Page 52 of Here You Are

“Yes, I actually really, really do.” He is still standing by the bed, taking in the view, so I scooch farther back on the bed to make room for him between my legs. He climbs over top of me and continues to explore my body with his hands and his mouth. It’s been a while, and I’m feeling a little overzealous, so I pulled his hips to mine and reached my hand between his legs, guiding him to me.

He moans loudly as we connect and starts a gentle rocking motion. We continue kissing, and he speeds up his pace. Then I feel his body tighten, and he comes in forty-five seconds.

He groans, “Oh, shit.”

And I think that was…fast.

And then we hear crying from upstairs. Again.

He buries his head in my neck and mutters, “I’m so sorry. I haven’t had sex in…well, you’ve met Taylen, and she’s four, so…” He groans, rolling off of me to his back, right next to me on the bed. “This is a disaster. I'm mortified. Crying, fake vomiting children, and premature ejaculation. Save yourself and go,” he sighs, with his arm lying over his eyes, trying to block out the embarrassment. “I get a chance with my hot neighbor, and this is how I show up. Just put me out of my misery. I can’t even try to make this right with you because I have to deal with whichever monster is upstairs crying.”

I sit up and start putting on my clothes. I’m not going to lie; I’m disappointed. It’s looking like my night is going to end in self-pleasure since he got me pretty worked up and there is no salvaging this moment. Ben is also up, throwing on his clothes so he can hop back into dad mode. I see him reach an arm to his brow, wiping the sweat off with his sleeve. I’m not sure if the sweat is from the brief physical exertion or embarrassment.

He moves to open the door, seemingly avoiding looking at me. I grab his upper arm and say, “Ben, wait.” He turns around, and his face is beet red. “I know you have to go take care of your kids, but please don’t worry about this. I was rushing things in the heat of the moment, so it’s my fault. Do not worry about it. Promise?”

He lets out a big sigh and pulls me toward him in one of his famous Ben hugs. He really likes to hug, and I really like how they make me feel.

“You’re very kind. Thank you. I'm so embarrassed. When I'm willing to show my face in the neighborhood in seven to ten days, I'll appreciate you being so kind about this.”

“Seriously, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“I absolutely hate that I left you hanging like this. Everyone should get an orgasm.”

I shrug, “You’ve given me a lot to think about, so I’ll probably still get an orgasm; you just won’t be there.”

“Oh, fuck. That is so hot. Please don’t give up on me. I can do better.”

I stand up on my toes to kiss his cheek. “Let me know when, and I’ll be there.”

Chapter 22

July 6th, 2021

I am rudely awakened at 7:30 a.m. by someone pounding on my front door. I already know what is happening. I should have worn a disguise last night. I flop around in my bed like a fish out of water, protesting this early wake-up call. What happened to neighbors being aloof and minding their own business? I need to move back into the city.

After throwing on a robe, peeing, and checking my face in the mirror, I slowly make my way toward the front door, where the incessant knocking continues. If I don’t go, she will never stop, and unfortunately, I once trusted her enough to give her my spare key. When I open the door, I am not surprised to see Widow Jenkins standing there. I am surprised to see the Ericksons, the Thompsons, and Ben with his three kids. I’m glad I have spent some time hanging with the Ericksons recently, so I have knowledge about them to focus on besides their lifestyle activities. Ben is staring at his shoes. I slowly start to shut the front door in their faces when WJ hip checks it and slides inside.

“Good God, Cassie. You know we come over for coffee and rolls every Saturday morning. You should be up and ready to entertain.”

This is a bald-faced lie. I have never in my life invited anyone in this neighborhood into my house. They just show up, and this is early and insane even for them.

Holly chimes in, “Yeah, Cassie! What happened? Did you forget? Oversleep?”

“I must have forgotten to set my alarm,” I grumble, stepping aside to let the whole herd into my house. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.”

One speed walk to my bathroom, and ten minutes later, my teeth are brushed, my hair is pulled up in a messy bun, and I’m wearing actual clothes. Nothing magical, but at least I don’t smell. I can’t believe I have to face Ben less than twelve hours after sleeping with him, and the experience not going particularly well.

In my kitchen, the busy bodies are making coffee and setting out the breakfast they brought over. Someone turned on my television to a children’s show, and the girls are lying on the living room floor watching it. The husbands are sitting on the couch, gossiping. Ben is sitting at my kitchen counter, staring at his hands. He hasn’t said a word and seems to be trying to disappear.

As I pass behind him, I squeeze his shoulder and keep moving toward Sheila, Holly, and WJ. They don’t look like they need or want my help; nevertheless, I feel obligated to offer since we are in my home.

“You ladies need help with anything?” I ask, simply to be a good host for this impromptu attack, er, gathering. I have no interest in helping or creating any kind of precedent that could cause this event to continue.

WJ responds immediately, shooing me out of the way. “The only thing you could do to help is have your ass up in the morning and ready to go next time.” I roll my eyes violently. “Go sit down at the counter and take a load off. We, old ladies, can handle this.”

Pulling out a chair, I plop down next to Ben, who seems to be intently studying the pattern of my granite countertops.

I nudge him with my shoulder and whisper a soft, “Hey.”