy."

  Her eye instantly glossed over, and she closed it, pushing salty tears mixed with the tap water down her face. "I can see it. I can tell. I just don't know why."

  I pulled the curtain to the side, and she stepped back as far as she could, watching me step one foot inside and then the other, even though I was still fully dressed.

  "What are you doing?" she asked.

  I wrapped my arms around her, feeling the water pour over the top of my head, soaking my shirt.

  "Wherever you are, I'm there with you. I don't want to be anywhere you're not."

  I kissed her, and she whimpered in my arms. It wasn't like her to show her softer side. Normally, if she were hurt or sad, she would get angry.

  "I don't know why it's been different, but I love you the same. Actually, more."

  "Then why ..." She trailed off, losing her nerve.

  "Why what?"

  She shook her head. "I'm sorry about the dishes."

  "Baby," I said, putting my finger beneath her chin and lifting gently until she looked up at me. "Fuck the dishes."

  America lifted my shirt, up and over my head, letting it fall to the floor with a slap. Then, she unbuckled my belt while her tongue flicked along my neck. She was already naked, so there was nothing for me to do but let her undress me. That was strangely arousing.

  As soon as my zipper was down, America knelt in front of me, taking my jeans with her. I kicked off my tennis shoes, and she tossed them outside the tub before doing the same with my jeans. She reached up, curving her fingers until they were snuggly between my skin and the waistband of my boxers, and she slid them down, carefully pulling them over my erection. Once they slapped against the tile outside the curtain, America pulled my entire length into her mouth, and I had to steady myself, palms flat against the wall.

  I groaned as the tugging suction and her grip worked together to create quite possibly the best sensation in the world. Her eager mouth was so warm and wet. Hers was the only one that made me wish I could kiss it and fuck it at the same time. For a fleeting moment, the thought that she had gone down on me to change the subject popped into my head, but it was hard to argue with her if that were the case. Sex with her was one of my most favorite subjects.

  Her free hand reached up to cup
my balls, and that nearly threw me over the edge.

  "I need to be inside you," I said.

  She didn't respond, so I lifted her to a standing position and then hitched her knee to my hip.

  She grabbed my ears and pulled me against her mouth, and I positioned myself, deciding in the moment to lower her onto my dick--slowly since she'd already worked me into a frenzy. I lifted her other leg. Just as I moved to position myself, I lost my footing. America squealed as I reached out, scrambling for something to save us, and then I resorted to bracing for the fall. The nylon curtain ripped from the rings, only giving us half a second before my back slammed onto the floor.

  I grunted and then looked up at America, her hair dripping wet, her eyes clenched shut. One jade eye popped open and then the other.

  "Christ, are you okay?" I asked.

  "Are you?"

  I breathed out a laugh. "Yeah, I think so."

  She covered her mouth and then began to giggle, making laughter erupt from my throat and rip through the apartment. Soon, we were wiping our eyes and trying to catch our breaths.

  The giggles faded, and we were left on the floor, water dripping from our skin onto the tile. A droplet formed on America's nose and dripped to my cheek. She wiped it away, her eyes shifting back and forth, waiting, as she wondered what I might say next.

  "We're okay," I said softly. "I promise."

  America sat up, and I did the same.

  "We don't have to do what everyone else is doing to be happy, right?" Her voice was tinged with sadness.

  I swallowed down the lump forming in my throat. It wasn't that I wanted to do what everyone else was doing. For a long time, I'd wanted what they already had.

  "No," I said. For the first time since we'd met, I lied to America.

  I was too ashamed to admit to her that I wanted those things--the rings, the vows, the mortgage, and the kids. I wanted it all. But it was too hard to tell an unconventional girl that I wanted a conventional life with her. The thought that we didn't want the same things and what that meant terrified me, so I pushed it to the back of my mind, to the same place where I kept my memories of Mom crying over Aunt Diane, far enough down so that my heart wouldn't feel it.

  America

  My toes sparkled in the sun, freshly painted with Pretty in Pink. They wiggled as I relished the thin sheen of sweat on my skin and the heat dancing off the pavement surrounding the turquoise water. I was surely burning under the bright rays, but I remained on the white plastic slats of my lounge chair, happy to soak in the vitamin D, even with the little shits in 404B splashing like heathens.

  My sunglasses fell down for the tenth time, the salty beads on the bridge of my nose making them slide around like a stick of melting butter.

  Abby held up her water bottle. "Here's to having the same day off."

  I held up mine and touched it to hers. "I'll drink to that."

  We both tipped up our beverages, and I felt the cool liquid glide down my throat. I set the bottle down next to me, but it slipped from my hand and rolled under my chair.

  "Damn it," I said, protesting but not moving. It was too hot to move. It was too hot to do anything but stay in the air-conditioning or lie by the pool, intermittently slithering in the water before we spontaneously combusted.

  "What time does Travis get off work?" I asked.

  "Five," she breathed.

  "When does he go out of town again?"

  "Not for two weeks, unless something comes up."

  "You're awfully patient about this."

  "About what? Him making a living? It is what it is," she said.

  I turned onto my stomach and faced her, my cheek flat against the slats. "You're not worried?"

  Abby lowered her glasses and peered over them at me. "Should I be?"

  "Nothing. I'm stupid. Ignore me."

  "I think the sun is frying your brain," Abby said, pushing up her glasses. She settled back against her lounger, her body relaxed.

  "I told him."

  I didn't look at her, but I could feel Abby staring at the side of my face.

  "Told who what?" she asked.

  "Shep. I told him--sort of, in a way--that I was ready."

  "Why don't you tell him for sure, directly, that you're ready?"

  I sighed. "I might as well ask him myself."

  "You two are exhausting."

