Page 39 of Something like Desire

“I asked around at work and got the contact info for the guy who took the shot and he gave me the directions,” Zach says, his voice bright with excitement.

We step through the underbrush into a quiet clearing, where the same winding trail curls past a sunlit creek, its surface sparkling beneath the canopy of evergreens overhead. It’s the place that always pulled me away from my office when I needed a quick escape, and somehow, with Zach beside me, it feels even more peaceful than I remember. I didn’t think that was possible.

I do what I always imagined when I was stuck in the office. I lay back on the grass, and it’s soft, despite the occasional pine needle here and there. Zach chuckles and lies down beside me and it’s just as beautiful here as I thought it would be.

As I lay there, staring up at the bits of sky peeking through the branches, I think about how meaningful it is that Zach found this place for us. That’s when an idea comes to me. A story.

It’s about a woman who can only remember being truly happy a handful of times in her life. One day, as she’s flipping through old photos, she notices something strange: in every picture where she’s smiling—really smiling—the same man appears in the background. Always there, just out of focus. So she decides to find him. Maybe he’s the key. Maybe he’s the reason for all her happiest moments.

“I just thought of a story idea,” I say, sitting up.

“Oh yeah? Does that happen often?”

“It hasn’t happened in years.” I honestly mean it. Ideas used to come to me all the time, but over the last few years, if I ever want to write something, I need to Google prompts online and everything I end up writing comes out sounding unnatural and forced.

But now... first the poem and then the story, it’s like my mind’s opening up and my writer’s block is finally over.

I tell Zach my story idea.

“How did you come up with something like that so fast? We were lying here for what, five minutes?”

“I knew that there was something about this place,” I say. “It’s so peaceful here without the traffic and crowds, it just kind of came to me. That hasn’t happened forsolong.”

“I guess we need to come here more often then,” Zach says. “Maybe I should bring my guitar next time. See if any song ideas come to me.”

“I wouldn’t mind coming back,” I say and pick a few dandelions, attempting to knot them into a crown to wear. “Who knows what I could come up with if I were here all of the time.”

“The day the photographer took the photos was the Fourth of July last year,” Zach says. “I love that. He said the best part of it was that he felt independent on Independence Day. He said he was celebrating our country in his own way and it felt good. I kind of feel like skipping the parties and coming somewhere like this for the Fourth of July.”

“I spent that day at a parade with Maren,” I say. I remember that we drank vodka cranberry out of thermoses and danced as we watched the floats go by and it was fun, but maybe a bit too wild. “I would have preferred to be somewhere peaceful like this too.”

We’re quiet for a while, and as we sit there, not speaking, I notice the buzz of insects, the creaking of trees, the rush of breeze through the branches, the chirps of different birds. And Zach’s breath, slow and steady.

I turn on my side and press my face lightly into his cheek and then an urge comes over me. I want more. I trace my finger along his chest and stomach, then his thigh, just a cautious, tentative touch. I need to make sure I’m not misreading the situation.

That’s all the invitation Zach needs. In one smooth motion, he rolls me on top of him. I press my palms to his chest, feeling his heartbeat hammer against my skin. Our lips are so close, I can taste his breath. The tension thrums between us, electric, unbearable. I lean in, and our mouths meet, hungry and urgent.

Clothes go flying, and I’m straddling him, breathless, still in my bra and panties. He makes a low noise that sounds like a growl, then flips me onto my back. He kisses along my neck and abdomen, then takes my panties in his mouth, sliding them over my thighs and ankles. He nuzzles his face between my legs, and I let out a loud moan, which energizes him. His tongue explores me, taking his time.

I squeal in pleasure, wanting him. I guide his face up and kiss him, tasting the sweat on his skin, a flicker of anticipation running through me as he fumbles in his discarded pants pocket for a condom. When he’s back, his breath brushes my cheek, and a shiver courses through me.

When he pushes into me, I exhale hard. For a few seconds, I just hold on to his back, feeling him linger for a moment, like he’s letting the tension that’s built up between us ease before moving again. Then he finds a rhythm, and I move with him, matching it, immersed in sensation. The air is cool against my skin, his warmth pressed into every part of me.

The sounds we make seem louder out here between the rustle of the grass, and I hear a low moan that I barely recognize as my own. My body responds without thought, tightening, pressing, shivering with each pull and push. I let my hands explore him, feeling the tension in his muscles and the rapid rise and fall of his chest. Every nerve is alive, every movement intense, and I can’t help wishing it would last a little longer.

The pleasure builds until it’s too much to hold in, and I let go, my body tightening around him as I come. A few seconds later, he follows, his breath shuddering against my neck. We stay that way for a long moment, still tangled together in the open air.

SEVENTEEN

I feel like the experience of being one with nature, and of course the mind-blowing sex, made me feel more alive than I’ve felt in years. His hands on me, exploring every inch of me. The way my body felt so satisfied, so gloriously spent, that I felt like my legs were going to give out on me. I want to go back to that moment, again and again, and not just in my daydreams.

But at the same time, I wrote Lexi’s Nonnegotiable Checklist at a time when I felt the most clarity I’ve had in years. That list came straight from my heart and every item written there is something that I deeply want for myself.

Number two, not jumping into another relationship until I’m sure it’s what I really want. Sleeping with Zach really blurred the lines on that one. I wanted to do it. Oh god, I wanted to, but what’s going to happen next? Will he ever truly be less resentful toward my mother? Or will his feelings change once he gets to know her so a relationship between us could be possible? Will we be joined at the hip like Jayden and I were, right from the get-go, or will we rewind and slow things down, or even put this on pause?

Or was what happened between us a one-time thing that just kind of happened because of the growing lust between us? Or because of the exhilaration of being in such a tucked-away, remote spot? There’s something so thrilling about sex somewhere where there’s a small chance of being discovered. Who knew?

Maybe I need to avoid thinking about item number two on my list for a little while and focus on another goal instead. I’m too in my head right now but my resolve’s still strong.