I’m watching him sleep. His chest rising and falling. Looking so handsome, his bare, muscular arms laying on top of the blanket. I love him so much. I know I made the right decision.
I’ve been up all night. Things went too well with Blake. It felt like old times. Like we were still best friends. And we always would be. He’s handsome, comfortable, charming, hilarious. And he wants me.
He sent me a Facebook message as soon as he left the party. It said simply:
I loved seeing you tonight. We should see each other again.
There were no grand overtures of love. I don’t know if I was expecting one. But the casual way he phrased the message bothered me. It was the type of message a man would send after a first date. It wasn’t the type of message a man would send to a long-lost love. And he didn’t acknowledge Marcus or the risk I’d be taking by seeing him.
Maybe he was intentionally trying to sound casual. But more likely, he just wanted sex. It was a likelihood I was unwilling or not mature enough to consider every time he wanted me back in college. But it was obvious when I read my diaries from that era that he used me every time we got back together. His personality hadn’t change, our relationship hadn’t changed, and what he wanted hadn’t changed.
Marcus, on the other hand, dated me exclusively from the beginning and has never cheated on me or broke up with me in the three years we’ve been together. Breaking up and getting back together is exciting in college but not as an adult. As an adult, I need a true best friend. And a true best fried doesn’t break your heart at his whim.
And Marcus is as handsome as Blake if not more so. That’s something I’ve forgotten after three years. I forgot how he gave me butterflies the first time I saw him, took my breath away the first time we kissed, and amazed me the first time we had sex.
He can fuck like no one I’ve ever been with. He’s the only one who’s ever been able to handle my freakiness. I’ve been fantasizing about all the love-making Blake and I did, but if all Marcus and I did was make love, I’d be bored.
I know I can’t leave him for Blake.
I heard Marcus get out of bed. My pulse raced. I knew he’d assume I was up thinking about Blake or trying to talk to him. I began washing dishes so my back would be to him when he entered the kitchen.
He came into the kitchen rubbing his eyes. “Why are you still awake?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
His tone was heavy with suspicion. “Why not?”
“This happens every time I drink. I wake up after the alcohol wears off.”
“Are you sure that’s all it is?”
I sighed, “Yes.” I turned to look at him, “I should apologize to you. I acted like an asshole.”
“Yeah you did. You didn’t care that you embarrassed me. The dude picked you up and spun you around in front of everyone. Then you talked to him for almost thirty minutes. If I’d done something like that to you, you would’ve come home and started packing up my stuff.”
I felt an immediate rush of jealousy at the thought of him flirting with another woman. Then I felt shame.
I walked up to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. I rested my cheek on his chest. He didn’t return my hug.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have acted like that.”
“You know I should leave right? I’m sure as hell not going to stick around and watch you flirt with other guys.”
“I thought we were okay. Why would you have sex with me if you were still mad at me?”
“Because I can do that.”
I took a step back and looked at him with pleading eyes. “I don’t know what to do to make this better. I’m sorry.”
“Sometimes sorry isn’t good enough.”
I began to get frustrated. Tears formed in my eyes. “How long are you going to punish me? I said I was sorry. What else do you want me to say?”
His tone softened, “Come here.” He hugged me. “It’s over now. Done.”
He lifted my chin, forcing me to look him in the eyes. “It’s done now right?” he asked.
“It’s done,” I said, hoping the honesty I felt showed in my eyes.
“Okay,” he replied, hugging me again.
I rested my head against his chest. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
I smiled into his chest. “Show me then.”
He placed his hands under my knees, swooped me up, and carried me to the bed.
He laid me gently onto my back and took off his shirt. He sat on his knees next to me and kissed me softly. I touched his cheek lightly and thought about how much I love him. Thought about how sweet, how pure, how honest our love is. And realized the full extent of what I had almost thrown away.
He reached his hand under my shirt and rested it on my stomach, but he didn’t turn away from my face. He stared at my expression as I massaged his shoulders. He kissed my wrist. I gave him the slightest smile.
He stood and took off his pants. My heart pounded with longing.
I laid back, resting my head on the pillow. I wanted him to take control, undress me, touch me gingerly. Treat me as if he couldn’t believe he was with me.
He scooted me over slightly and knelt on the bed alongside me. He slowly pulled my shirt up to my chest. He lightly touched the top of my breasts with his fingertips. He looked into my eyes. “I love you.”
I responded by giving him a slow, relaxed kiss. I stopped, letting my lips rest against his for a moment, before I laid down and pulled my pants down.
He stood and finished pulling my pants off. He kissed the center of my stomach, right above my panties. I inhaled sharply and clenched the sheet in my hands. He moved down further, pulled my panties down ever so slightly and kissed the top edge of my mound.
He slowly worked his way down to my clit. I held the back of his head and applied the slightest pressure.
“Oh god Marcus. Fuck me now.”
He lifted his head and smiled. “I thought you wanted to make love,” he teased.
I didn’t answer him. Instead I pulled him on top of me. I spread my legs and wrapped them around his back.
He paused before slipping his dick in.
“Marcus please,” I begged, finding his dick and trying to guide him in.
“Just think, you were about to give this up.”
“I’d never give this up.”
He plunged into me, making me gasp. I ran my fingers over his back as he made love to me. He laced his fingers through mine and held my hands over my head. I listened as his breathing became more labored. Moaned as his pace quickened.
We came together. He collapsed on top of me. Laid his forehead against my arm and panted.
I smiled broadly. Laughed softly. “Oh my god Marcus. I love you so much.”
“I love you too.”
Gradually, his breathing slowed. He rolled off me, laid on his back and stared at the ceiling. He found my hand under the blanket and held it.
He fell asleep quickly. And now as I sit here watching him, I wonder how I could’ve considered leaving him for the fucking prom king.