  "Has he said anything to Travis?"

  "No. And you know anything Trav tells me in confidence is off-limits."

  "That's not fair. I would tell you, if I knew it was important. You're a shit friend."

  "But I'm a great wife," she said, not an ounce of apology in her voice.

  "I told him we should visit my parents before classes start. A road trip."

  "Fun."

  "I'm hoping he gets the hint to pop the question."

  "Shall I plant a seed?"

  "It's already been planted, Abby. If he doesn't ask me, it's because he doesn't want to ... anymore."

  "Of course he does. You've been together three years in August. That's not quite three months away, and it's definitely not the longest a girl has waited for a ring. I think it just feels like it because Trav and I eloped so fast."

  "Maybe."

  "Be patient. Rejection is hard for their egos to take."

  "Travis didn't seem to mind."

  She ignored my jab. "Twice takes twice as long."

  "Rub it in, bitch," I snapped.

  "I didn't mean--" Abby squealed as she was lifted off the lounger and into Travis's arms.

  He took two long strides and leaped into the pool. She was still screaming when they rose to the surface.

  I stood and walked to the edge, crossing my arms. "You're off early."

  "Had a cancellation at the gym."

  "Hi, baby," Shepley said, wrapping his arms around me.

  Unlike Travis, he was fully dressed, so I was safe.

  "Hi," I began.

  But Shepley leaned, and soon, we were falling into the pool like a toppling pillar.

  "Shepley!" I shrieked as we hit the surface of the water before going under.

  He popped up and pulled me with him, cradling me in his arms. He shook his head and smiled.

  "You're nuts!" I said.

  "It wasn't planned, but it's over a hundred fucking degrees outside. I'm baking," Shepley said.

  The little shits from the next building over splashed us once, but after just one frown from Travis, they were scrambling to get out of the pool.

  I planted a kiss on Shepley's lips, tasting the chlorine on his mouth. "Have you thought about the road trip?" I asked.

  He shook his head. "I checked the weather. They're supposed to have some gnarly stuff coming in."

  I frowned. "Really? I grew up in Tornado Alley. You think I give two shits about the weather?"

  "What if it hails? The Charger ..."

  "Okay, we'll take the Honda."

  "To Wichita?" His nose wrinkled.

  "She can make it! She's made it before!" I said, defensive.

  Shepley dragged his legs through the water to the side, and then he lifted me to the concrete. He wiped water from his face and squinted up at me. "You want to drive the Honda to your parents', this weekend, with storms coming. What's so urgent?"

  "Nothing. I just thought it would be nice to get away."

  "Just the two of you. A special road trip," Abby said.

  When Shepley turned to look at her, I shot my best friend a warning glare. Her stoic expression didn't give anything away, but I still wanted to dunk her.

  He traded glances with Travis and then turned back to face me, confusion scrolling across his face. "It'll give us time to talk, I guess. We've been busy. That'll be nice."

  "Exactly," I said.

  Once I spoke those words, something lit in Shepley's eyes, and a million thoughts seemed to flip behind his eyes.

  Whatever was bothering him, he shook it off and pushed himself up, pecking my lips. "If that's what you want, I'll as
k off."

  "It's what I want."

  He climbed out of the pool, his white T-shirt translucent, his jeans sopping wet, his sneakers squishing with each step. "I'll go in and make the call. But we'll take the Charger. It might be twenty-five years older, but it's more dependable."

  "Thanks, baby," I said, smiling, as he walked away. Once he was out of earshot, I turned to Abby, all emotion gone from my face. "You're an asshole."

  Abby cackled.

  Travis looked from Abby to me and back again. "What? What's so funny?"

  Abby shook her head. "I'll tell you later."

  "No, you won't!" I said, kicking water at her.

  With his hand, Travis squeegeed droplets of water off his face, and then he kissed Abby's temple. She left him, swimming to the side of the pool and climbing up the ladder. She took her towel off the lounger and dried off. Travis watched her like it was the first time he'd ever set eyes on her.

  "I'm surprised you're not pregnant yet," I said.

  Abby froze.

  Travis frowned. "C'mon, Mare! Don't say the P word. You'll freak her out!"

  "Why? Has it been on the table?" I asked my friend.

  "A few times," Abby said, looking pointedly at Travis. "He thinks I'm going to stop my birth control the moment we graduate."

  My eyebrows pushed up. "Are you?"

  "No," she said quickly. "Not until we buy a house."

  Travis's expression intensified. "We have an extra bedroom."

  "Thanks, Mare," Abby grumbled, bending over to rub the towel over her legs.

  "Sorry," I said. "I'm going in. We have a road trip to plan."

  "Hey. If you go, be careful. Shep's right. The weather is supposed to be bad. Maybe you should wait until the storm season is over."

  "If we don't go now, we'll get busy. Once classes start, it will be too late. We'll have to wait until a break." I looked to the ground. "The way he's been acting, I don't know if he'll be patient much longer."

  "He'll wait forever, Mare," Abby said.

  "Too late for what?" Travis asked, climbing out of the pool. "What's he waiting on?"

  "Nothing." I shot Abby a warning glare before gathering my things and pushing out of the gate. I closed it behind me, keeping my hand on the hot metal. "Keep your mouth shut. You might be his wife, but you were my friend first."

  "Okay, okay," Abby said, cowering under my stare.

  Shepley

  "Thanks, Janice. I appreciate it." I tapped the red button and set the phone on the bed.

  Janice had loved me since the moment I stepped into her office for the interview. What had started out as a gopher job had turned into administrative work, and then I'd somehow ended up in the wealth management department. Janice was hoping I'd stay on after I graduated college, promising me promotions and opportunities galore, but my heart wasn't in it.