11We sat together on the bank of the small lake, our shoulders, hips, and thighs nearly, but not quite touching, to the point that you could almost feel the small electrical current passing between us. The tension. The silence itself was comfortable and familiar, but the tension? Well…let's just say I've gotten used to ignoring it.
I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. Lean, yet muscular. Well kept hair, stubbly beard. In short, he had all the aloof mannerisms of wolf, and his blue eyes often sparkled with a mischievousness that matched. As I watched him, he pulled his arm back and rocked it forward, releasing a pebble to skip across the water's surface. He looked over at me. His lips—those tempting motherfuckers—tugged up at the edge. My thumb twitched with the desire to touch his smile just there, in that corner.
"What're you thinking about?"
I shrugged, well trained by this point in how not to blush. "Nothing."
He quirked an eyebrow as if he didn't believe me. "Alright." He tipped his head back, gazing at the sky. He hummed for a moment in thought. Then he smirked, and brought his head back to my level. I could see the familiar mischievousness dancing in his eyes. "If you could have anything right now, what would it be?"
I snorted. "Honestly?"
"Of course."
I took a deep breath, and as I released it, the word "You," followed.
Glancing over at him, I saw that his shock mirrored my own—I had barely registered I had said the thought out loud. His eyes were wide, and his mouth slightly parted, but I couldn't read the expression to save my life. I kept going. "For, oh, I don't know," I glanced down at my phone, checking the time. "The next five minutes or so." I shrugged, and looked back to the lake, waiting for him to unfreeze.
He blinked, and his eyebrows knotted together. He drew his bottom lip between his teeth for a second as he chewed on his response. Then, "Why five minutes?"
I threw a wolfish grin at him. That was easy. "Enough time to keep you interested," I said. "To pretend it's real before you think about it too hard?" I waggled my fingers in the general direction of his brain. "To have fun?" I stretched, reaching my arms back behind me. Because it's been forever?
I didn't see the look on his face, but I could hear the humor when he asked, "And what, exactly, would you do with me for those five minutes?"
I tipped my head back to him, giving him my best innocent face. "Why, kiss you senseless of course."
Something flickered in his eyes, but I didn't have a chance to catch it before he shuttered it and it was gone. "You know, girls have often complained about losing track of time with me," he said with an over-exaggerated, lewd wink, and I rolled my eyes. "How would you know your five minutes was up, set a timer?"
"Precisely."
I was looking at him when I said it, and I watched the smile slip from his face slowly, the sparkle in his eyes dissolve into an intensity I could almost mistake for lust.
"Set the timer." His voice was hoarse, serious. My heart skipped a beat.
"I…what?"
He reached across me and picked up my phone, not breaking eye contact as he held it towards me so I could access the screen. "Set. Your damned. Timer."
I held his gaze for a few rapid heartbeats before I reached out and took my phone from him. My hands were shaking slightly as I unlocked the screen, accessed the timer, and set it for five minutes. The zing of tension was palpable now, and I was keenly aware of how little distance there was between us, his breath warm on my face as my thumb hovered over the start button.
"Do it, Kennedy," he growled.
Taking a breath, I set the phone next to me, where we both could see it, and tapped the button.
The countdown started.
I looked up at him, then. His hands came up to my face, his right hand cradling my cheek, thumb brushing across my bottom lip as his other hand brushed the hair back from my forehead, delving the fingers into the loose, long strands. "Fuck," he exhaled, and then his fingers curled against my head and tugged, so our lips crashed together.
I gasped at the contact, and was finally driven to action. My hands came up to clutch at his shirt, pulling him close to me as his mouth worked against mine. I threaded my fingers through his hair as his mouth moved, trailing openmouthed kisses along my jawline, stopping to suckle and nibble at the spot just behind my ear. My eyes fluttered. His hands slipped down my side, slow and seductive, to stop at my hips. His fingers dug into my waist as his tongue flicked my earlobe, and there was a cheerleading section in the back of my head that was doing a fucking conga routine at what a good idea it was for me to speak my mind, for once.
"C'mere," he whispered, and he pulled, shifting his weight so that I went with him easily, swinging my leg to the other side of him so I was now straddling him. We both exhaled in something that might have been a groan of satisfaction as I settled my weight against him, hips rocking against his. He pulled me down to him, hands redirecting my hair so it curtained around us, out of the way, his lips back on my mouth, my neck (he paused and nipped and sucked a moment there that I knew would leave a mark later), my collarbone, my ear—oh for the love of God, who knew that could feel so good! I made an impatient noise, and his mouth came back to mine, warm and soft, and his tongue met mine and we battled for control as his hands wandered, one tracing patterns against the bare skin that had been exposed by my hip as the other slid up my side to cup my breast, which he squeezed, his thumb working a particularly delightful circle, and I gasped again, my hands tightening in his shirt for just a second before I fumbled with a button that I got to pop open and-
RWEHNH RWEHNH RWHENHN-
The blaring klaxons of my timer snapped me back to reality, and I cursed, rolling off him to slap my hand across the phone, turning the alarm off with a swipe. I sat up, breathing heavily. "Well," I started, not able to bring myself to look up at him. I could feel the flush in my cheeks. I straightened my shirt, brushing out wrinkles that weren't really there. "That was…"
"Don't tell me you're actually leaving," he interrupted, actually sounding appalled as he propped himself up on his elbows to look at me, shock radiating from his face. His cheeks were flushed like mine, and I wondered if his lips were tingling like mine too. I could see his chest rising and falling rapidly. I nearly reached out to touch him.
I smiled wryly, but it didn't meet my eyes. "But of course," I said, picking up my phone and standing up before I lost my resolve. I dusted sand off my pants, trying not to think about how his hands had been there just seconds before. My heart constricted in my chest, but I ignored it. After all, I got what I wanted, didn't I?
He sat up and grabbed at my wrist. "Why?"
His eyes were wide, more open and expressive than I'd seen on his best of days. I couldn't quite tell which of the two questions he was asking me. Why start or why stop? But they both had the same answer.
"Because," I said, looking down at him sadly, "I would rather be the one to make the decision to walk away from you, rather than the other way around." I slipped my wrist out of his grasp, and he let me. I knew I had hurt him with that one. Maybe. Maybe he recognized the truth in it and didn't care. I forced myself to smile. "Thanks for this."
"Kennedy…" he growled, but I backed up a step.
"See you tomorrow? Brett's soccer game?"
"Of course." I could hear the confusion in his voice. He never missed my little brother's games.
I turned my back and walked away, heading for my car. As I walked I closed my eyes and breathed in deep, flashes of the last five minutes racing through my brain. My chest ached, my heart was still racing, my stomach was unsettled, and all-over felt warm. I refused to look back over my shoulder, even though it took every ounce of will-power I had not to do it. Whatever I saw could have the power to break me. Safer to take the moments and etch them into my memory. At least then, I could still hang on to some semblance of fantastical hope.
XxX
I am leaving this one here. The way I see it there are four possible endings, and I loved each for different reasons, and thought that no one was any better or worse than the other, so I wanted to leave it to the reader to choose whatever they wanted to happen most.
In the first ending, Kennedy gets a text message as she reaches the car. She's shocked when she sees his name on her lock screen, and when she opens the text it just reads, "turn around, idiot." She whirls around and he's there, says something corny about, "You're not getting off that easily," and strides over, pinning her against the car and kissing her furiously. Several passers-by eventually make enough throat-clearing noises that they realize they have to get the show on the road, and so she gives him a lift back to her place, and they sit on the swing on the front porch and have a serious discussion about what just happened and what they want to happen. They're still together to this day.
In the second ending, he shows up to her brother's soccer game, as per normal. They carry on as always, pretending nothing happened, but there's a little bit of extra space than there was before. He finds a girl, and she's hurt, but understands his retaliation. They drift apart for a little, but eventually come back to each-other, but only ever as friends. They're still friends to this day, and both are married, and they love and are best friends with each-others spouses. Their kids have playdates, and sometimes they watch them together and exchange a knowing smirk, wondering if they'll be hanging out at the lakeside in years to come….
In the third ending, he can't handle it. Feelings have never been his bag of tricks, and he's got a case of them—badly. So he deals with it the only way he's ever known how to in his life—he runs. He shows up to Brett's game, but doesn't sit with her family like normal. He tousles Brett's hair, and then he bails. He ignores her texts, and she's seen him around town with another girl, but only in snatches. When the summer ends, she doesn't see him again. To this day, they don't talk, but both will randomly think of each other at the oddest of times—usually right before falling asleep.
In the final ending, he shows up to her brother's game. They're both weird and awkward and trying to get past it, sitting on the bleachers and trying their damndest to concentrate on the game. At some point he finally asks her, "Why did you do it?" and she stutters and stalls and tries to find her way around it, and he says, "Damn it, Kennedy, you know I'm not good at this," and she says, "I know, which is why I…" and he cuts her off by kissing her, and she's speechless and he says, "Do we try anyway?" And she thinks of all the reasons why it could ruin them and he shrugs and says, "We won't know unless we try. I'm game if you are." She stares at him for a moment and then says, "Oh, hell, why not," and then she kisses him and nearly knocks him off the bleachers. Today, he's telling that story at their wedding, and she's hiding her face in pure embarrassment after having given up trying to get him to shut up.
So that's my little experiment. I'll admit this one is very personal, because like I said, I rediscovered the bones of it and just fleshed it out. The timing on it really matches with something similar in my life right now. I'm about to do something similar to Kennedy, and to be honest, I am using her as my inspiration. I know my ending will be the third one. I have zero hopes for the other three. But.
I hope you liked this and the fact that it's different. If you feel like it, let me know which ending you preferred! Or, what ending you would make. They are my characters, but the whole point is it's your ending. I'm curious to see what you'd have them do.
Until next time.
~Aria